by Nicole Hite
"Yeah," he spun, locking eyes with her.
"Thank you."
"Anytime, Ariel. Don't be a stranger."
Stranger, right. That was the last thing she wanted to be with Owen.
If she had her way, she would be taking him into her bedroom and showing him just how thankful she really was.
5
"What's Wong with this situation?"
Owen closed his apartment door just in time to dodge Sam's arsenal of bullets as she approached.
"Um, was that Owen?" Sam inquired as she pushed open the door that Ariel was trying frantically to shut.
"As a matter of fact, it was," she chortled as she looked at her friend in skepticism herself.
"And why was Owen in our apartment, especially on a day you left early from work? Seems a little fishy to me."
"And by fishy, I hope you mean he was doing me a favor by loaning me a computer."
"What the fuck happened to your laptop?" Sam stopped in her tracks.
"It's gone to a better place, but it wasn't sad how it met its demise," she laughed.
"Elaborate," Sam crossed her arms across her chest, squinting at Ariel in disbelief.
"The details aren't important, but it will not be resurrected anytime soon. Owen works with computers or whatever, and had another to spare. He is lending me one until further notice."
"Why do I feel like there’s a catch? There is always a catch," Sam looked speculatively.
"No catch that I know of, but I really should find a way to say thank you properly."
"I've got a few ideas, highly inappropriate ideas though," Sam chuckled as her demeanor began to relax.
"I was thinking more on the lines of making dinner."
"You? Cooking?" Sam looked at her as if she had three heads.
"Well, ordering dinner, because God knows I'm a horrible cook."
"You don't think he will take that the wrong way, do you?" Sam questioned.
"I hope not, plus I don't have time for that. I received a private message from Dean today. This guy is smooth, probably much too smooth for his own good," Ariel blushed as she purposely turned and walked to set up her new desktop.
"You dirty little hoe! Why would you hold out on me like that?" Sam smacked her on the back as she retreated.
"Hey! What the hell was that for?” Ari twirled around to scowl at her friend.
"Details. Was he sexual? I bet he was sexual. No, I bet he's easing his way into the sexy card. He doesn't want to frighten you."
"He was a gentleman. He simply introduced himself. That's all."
Sam gave her a speculative glare as Ariel turned to make her way to the computer. Before she knew what was happening, Sam seized her phone from her rear pocket, making a mad dash for the bathroom.
"Dammit, Sam! Give me my phone back!" She squawked down the hallway. Sam slammed the door just as Ariel collapsed on the frame, pounding away her frustration.
Hearing the toilet seat bang to make a seat for Sam, "Ari, he is providing you the perfect opportunity to flirt, and you’re pissing it away. Viv wants details, spice, seduction, and a damn saucy story. How are you going to make that happen with this cutesy bullshit?"
"Who says I wanted to flirt? Maybe he's used to it, and that's why he sent me a note? Maybe he wants a change?"
"That, or he's testing the waters to see how dirty you really are. Let's give him a little taste, shall we?"
"Sam! No!" Ariel wailed at the door.
"Sent," Sam cackled from the other side of the door.
Instantaneously there were several pings from behind the door. Ariel was panicked at what Sam was typing. What if she blew her cover, or better yet, gave Dean the wrong impression. What the hell - her whole facade these days was giving him the wrong impression. She supposed that if Dean was going to catfish her, she'd do it right back to him.
"What's going on, Sam? What did you write? You're being too quiet. Quiet is never a good thing with you."
"I simply asked if he enjoyed being worshipped, pleased...even pleasured from time to time."
"For fuck sakes, Sam. He's going to hate me if you keep that up, and then Viv will kill me!"
"Ari, he definitely does not hate you," she giggled from the other side of the door.
"Wha...?"
"He seems intrigued actually," Sam affirmed as she swung the door open. Giving Ariel her phone, "Look for yourself."
Ariel ogled the message in disbelief.
* * *
DEAN: I'm very...attentive toward the women that interest me.
DEAN: And you, interest me.
DEAN: A lot.
* * *
Dumbstruck, Ariel wasn't sure how to react. She had met a few aggressive men in her day, but this was pretty straightforward. She had waited almost twenty minutes to formulate the perfect response, but never could find the courage to hit send. She would type a line, erase, type, erase, and finally gave up, staring at the screen.
* * *
DEAN: Are you still there? I hope I didn't say something wrong.
HEIDI: Never. I wasn't expecting you to be so open and honest with your answer.
* * *
The pause between responses was deafening. It was nearly a half hour before
Dean came back to the conversation. In a bizarre way, Ariel was looking forward to his quick responses. When he lagged, she was the one that felt she had said something wrong. Had she annoyed or embarrassed herself?
* * *
DEAN: Then why did you ask?
* * *
The maddening part about text or messaging, you can never tell if the person on the other end is ticked off, or simply asking a modest question. At this point, Ariel needed to get started on her notes and conversational logs with Dean. Turning down her notifications on her phone, she converted to the computer to reply.
* * *
HEIDI: Honestly..?
DEAN: Of course.
HEIDI: I wanted to see if you were only concerned in being a cyber sexer.
DEAN: Oh.
DEAN: Although your questions interested me, I usually like to get to know a girl before I "cyber sex" her up.
HEIDI: So you do...have adult conversations with women on here?
DEAN: From time to time, but it's completely consensual, and I get to know the girl first. I don't request message sex from just anyone. I travel a lot for work and enjoy the discussion from time to time.
HEIDI: Oh.
DEAN: Does that bother you? If so, I won't trouble you further.
HEIDI: Just as long as you don't have a wife and kids back home. I suppose not.
DEAN: No. No wife, or children for the matter.
HEIDI: Have you met any of these women in real life, off of cyber-land? :)
DEAN: No. Never.
HEIDI: Then what's the point?
DEAN: There doesn't always need to be a point, sweetheart. Can't a man just appreciate the written company of a woman every now and then?
HEIDI: But don't you get lonely or feel...lacking of the real thing?
DEAN: I never said I didn't get laid, sweetheart.
* * *
There was something so attractive with the way a man called women sweetheart. It was pure and appealing. It was sexual without being so.
* * *
HEIDI: Oh, well look at you, Casanova.
DEAN: Casanova, huh?
DEAN: Is my charm getting to you already?
HEIDI: You're pretty self-assured, aren't you?
DEAN: I've never had an objection yet.
* * *
Just as Dean's last response came through, an odd black and green terminal manifested on her screen.
* * *
O: How's the computer working for you?
ARIEL: What the...how the...I should have known better than to accept a CPU from a hacker.
O: Not a hacker...all the time at least.
O: Finding everything you need?
ARIEL: Yes, thank you again. How the hell
are you doing that?
O: Doing what?
ARIEL: Spying on me.
O: I'm not spying. If I wanted to spy, I could, but I respect you enough to stay out of your affairs. Just don't piss me off.
ARIEL: Hilarious. Well, I guess I should thank you appropriately for helping me out in a pinch.
O: Are you propositioning me, Ari?
* * *
Although the thought had made her body tingle, Owen did live down the hallway. She couldn't afford to make things complicated.
* * *
ARIEL: Presumptuous, aren't we? I was thinking more on the lines of ordering dinner at my place. A proper thank you, if you will.
O: Not a cooker?
ARIEL: Hardly. Betty Crocker wouldn’t want me in her kitchen; let's just say that.
O: Ouch.
ARIEL: Exactly.
* * *
DEAN: You still there?
HEIDI: Still here, hang a second.
DEAN: Sometimes I don't comprehend how assertive I can be. Just wanted to make sure.
* * *
If Ariel didn't know better, she'd think Dean may be a little socially paranoid. He seemed to thrive for attention and acceptance. Another fact she would need to look further in to.
* * *
HEIDI: Not at all. I need to go, but I will catch up with you later if that's okay?
DEAN: Sounds great. It was lovely speaking with you, Heidi. Talk soon.
* * *
O: I concede. I will take you up on your take-out offer. When? Tonight?
* * *
Ariel was about to reply to Owen when there was a rap on her door.
Running to the door, Ariel cracked the door to find Owen standing in the hallway. She couldn’t help but think how damn attractive he was.
"I was thinking now would be a good time. I'm hungry," he smiled, as he pushed his way into her apartment.
"Make yourself at home, Owen."
"Thanks. Got any menus here? I don't have shit at my place. Hey, you like Chinese?"
Chinese happened to be Ariel's favorite. Nothing sounded tastier than Mr. Wong's Crystal Chicken right about now. Furthermore, she needed to replenish her empty stomach.
"Check that drawer right there," she pointed to the far end of the counter.
"This one?" he reached.
"No, not that one. That one," she giggled.
"This one?" he laughed.
"Nooo, here, let me show you."
Clutching the draw handle, Ariel gave the drawer a sturdy tug. The draw had always been a little fickle, but it was remarkably tricky tonight of all nights.
"Need help," Owen offered.
"Nope. I got it." Pulling with all her might, she was immediately thrown back into Owen's chest; drawer in hand.
"I can see that. You okay?" he laughed as he looked down into her green eyes.
"Thanks. It's a little tricky sometimes," Ariel stated as she straightened herself, placing the draw on the counter. "Here we go."
"Mr. Wong's, my favorite. Their Crystal Chicken is the shit."
"Do… wha..." she stared at him in utter shock.
"Their Crystal Chicken is fucking amazing, you should really try it."
"It's...it's my favorite as well."
"Damn, that makes ordering so much simpler," he gave her a crocked smile.
"Let me just get my phone so I can order. Be right back."
Ariel reached for her phone only to find that Dean had left her a message not but three minutes ago.
* * *
DEAN: I really enjoyed talking to you, Heidi. I would like to do it again if you are willing.
* * *
With a sheepish grin on her face, Ariel made her way into the kitchen. Before she called Mr. Wong's she typed a quick message to let him know she felt the same. It hadn't been twenty-four hours and already this guy was tugging at her heartstrings. Nothing good could come out of this if she was intentionally out to end him.
* * *
HEIDI: I enjoyed the conversation as well.
HEIDI: We will just have to wait and see.
* * *
She hit send and turned off the messenger service entirely.
She had dinner to order for her and her guest, who was now watching her with the craziest look on his face.
"Research, again?" Owen asked looking aggravated.
"Um, yeah, sorry," she felt ashamed.
"Well, when we are hanging out, there are no phones allowed. Deal?"
"Deal." The thought of the two of them hanging out more often intrigued Ariel. Owen seemed like a pretty decent guy. A good friend even, regardless of how smoking hot he was.
"Here, give me your phone, I'll order," Owen offered.
"Where's your phone?" Ariel questioned. Who in their right mind went anywhere without a phone. No one, that's who.
"Don't need it. I'm here with you. You said food, so I ran over," he gave her a toothy grin.
"Whatever, dude," she glared at him as he dialed the number. Walking toward the couch, she switched on the television for them to watch as they waited for the food to get there.
"Yes, I'd like to order two large orders of Crystal Chicken, two orders of friend rice, and..."
"FRIED WONTONS..." they both said in unison. What just happened here? Did he really just read my mind? Ariel was so screwed.
Locking eyes, they both glared in a rather peculiar stare down as Owen hung up the phone.
"Well, this just got weird," Owen echoed her thoughts precisely.
6
"Baited"
"You want a beer?" Ariel offered as she made her way to the stainless steel fridge.
"Sure, got any IPA's?" he requested.
"Actually yes, I do. Are you fine with Shock Top?"
"Fuck yeah. I didn't peg you for an IPA girl."
"What kind of girl do I look like then?" She probed as she shut the fridge door. Standing on the opposite side of the door was Owen. Nearly scaring her to death, he snatched the long necks before they hit the floor.
"Didn't mean to alarm you."
"You just surprised me," she caught her breath. "So what type of girl do you think I am?"
"I pegged you for a wine girl or even Lime-A- Rita," he chuckled.
"Blah! More like acid in a bottle."
"HA! That's a first."
"Why? Because I'd rather chug a beer than suffer the consequences of lime hiccups all night?"
"Excellent point," Owen affirmed as he leaned back on the countertop. "That shit is like battery acid."
"I can hear my esophagus crying already," Ariel laughed as she reclined on the opposite counter.
"Are you planning to tell me about this research project for work, or is it top secret?”
"Eh, my boss would kill me if I let the cat out of the bag before we went to press."
"Hey, I tried," he huffed as he took a long swig of his beer.
"But I could use a man's perspective though."
"Hit me with it," he looked intrigued. He seemed genuinely flattered to have a woman wanting his opinion. That, or perhaps it was just the feeling of being around other humans and not computers.
"When you get on MyFace, do you...get on to meet...chicks?" As soon as the words come out of her mouth, she felt silly for even saying them out loud.
"Wow. That was not what I thought you were going to ask," he nearly choked on his beer.
"Well?" she pushed, as she looked at him sideways.
"If you must know, no. I meet ‘chicks’ the traditional way...colliding with them in hallways," he smirked at her before taking another swig.
"Ha, ha, you're so funny. So, you don't even...flirt with girls online?" Ariel asked with a hesitant look. Part of her wanted to know the truth, and another was worried to hear him admit her fears.
"Perhaps if I had a MyFace account I would.”
"Whoa, wait. Hold the phones. You don't have a social media account?"
"I used to have one...back in the day," Owe
n stated looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Why did you get rid of it? What am I missing here, killer?" She regarded him speculatively.
"I found that no one was who he or she claimed to be," he gave her a disappointed scowl.
"Who says you have to be online to find deception?" She took a sip of her beer. "Is that why you hide yourself in your apartment? If you don't associate with society, you can't get hurt?"
"Where is that damn Chinese food?" he indicated as he dodged the inquisition.
"Is it?" she asked again.
"I don't seclude myself. I'm here aren't I? I just...like being by myself sometimes. It’s a welcome distraction, that is, until you crashed
into my life...quite literally," he grinned as he took a step closer to her.
His proximity was tempting, while the scent of his aftershave was intoxicating. She had never been the type of girl to make the first move, yet somehow Owen made her want to burst out of her comfort zone. Her body hummed and sizzled the closer he moved into her bubble. His lips were a beacon calling out to her, begging to be taken.
Ariel was about to make her move when the doorbell rang. FUCK. REALLY.
"Looks like dinner's here," she squeaked out a sigh of relief. Saved by the bell, literally.
For the rest of the night, the two ate Chinese food, watched Jackie Chan flicks and chatted about absolutely nothing, and yet, absolutely everything.
"Wait a minute," Owen began. "You've never been to a fair or carnival before? Fried Oreos? Dilapidated carnival rides? Bad games and prizes?"
"Cross my heart," she motioned with her fingers. "Not a once. Besides, you make it sound so appealing," she joked, giving him a playful shove from across the couch.