Grabby Grabby

Avril looked at Owen. Owen looked at Avril.

“So?” Avril asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“So what?” Owen said.

“Are you going to break this, or will we just sit here all day?”

“Break what?” Owen asked, folding his arms.

“The awkwardness. The silence. The problems you created by grabbing my ass?”

“I didn’t grab anything. I told you, it was some stranger. I saw him do it. I tried to point it out to you as we walked here, but you didn’t want to listen.”

“Right, some random guy on the street would just grab my ass, then run away? Or some guy I’ve known for two years – let me correct. Some guy who’s lusted after me for two years, who happens to be walking behind me on a busy street, takes advantage of the situation. Which would you believe?”

“Obviously, I’d figure it was the latter, but I promise you it wasn’t.”

“Mmhm.” Avril stared across the table, lifted her coffee and sipped. She pursed her lips, said nothing more.

“Okay, sure. I’m sorry. Happy?”

“No, not at all.” Avril stood. “Tell you what. You think on it, figure out if you actually want to apologize or not. If you do, call me. If you don’t, well, you won’t get another opportunity to grab.”

As she walked away, Owen stared after her, enjoying the sight, lusting for another feel.


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