You lay awake in bed, unable to sleep because your mind won't let you. You sigh as you roll over to see the clock on your nightstand read two in the morning. You lay there frustrated with yourself. You have always been the type of person who overanalyzes everything and you really wish you wouldn't. As you stare up at the ceiling, you can't help but to think about Owen. Owen Grady is not only the raptor trainer, but also your boss, and that makes him off-limits. You're mad at yourself for liking him so much; you wish that you didn't, it would make things so much easier for you.
You huff out a small laugh as you wonder how you got so caught up in this guy. How did this happen? How, out of all the guys you could have fallen for, did you fall for the one you couldn't have? Maybe that's just it, though. They say that people want what they can't have. Maybe that's all your crush is, maybe you want him because you know you can't have him. You quickly brush off that ridiculous notion. You like Owen for Owen and nothing else.
You don't talk to Owen much, but when you do he's always so nice to you. Of course, he's super nice to everyone. He always seems to understand your references and jokes when no one else does. Then again, you work with a bunch of dumbasses. He's always very attentive when you talk, but then again you are very quiet and most people are astonished when you talk. For every possible sign you can think of that might indicate that Owen likes you, you find a more logical explanation to rationalize it away. After all, how could he like you? You're both so different that you might as well be from different planets. And then, of course, he is always surrounded by women and he can have anyone of them he wants. Heck, you can think of at least three women who have crushes on him that he'd be more likely to choose than you.
You aren't the prettiest or the smartest, or funniest or most talented, in fact, you're nothing special. How on earth could you possibly think for one second that he would like you? Still, you can't help but wonder if he wonders about you, too. What if right this second he's laying in his bed thinking the same exact things about you that you're thinking about him? You chuckle at the thought. Yeah right.
"You're staring again. " A familiar voice says as they come up behind you.
"Huh? Oh right. Hey, Cindy." You say as your eyes shift from Owen up on the catwalk over to your best friend.
"You know you can't keep tormenting yourself like this. You should just go talk to him." She gives you a sympathetic smile.
"He's busy. I wouldn't want to interfere."
"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Go on! Go talk to him!"
"What's the point? I'm weird and I'm awkward and there's no way he'll ever like me." You sigh.
"You don't know that! And some of the best people are weirdos. Being normal is so boring!"
"I don't know, I mean we're so different. He's strong and confident and fearless. He's the center of attention and he controls the atmosphere of whatever room he's in. I, on the other hand, am silly and shy and a coward. And you know what else I am? Invisible."
"Hey Y/N, can you grab the treat buckets for me?" Owen calls down to you.
"Sure thing!"
"Thanks."
"Yeppers!" You cringe immediately after saying that. Why would you say that? That's stupid!
"Invisible, huh?" Cindy raises an eyebrow as you head towards the buckets.
"That's different, it's a work thing."
"Is it really all that different? At least he knows you exist."
"Yes, it is different. He's aware of my existence, but he doesn't know I'm here. When he does acknowledge me, it's like he looks right through me. It's like, unless he needs me for something, I'm out-of-sight, out-of-mind." You say filling the buckets with dead, frozen rats.
"Well then, maybe you should get in his line of sight and just go for it and ask him out! Don't be afraid to put yourself out there!" She says as she pushes you up the stairs.
"No! I couldn't possib-"
"Hey Owen, Y/N has something to ask you!" She shouts from the bottom of the stairs with a devilish grin. You shoot her a death glare before slowly turning your attention back to Owen, whose eyes are now fixed on you as you reach the top step. You can feel your palms get sweaty and a lump starting to form in your throat.
"Yeah?" He gives a small questioning smile.
"Oh, uh... I was, um... I was wondering," You stammer, "I was just wondering if you wanted to... give the girls rats or raw meat today?" He looks down at the buckets in your hands.
"Oh, uh, the rats are fine. I mean, it's kinda hot today, so I'm sure the girls wouldn't mind a cold treat."
"Okay, yeah! Good. Good idea, because the rats are frozen, so they're cold and it's a hot out. So it's like having a popsicle on a hot day, except it's a rat. So it's like a rat popsicle. A ratsicle! Okay, yeah. So I'm just gonna, I'm just gonna go and get back to work. Yeah." You mutter at an incredible speed before shooting back down the stairs.
"I hate you." You mutter to Cindy as you pass her.
"No, you don't." She smirks.
"I made a complete fool of myself! I started talking about ratsicles!" You rub your temples.
"Oh, so that's what he was smirking at." She wiggles her eyebrows.
"He was probably just trying not to laugh at what an idiot I am."
"Hey! You are not an idiot! You are funny and downright adorkable!" She reassures you.
"Thanks." You give a slight smile as you playfully bump into her.
"Hey, you want to go get drinks later? Maybe we can figure out some kind of a strategy to get the guy."
"Yeah, sounds good." You laugh.
You arrive at the bar in some nice jeans and a flowy top, a nice change from your work clothes. You scan the room looking for Cindy, but seeing as it's so crowded, you end up shooting her a text and taking a seat at the bar. You order your drink and take a sip, then you hear a familiar voice. You look down the bar and notice Owen a few stools over. He is being chatted up by a couple of drunk, and somewhat handsy, middle-aged women. You notice how uncomfortable he looks. Obviously, the polite approach is not getting him anywhere. He'll have to start getting stern if he wants them to leave him alone. But before he can get to that point, you decide you're going to help him out.
"Hey there, stranger!" You say in a cheery voice with the biggest smile you can muster plastered on your face. "Who are new friends, Dear?" You place your hand on his shoulder and smile at the women.
"Hey...Baby. This is Sheryl and Joan. They are visiting from Atlanta."
"Georgia! Oh, how wonderful! I hear it's lovely there. The Peach State. You know, I had an auntie who had a whole slew of peach trees. Some of the finest peaches I've ever tasted! Of course, how good can a California peach be when compared to an authentic Georgia peach?" You chuckle in a sickeningly sweet voice. "So how long are y'all staying at the park for?"
The women sneer at you before stumbling away in their drunken stupor.
"Alrighty then. It was nice meeting you!" You call after them.
You and Owen turn to each other, busting into laughter.
"Thank you! That was brilliant."
"All in a days work." You give him a two-finger salute and then mentally facepalm. He pulls up a stool next to him, which you can only assume is an open invitation to join him. You sit down and he asks you what you're drinking.
"Uh, Fireball. You?"
"Tequila." He nods. "So, do you really have a peach farming aunt?"
"Totally made that up!" You say with a flick of your wrist. You both start to laugh a little. "That 'y'all' did slip out, though. That was not mockery. I, uh, lived in the south for a few years there. So that 'y'all' was one hundred percent authentic." You laugh.
"Hmm, good to know." He grins slightly.
You can't think of what to say next. The only sound around you is the chatter of the other patrons bellowing through the room. You stare at your glass before taking a swig. The warmth of the whiskey mixes with the knots in the pit of your stomach. God this is awkward! Why is it so quiet? Actually, it's really loud in here. Why isn't he saying anything? Please say something! Why'd he stop talking? Oh, I don't know what to do! Ok Y/N, just say something, anything. Say the first thing that comes to mind.
"So... tequila, huh? Do you like the tequila song, too?"
"What?" He chuckles with a raise of an eyebrow.
"The, uh, the tequila song?"
"How does that one go again?"
You kick yourself for asking such a dumb question and now, on top of that, you have to sing. You start to sing it, quietly at first, but the further along you go, the louder and more enthusiastic you get. Owen starts to laugh and you can feel the blood rush to your cheeks.
"Alright, calm down there, Pee-wee!" He jokes.
"Pee-" You scoff, "You knew how it went? You just wanted to hear me sing it!"
He nods with a ferocious giggle. You try to act mad, but can't help but laugh yourself.
The next thing you know, you and Owen are sitting on a curb outside of the bar. You are both properly drunk and have found yourselves having been thrown out of the bar for causing a disturbance. If you both loudly and obnoxiously singing the tequila song while you do the Pee-wee dance on a table counts as causing a disturbance, then yes, you were causing a disturbance.
"You know O, -ha! That rhymed! I normally wouldn't tell you this, but I've got some help from my friend Jack here-" You pat your belly.
"Dude! You didn't even have Jack Daniels!"
"Shh! He'll hear you!" You tap your index finger to your lips a couple of times before placing it on Owen's lips. You both suffer from a fit of giggles.
"Ok, ok, ok! But like, I got this friend, Laura. Laura not Cindy! You're allowed to have more than one friend you know and -Oh yeah! I forgot about Cindy!"
You pull out your phone and begin to drunk-text her. Owen tries to look over your shoulder, but you scold him saying it's private. He asks if he can have a turn and you happily let him drunk-text her too.
"Anywhozzles! Cindy- no, not Cindy, Laura. Laura tells every person she likes that she likes them. And I'm like 'Guuuuurl, you-you can't tell them that you like them, 'cause you'll scare him off! You have to see if he ex-expresses an interest in you first. But nobody ever listens to me-"
"I listen to you." He says overlapping you.
"So she'll just scare them off and then she'll wonder why she's single. It's because you have no chill, Laura!"
"No chill!" Owen agrees.
"And yet, here I am about to pull a Laura! Because I think you, you Owen Grady!" You boop his nose. "You are sick A. F. and I think you are totally dope!" You cross your arms in a "gangster" pose.
"No way! I think you're the one who's sick! You're like.. the bird flu you're so sick!" He says excitedly.
"You're just saying that because you're hammered!" You say with a head roll and then pretend to tap him with an invisible hammer.
"No, no I mean it! You're so cool and funny and stuff!"
"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me!" You start to cry. Owen panics and pulls your head to his chest. He begins to gently shush you as he pets your hair.
"It's okay, Pee-wee. I've got you." He continues to calm you until the crying subsides. You sigh as you rest your head in his lap.
"I really like Owen. I just wish he'd like me back or notice me or something ." You momentarily forget who you're talking to.
"Hey, hey! Owen does like you. He just avoids you 'cause he's your boss and it would be inapprop-prop - unprofessional." You quickly sit up and stare into his dilated green eyes. You don't know if it's the liquid courage or a new found confidence, but you decide that you're tired of sitting on the sidelines and doing nothing. You throw your arms around him and plant a kiss on his lips. You feel him kiss you back and you can taste the alcohol on his breath. It was a pleasant kiss or at least as pleasant as a kiss can be between a couple of plastered folks.
"We're not gonna remember any of this tomorrow are we?" You sigh.
"Probably not." Owen puts his hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a deeper kiss.
The next morning you arrive at work with your biggest pair of sunglasses on and aspirin pumping through your veins.
"Y/N!" Cindy calls to you and you cover your ears.
"Not so loud!"
"Y/N, what happened last night!? I saw you at the bar with Owen when I arrived. Tell me everything!"
"I honestly don't remember most of it. Maybe you can fill in a few blanks?"
"Well, I saw you talking and laughing, and then there was singing and dancing. Then you got kicked out of the bar! Oh, and then you sent me twelve texts saying 'nah nah nah nah nah' a bunch of times followed by 'tequila' a bunch more times."
"Right. Then after that, Owen and I-" You scanned your surrounding, looking for the aforementioned man. "I need to talk to Owen. Do you know where he is?"
"You and Owen what!?"
"Cindy, focus!"
"Fine. He's in his office and he may be even more hungover than you." She laughs. You thank her and promise to tell her any details you remember later. You knock on the door and enter Owen's office. He stands up to greet you with a nervous smile.
"Hey Owen, can I speak to you for a moment?" You ask sheepishly.
"Yeah, yeah of course." He folds his arms anxiously.
"So, um, w-what do you remember from last night?" You're not sure you want to know the answer.
"Uh, tequila mostly. In both musical and liquid form." He gives a small laugh.
"Nothing...else?" You grit your teeth.
"Oh, you mean the part where you kissed me?" He smirks with a raise of his eyebrow.
"Y-yeah..."
"Or were you referring to the part where we admitted our feelings for one another?"
"Ah, you remember that too." You laugh anxiously.
"Look Y/N, I'm your boss. That means that us dating would be totally unprofessional."
"I understand." You nod.
"But you know, technically, there's no rule preventing us from dating; it's just frowned upon." He closes the distance between you and you feel your heart beat out of your chest.
"So, are you saying what I think you're saying?" You hold your breath.
"I am saying," he takes your hands in his, "that we should try that kiss again while sober. What do you say Pee-wee?"
You smile widely at each other.
"Sounds like a plan, Alpha."