Timeline for Part 6:
This one sets around 11x05 and 11x06. Owen and Amelia didn't really have any relevant developments inside the hospital so I took a lot of liberties with this one. This is what I imagined happened between them offscreen!
The Journey – Part Six
Owen had just finished his morning coffee when he heard loud thuds coming from outside. Sneakily moving inside the small trailer, he bent over and gazed outside the window, looking for the source of all that noise. It shouldn't have surprised him that the person who was cussing while repeatedly knocking metal against metal was Amelia Shepherd.
"What are you doing?" He frowned heavily at her, wondering why she was being so loud when it wasn't even seven in the morning on a Monday. "You're going to break the car." He added with incredulity.
The neurosurgeon had the hood of a silver car open, while a nearly transparent smoke came from somewhere inside the engine. It was obvious something was wrong. Owen noticed an object in her hand, much similar to a wrench, and he wondered what she'd been trying to do with it.
"Are you beating up the car?" He tried to hide his amusement. "Trying to see if you hurt it bad enough it will decide to work?" Owen added, openly teasing the logic behind the idea.
Amelia seemed to hesitate for a second and he noticed how she slightly blushed. It wasn't at all common to see her embarrassed so Owen rejoiced in it. It was good to see that sometimes she could get affected by the things he said or did as well.
"Pretty much," Amelia confessed with an apologetic smile.
Owen went around her and pulled the hood of the car up higher, carefully inspecting it. Amelia noticed the way he easily went through some of the devices. It became obvious Owen Hunt was very familiar with mechanics.
Was there anything the man couldn't do?
Amelia sighed in frustration. She always felt like she was a mess and that her feelings often got the best of her. It was annoying how sometimes, her mood could change due to any reason, be it a pathetic one or not. And yet, the tall surgeon standing beside her seemed so calm, controlled and unaffected that often she wondered how could someone be so levelheaded. Even when she'd seen him angry, Owen had been in control of himself. At the same time Amelia was attracted by it, she also felt a childish desire to test him just to see how far his self-control would go. The chief of surgery was very intimidating and instead of being scared, Amelia felt strangely drawn. She had no idea why, but her instincts told her that even when pushed to his limit, the enigma that was Owen Hunt would dissolve a little, but he'd probably still be as fascinating.
"When was the last time you checked the radiator coolant?" Owen asked after a few seconds, noticing the levels inside the storage system seemed extremely low.
Amelia looked at him as if the guy was speaking a foreign language.
"What makes you think I even know what that is?"
Owen processed her reaction and chuckled at the same time he nodded his head in disapproval.
"Look, the level of fluid is extremely low," He carefully opened a round recipient and Amelia saw he now had grease all over his hands. His forearms were amazingly masculine… how come she had never noticed that before? And his hands too… Owen had large, manly hands and Amelia didn't realize the amount of time she spent with her eyes fixated on them. The way his fingers easily moved in between the car pieces, as roughly and skillfully as if he was performing trauma surgery, made Amelia wonder what else that man was capable of performing with his very talented hands. "Look, go over there to my car and get the bottle with green coolant that's in the trunk," He instructed her, pointing towards the blue truck parked a few yards from them.
Amelia quickly did as told, feeling better to have something she could actually do to help instead of distracting herself with amusing ideas. It was very early in the morning and she wanted to be at the hospital in time to do rounds and get plenty of time with two young patients who were scheduled to see her today. The donation money she had received was helping other kids with the same condition as the two year old patient Amelia had performed surgery on, and she was immensely happy to be able to help more children.
The neurosurgeon opened the door to Owen's truck and couldn't help taking a moment longer than necessary to observe everything. Unlike her own car, that had coats, an empty water bottle and an overnight bag for shits scattered on the back seat, the inside of the blue truck was perfectly neat and clean. There were no crumbles or forgotten clothes on the inside and Amelia smiled mischievously, thinking that made justice to the image she had of man who owned it.
She followed his instructions and brought back the liquid he'd asked for. Without saying a word, Owen added it to a recipient and closed it. Afterwards, he bent a little further and scraped something inside the panel.
"You also need to replace the engine filter," Owen informed her.
"Okay, I will," She replied automatically, grateful for his help, but also feeling a little guilty he had literally gotten his hands dirty just to help her while she was still perfectly clean.
"No, you won't," Owen replied matter-of-factly. He didn't know the woman that well or for that long but somehow he was sure of what he was saying.
"Yeah, I probably won't," Amelia confessed with an embarrassed grin. After noticing the way he was judgingly looking at her, obviously condemning her decision, she got defensive. "What? I don't have the first clue on how to…" She rolled her eyes, impatiently giving in. "Alright, fine. I know I have to, otherwise the car will fry." The neurosurgeon admitted, against her will. "Should I just walk into a car shop and order an engine filter? Oh, wait, can I buy it online?"
She noticed the silly smile on the corner of his lips, as if in her complete ignorance about mechanics, Amelia had said something so absurd that he was having fun at her expense. She felt like knocking him down for it.
"Just leave the car here over the weekend and I'll replace it for you."
With a gentle nod he went inside the cabin, turned the key and like magic, the car worked. Without saying another word, Owen gave Amelia the keys and walked back to his trailer, presumably to wash off all the dirt that had stained his arms and clothes.
Amelia wasn't surprised by how bossy and economic with words he was. The man was so frustrating, ordering her around. It was her own car, damn it! But at the same time, she couldn't quite control a warm feeling that slowly started to consume her.
Owen had no obligations with the Shepherds whatsoever but he did things like fix Zola's bike and now, repair her car. She hadn't asked for his help, he hadn't exactly offered it. Instead, he'd simply gone on and fixed what needed to be fixed. His practicality and the way he was always there in a time of need alarmed Amelia at the same time it attracted her. She was afraid it could easily become highly addictive to have him around. Even when Owen was reprimanding her, he was always kind and respectful. Amelia felt strangely looked after. She was used to being on her own and not counting on someone to have her back like that. That made staying mad at him exponentially more difficult.
Trying not to think about those insane notions, she got into the car and drove to work, telling herself it was going to be a great week.
.
At work, Amelia did have one of the finest weeks she ever remembered having. After performing seven surgeries and following up with post ops in the PICU and the ICU, the neurosurgeon took a cab home on Thursday afternoon, after being at the hospital since the previous Tuesday.
All Amelia wanted was to take a hot, relaxing shower and sleep until the following morning. Her brother was responsible for covering the night shift and she was supposed to come home with Meredith, but her sister-in-law had been notified about a donor's liver for her patient and would spend the entire night performing a transplant. In usual conditions, Amelia would pick up her niece and nephew but she was in no shape to even drive home, let alone look after two kids. Settling for a cab, Amelia took pleasure in the idea of having the house to herself.
As she left the hospital to go home, a thin rain started to fall. The neurosurgeon wasn't surprised. After years of living in LA, where it was mostly warm all year long, adapting to Seattle wasn't hard. Amelia had grown up in New York and she actually preferred the colder, rainier days.
Invariably, she had to step on the grass to walk up to the house and much to Amelia's dismay, her brand new boots got covered in mud. She was still sighing at the realization when she went to pick up the mail.
To her delighted surprised, Amelia found a postcard from Sheldon Wallace. It had been dated two weeks before and she smiled widely while reading about her friend's adventures in a paradise landscape in the middle of the Caribbean. Amelia was happy for Sheldon that he had quit his job and was now traveling the world.
She was tired and it demanded so much energy to focus on reading a simple card that Amelia completely forgot to clean her boots before entering the house. As result, she stained the floor with several mud steps. Cursing heavens for the sloppiness of her actions, the neurosurgeon went to the back of the house in search of a clean mop when she inadvertently slipped.
Amelia tried to hold her balance on the kitchen isle but all it did was crash two half filled water glasses on floor, adding to the mess before she ended up landing on her bottom. If the situation weren't so ridiculous, it would be hilarious. Trying her hardest to keep her composure, Amelia promptly cleaned up after her mess, worried about not leaving any tiny glass splinters considering there were two small children living in the house.
One hour later, Amelia had already showered as she looked for something to eat inside the fridge. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the sharp pain that was coming from her bottom. Initially, the surgeon had assumed it'd been from her clumsy landing, but as the minutes progressed, she realized there was probably more to it.
Dropping the waffle mix she was about to prepare on the counter, Amelia went to the bathroom and took off her pants. After minutes of careful inspection and thorough search, she realized there was a tiny piece of glass deeply lodged under her skin. She'd had jeans on when her accident happened but somehow the sharp object had made it through. Amelia had no idea how she was unlucky enough that, of all her body parts, she ended up with a splinter stuck in such a horrible place. Not only it was absolutely painful, it was also very hard to reach.
Amelia knew that for any experienced doctor, getting out that tiny glass piece was probably an easy procedure. She was also aware that if she didn't do anything about it, her body would keep reacting to the foreign object with more inflammation and perhaps even get infected. The skin was already reddish and swollen around the area, probably due to her failed attempts at removing it with a pair of tweezers.
She was still trying to get the glass piece out when the doorbell rang, suddenly startling her. It was a few minutes after 8 and Amelia was alarmed, wondering whom it might be. After pulling her striped pajama pants up, Amelia went to the living room. Feeling stupid for not guessing sooner, she spotted the blonde tall man outside through the peephole and opened the door.
"Hey," She greeted him, seeing the look of surprise on Owen's face when he saw who had opened the door.
"Oh, hi," He replied a bit awkwardly. Owen noticed none of the cars were at home but Derek's, so he simply assumed his friend was home alone. "Is Derek around?"
"Uh, no, he's actually on call tonight," Amelia explained, wondering what Owen could be doing there. He looked very casually dressed with a V-neck green jumper and a pair of dark fleece pants.
"Sorry to bother, I saw his car and thought he was here," The trauma surgeon explained, ready to turn around and go home.
"No, actually he carpooled with Meredith today because he has the night shift," Amelia explained. "She is spending the night there too."
"The liver transplant," Owen shyly smiled. "Do you have the kids?" He asked, worried. Amelia looked tired and it was obvious both Meredith and Derek wouldn't be back anytime soon.
"Uh, no, actually they are at the hospital in overnight care because I pulled a double shift so I am in no condition to babysit," She casually leaned against the door, somehow hoping they could extend that conversation. Just minutes before, she'd been eager to spend some time alone but now that she had company, Amelia really didn't want him to go.
It was rare seeing Owen outside the hospital in that easy, relaxed manner and she grew curious. Her eyes scanned him quickly and not for the first time, Amelia noticed how broad his shoulders were. He looked so solid that sometimes she felt like touching him just to see if his body was as hard and virile as his personality.
"Well, I'll leave you to rest, then," Owen said after a few seconds of silence. He had already broken eye contact with her, ready to turn around and leave when he heard her voice.
"No, wait," Amelia called out and unconsciously bit her bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. "I am not Derek, but maybe I can help too?" She suggested with a contagious smile.
Owen couldn't help loosening up at that very inviting offer and put his hand inside his pockets.
"I was actually going to ask Derek if he's watching the game tonight," Owen explained. "Ever since it started to rain my TV signal has been running low and because I know Derek has cable here, I supposed he might be a little luckier than me."
Amelia had no idea what game it was or even why exactly Owen had been having problems to watch it inside his trailer. But she quickly caught up on the fact that he was obviously spending the night alone, with a TV that didn't work and craving for some company.
"You can watch it here," She hurried to say and realized she had been standing at the door like a fool the entire time. "Sorry, come in," Amelia gracefully invited him, taking a step back so he could enter the house.
Owen hesitated, unsure of what to do next. At the same time he wasn't sure it was a good idea, something inside him made him desperately want to stay. The idea of going back to his trailer and spending the evening alone didn't look appealing. Not nearly as much as staying in the company of a woman who could invoke all different types of feelings in him without even trying.
"Are you sure?" He asked, looking from her eyes to her figure, figuring by her outfit that she was probably dressed for bed.
"Yeah, absolutely," Amelia smiled wider. "I was just going to prepare some waffles. I'd be happy to share them with you."
Owen walked into the house and kept his hands inside his pockets as he slowly followed her to the kitchen.
"How are you not freezing?" Amelia asked, shrugging her shoulders to control a wave of shivering. Just to open the door and stay exposed to the weather outside for a couple of minutes had already taken its toll on her. And yet Owen had walked all the way from his trailer in light clothes, stood outside in the chilly wind for a while and seemed perfectly comfortable.
"It's not that cold," He replied with a shy smile.
Amelia made eye contact with him and grinned widely before returning to the waffles she'd been preparing earlier that evening.
"How can you even say that?" She teased, preparing the mix under his attentive eyes. "It's like, fifty five outside," Amelia argued.
"Well," Owen pointed out, "when you spend months in the hot desert in combat clothes you start to really appreciate lower temperatures."
Amelia stopped what she was doing and processed his words. She'd heard that Owen Hunt had served in the army a couple of times as a surgeon. The military stereotype really did fit him and the thought amused her. With a friendly smile in his direction, she watched as Owen stepped up to help her with the mix.
"So, breakfast food at eight in the evening?" He finally asked, intrigued by it since the moment she'd first mentioned what she was cooking. "Is there a particular reason why you're making waffles?"
"Do you really need one?" Amelia smiled mischievously, licking the mix that had been left on the spoon after she was done sorting out the waffles. "I mean, who decided that waffles could only be eaten for breakfast?" She questioned, intriguing Owen. He had never really thought about it. "I don't see why it's a rule. It's a very stupid one if you ask me."
"I can't say that surprises me," He added, returning her teasing remarks. "You obviously don't care much about rules in general."
The idea that Owen Hunt was actually capable of joking made Amelia laugh. It wasn't the first time she realized how drawn to him she felt. The neurosurgeon had enjoyed his company from the start but she hadn't seen him outside of work that much. Since Owen was her boss and Amelia was nearly always unintentionally causing problems, most of their interactions had been about work related issues but she had to admit she actually enjoyed spending time with him and getting to know more about the very reserved trauma surgeon when they were outside the walls of the hospital.
"So," Amelia tried to engage him in conversation. Even though she wasn't uncomfortable when they were in silence, she knew he wasn't very chatty, meaning it would be mostly up to her to keep any kind of talk going. "What's the game about again?" The neurosurgeon asked while carrying two plates with warm waffles to the living room, closely followed by Owen who brought steamy mugs with hot chocolate.
"Football," He explained, accepting the remote Amelia was offering and setting the TV to the right channel. "Seattle is playing New York."
"Oh, awesome," She got more excited about the prospect of watching a sports game. Amelia had never particularly cared for sports but she had always been highly competitive. "Go, New York!" She cheered, without a clue of whom she was cheering for.
"No, go Seattle," Owen looked at her with a smile and intensified his gaze, as if silently trying to convince her.
"New York all the way," Amelia replied, more interested in pestering him than in the actual game.
"One day, after you've been in the city long enough to realize this is the best place to live in, you'll become a Hawks fan and I will live to see it." Owen predicted.
Amelia laughed in disbelief but little did she know that in a few years, when she and Owen had already started to build their family, she would indeed realize that Seattle was the only place in the world she would ever consider home. And being a Seahawks fan after him would come with the package.
As the game was starting, she took a seat on the couch next to him. Her bottom was still very sore and Amelia was reminded of that in the worst way. As she sat down for the first time, the annoying piece of glass throbbed against her skin, making the neurosurgeon swiftly put one of her legs folded under her body, preventing the sore area from getting any pressure against the couch.
"This tastes really good," Owen complimented her a few minutes into the game, pointing to the waffles.
"Thanks," Amelia replied with gratitude. Being complimented on her cooking skills wasn't something she was used to. The neurosurgeon was well aware that her talents in the kitchen were very limited. "So, I am having a real hard time figuring out what's happening…" She confessed, frowning at the screen. Owen turned his attention from the TV and gazed at her profile, finding the way she was squinting at the TV trying hard to understand adorable. "Isn't the whole point of this game to carry the ball to the other side?"
"Pretty much," Owen replied, curious to see where she was going.
"Well, why doesn't the guy just run with the ball while his friends knock down the other team?" She asked like it was obvious.
Owen chuckled heartily.
"For starters, the other team has eleven guys the size of tree trunks fully trained to knock down anyone who tries to pass by them," He explained. "That's why the team changes players according to ball possession. Some guys specialize in offense while others are the defense line." Owen added. "And the friends of the guy who has the ball," he used her own words on purpose, having fun with her adorable thinking, "are offensive players, their main strength isn't to knock down the other team but rather to try to run through them."
"That doesn't sound very smart", Amelia argued.
"It is actually a very strategic game," Owen explained.
"Someone is definitely getting hurt."
"That's half the fun."
Amelia's eyebrows rose at his comment and when she looked sideways to meet his gaze, she realized he was kidding and they both laughed together.
For the next couple of hours, she kept asking questions as Owen patiently answered them, carefully explaining the common rules of football. Amelia didn't seem that excited about the sport but while it was obvious she didn't share his passion, at least she was rationally trying to understand it.
During each of the four quarters, Owen had noticed how, despite her charismatic smile and adorable serene façade, Amelia seemed somewhat physically uncomfortable. After paying closer attention, he figured something was bothering her because her body went stiff whenever she moved beside him.
"Are you okay?" Owen asked after a few minutes of silence. The question caught Amelia off guard and she studied his expression, trying to figure out why he was asking it at the same time she made an effort to pretend she was fine. "I'm only asking because you grimace every time you move on the couch."
"It's nothing, really," Amelia replied, but it was obvious she was lying.
Owen wasn't going to ask any further questions because he didn't want to sound pushy or make her feel uncomfortable. The trauma surgeon had already diverted his eyes back to the last few minutes of the game when he heard her voice.
"Actually…" She started, feeling embarrassed. "Maybe you could help me out with something."
Amelia was mortified at the idea of sharing what'd happened but at the same time, the neurosurgeon knew she couldn't keep that piece of glass inside her skin much longer. It was starting to hurt for real and since she couldn't get it removed by herself, it was likely she would have to ask for help. Her brother and sister-in-law wouldn't be back until the following day and the idea of going to the hospital sucked all her energy. Not only was Amelia exhausted from the long hours at work, she also didn't want to show up in the ER to have an intern or young resident examining her butt. The idea of how quickly the embarrassing news could spread made her completely drop the idea.
Luckily for her, the best emergency surgeon at the hospital was sitting on the couch of her home and there was no one around to witness Amelia's humiliation. Not to mention she was pretty sure Owen wasn't the kind of guy who would tell others about the embarrassing situation. Having him remove the piece of glass was the wisest idea she could think of, and the quickest way to solve her problem.
As she mentioned maybe he could be of help, Owen simply sustained her look, kindly inviting her to resume her explanation.
"As I got home earlier today I dropped a glass on the floor," She explained. "It was messy and there were small pieces all over the place."
"Did you hurt yourself?" He asked considerately.
"Not really," Amelia bit her bottom lip, hesitant about sharing the embarrassing part. "The thing is, some splinters got scattered around and one of them got wedged in my skin. I tried, but couldn't get it out."
"Oh," Owen quickly realized what the problem was. "It's alright, I can try to get it out for you," He proposed with his usual practicality. "Do you have a needle we can sterilize?"
"Yeah," Amelia had fun with the idea of imagining if he'd still be as willing to help as he seemed to be when she shared more details about the incident. "The thing is, the glass is on my butt."
"What?"
Amelia thought she'd feel embarrassed but after seeing his mortified expression, what she really wanted to do was laugh.
"I forgot to mention that after I broke the glass, I landed on it."
Even though Owen was perplexed, he couldn't help laughing.
"Okay, then," He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering how he'd ended up in that situation in the first place. "Well, let's try to get it out."
After a quick trip to her bathroom, Amelia came back with cotton balls, a small bottle of alcohol and a sterilized needle. It was hard to believe the mess she got herself in sometimes. The neurosurgeon didn't realize she'd taken a deep breath and was holding it until she met Owen's gaze. He'd clearly been staring at her, waiting for her to make the first move.
"Oh, yeah, right," Amelia shook her head trying to focus. "Well, you'll know where it is when you see it." She walked over to where he was sitting on the couch and stood in front of him. Her tone of voice changed from playful to threating when she added. "I swear to God if I ever hear a joke about this I am going to spread a rumor about you."
Owen laughed, amused at her reaction. Amelia was often confident and very sassy. To see her in a situation like that was actually really entertaining.
He was still carefully thinking about that when the neurosurgeon turned around. Owen took a deep breath once he actually realized what was about to unfold and suddenly, the atmosphere around them felt dense.
He couldn't see the look on her face, but Owen imagined she wasn't exactly comfortable. Aside from a quick accidental bump as they passed each other occasionally, he had never really touched her, even though he'd had countless thoughts about it.
Thoughts that were so dirty and downright inappropriate that Owen immediately rejected them.
"You have to show me where it hurts," He broke the silence, noticing Amelia was standing in front of him without doing much.
"Oh, of course," She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, taking her hands to the hem of her pants.
Amelia wasn't embarrassed of her body, she had always been confident about it. But suddenly, the image of Owen's masculine hands assaulted her memory and she felt her face blush. It took a lot of effort to slide down pajama pants and expose the upper part of her butt cheek to him, especially when she had no idea what to expect.
But Amelia quickly found out.
As Owen's hands splayed on the sides of her hips, gently pulling her one step closer to him, she felt an electrical wave assaulting her body with full force. His touch felt warm and powerful as his hands easily grabbed the curves of her body, bringing her to a position where he could actually reach her wound.
"It doesn't look like it's in too deep," Owen swallowed hard. He had imagined many times over what it would be like to touch her, but he hadn't been prepared for the overwhelming reality. "Alright, I'll start. Don't move."
Amelia closed her eyes and tried to focus on the fact that Owen was a doctor. What he was doing was purely professional. Or at least that's what it should feel like.
But instead, Amelia was having a hard time getting over the fact that his hand had a firm grab on her body. She couldn't see him, but it felt like his presence was engulfing her. The neurosurgeon knew she was vulnerable and exposed but instead of feeling uncomfortable, she was completely at ease with being touched by him. In fact, it was nearly impossible to ignore the rush of blood to her lower abdomen that only increased as she became more aware of his presence and his touch.
Owen picked up the cotton ball soaked in alcohol and gently brushed it against her skin a few times. He had done the same with patients many times over in his life but it had never made him as agitated as it did that moment. The trauma surgeon knew his restlessness had nothing to do with the procedure, but rather with the patient. Amelia Shepherd and her delicate, feminine body had a few times before charged him. Until the day Owen had laid eyes on her, he had not been aware of the intense sexual energy that had been hiding somewhere deep inside him. And yet, the sight and touch of her smooth silky skin seemed to bring that to surface with full force.
Very gently, Owen used the needle to get to the splinter of glass. It wasn't a small fragment but it was wedged deep inside her skin. He knew there was the risk the piece would break, causing more damage. Amelia was silent and Owen could feel her entire body stiff, but he supposed she was nervous about the procedure when in fact, Amelia was trying to control the wave of desire that assaulted her every time she felt Owen's experienced movements as he brushed and grabbed her butt cheek with his fingertips.
"You're moving," Owen tightened the grasp of his free hand on the side of her naked hip, trying not to sound too impatient. He was desperate to get that over with and Amelia's jerky movements weren't helping. Truth was, his body wanted to prolong contact for as long as possible but his censoring mind was so alarmed with his own reactions that Owen wanted to be done with the procedure as soon as possible.
"Sorry," She closed her eyes with more force and looked up, trying to focus. But her brain was invaded with images of Owen wearing the green jumper he had on tonight. Was it her imagination or did the clothing piece outline his manly biceps in a scandalous way? Amelia couldn't be sure. He was all strength, possession and control and his intoxicating masculinity was stealing her breath in a very escalating manner.
When had it been exactly that Amelia had started looking at him that way? She wasn't sure. In her mind, Owen had always been an attractive guy but that had never been on focus. He had confused her, irritating the neurosurgeon with his bossy, stubborn manners at the same time he amazed her with his loyalty, impeccable sense of justice and addicting reliability. Up until now, Amelia had been trying to figure out whether she liked him or not and the raw reality alarmed her.
Not only did she figure out that she actually enjoyed his company and admired Owen, apparently her body also liked him very much.
"Jesus, will you just stand still!" Owen grunted, losing his patience. He was not doing very well. At the same time the woman was unknowingly enticing him and seducing him with the amazing smell of her hair and the delicious texture of her skin, she was driving him crazy with her incapability of remaining motionless. Owen really didn't want to hurt her, but she just wouldn't stop moving as he was piercing her body with a needle, driving him crazy with anxiety. But what was really adding to his bad mood was the fact that no matter how much he tried, the trauma surgeon couldn't deny he was insanely attracted to that stubborn, gorgeous woman.
"Well, you're taking too long!" Amelia complained, suffering from the same symptoms as she tried to blame the tension on him.
Owen didn't bother replying. She had the insane ability of making him lose control, in every sense. Without notice, Owen's hand traveled from her hip to her lower stomach, under her shirt. He pulled her towards him with fierce determination. Amelia felt her body shivering when his palm splayed below her bellybutton, keeping her from moving forward like she'd been doing. That man's hand was so large that it nearly covered the entire area of her lower belly. She found that thought and the possessive way he had pulled her nearer extremely sexy.
"I am trying not to hurt you, but you're not making it easy," Owen said between his teeth. Touching her like that was making his body have responses he hadn't originally planned or considered, but the worst part was that he didn't regret it one bit. He'd wanted more than anything to feel her skin under his touch and now that he could attest, it was as deliciously smooth as he'd imagined.
It also didn't help him at all to unwillingly become aware of her gracious figure. Amelia's body was very feminine and it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore her curves. She was so small and yet so adorably shaped. Her round bottom was literally under the touch of his hands and even though Owen was performing a medical procedure, his thoughts were far from professional. What he really wanted to do was too scandalous to be described in their surgery textbooks.
Amelia could swear his voice sound contained. She was just wondering if the brush of his thumb on the hem of her panties had been accidental when Owen suddenly pulled apart.
"There," he said, sounding relieved. "I got it out."
Amelia anxiously turned her neck around at the same time Owen's hand grabbed the waistband of her pajama pants and carefully pulled it up.
It was then that Amelia finally realized it: She wasn't the only one who was painfully aware of the intense sexual tension that had established between them. He felt it too and that made it even very harder to ignore the physical attraction they were sharing.
"Look," Owen noticed her eyes studying him and tried to distract her, flashing the glass splinter on the palm of his hand.
"Wow, it was bigger than I thought," Amelia said with genuine surprise.
The moment Owen noticed he had just imagined her saying the same sentence in a total different context, he realized it was time to go. The game on TV wasn't yet over, but for the first time he didn't care one bit about football.
"It's getting pretty late, I should go," He blurted out, noticing Amelia was standing so close that if he moved two feet forward their bodies would collide.
"Thank you for helping me," The neurosurgeon instantly replied, looking just as affected.
Owen was so distracted examining her features that he forgot to reply or move to finally go home. Amelia noticed the way his eyes were on her face. He was admiring her, she realized with girly silliness, feeling herself embarrassingly blush.
What was wrong with her?! Amelia had always been confident and extremely good at flirting games. Why couldn't she help acting so awkwardly around him?
But then Owen's eyes broke contact with hers and slowly traveled to her lips, making Amelia unconsciously hold her breath. Oh God, was he going to kiss her? Amelia was startled to realize she very much hoped he would. When had that happened? She couldn't remember looking at Owen that way but suddenly, all she could think about was feeling the solidness of his arms around her and finding out if the stern, controlled chief of surgery was as much affected by the magnetic wave of attraction that seemed to connect their bodies as she seemed to be. When Amelia realized he was slowly moving forward, she closed her eyes, ready to embark on the experience of exploring his lips. But then his words assaulted her, like a shower of cold water breaking the magical moment.
"Good night, Shepherd."
When Amelia opened her eyes, she had to blink repeatedly to be brought back to reality. Owen was already a few steps away from her, moving towards the door. Oh God, had he realized she'd expected to be kissed? Amelia felt like a fool. Gathering her strength to be back in control again, she smiled when she remembered the unmistakable spark of desire she'd identified in his eyes just moments before. There was no way Owen Hunt wasn't as affected as she was. And if he had held the urge to kiss her, the least Amelia would do was to torture him in return.
"Amelia," She caught up with him, standing by the door after he'd already crossed it.
Owen turned around in confusion, exactly like she'd anticipated, and the neurosurgeon explained.
"Well, since you've already grabbed my butt and felt me up… You might as well call me by my name." Amelia wickedly added, controlling her smile of satisfaction. Now, every time Owen Hunt had to speak to her, he would undoubtedly be assaulted by memories of what had happened between them that night.
And what could potentially have happened but never did.
The neurosurgeon realized she had reached her goal when his entire face reddened with embarrassment. Without another word, Owen turned around again and went straight to his trailer. Amelia watched him disappear from a distance and smiled with pride, knowing that at least now she wouldn't be the only one lying awake in bed, wondering what the other one was thinking while reminiscing every minute of the explosive physical discoveries they had just made that night.