Author's Note: Wow, I'm blown away by the amazing response to this story! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the first chapter so much. I hope you enjoy the second one just as much! Also, I can't remember for the life of me if we ever saw Owen flying during the movie, so if we did, let's pretend that didn't happen. Enjoy!
"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."
― Sarah Dessen
Much to her surprise, it turns out that Owen Grady is terrified of flying.
She notices it right as they step on the plane. His confident demeanor shifts into something more unsettled as his eyes dart to the floor and he moves closer to her, almost instinctively. Once they're in their seats, he clutches the armrest with such ferocity that his knuckles turn white. He keeps his gaze locked straight ahead; eyes wide open and colored with the telltale marks of fear.
"Hey," Claire lowers her voice, trying to summon that soothing tone that her sister is famous for. "Are you afraid to fly?"
"No." He manages to bark out, but his grip on the armrest doesn't lessen.
"Really?" She presses with a small smirk pulling up her lips. Really, she shouldn't tease him like this, but she can't help it. Owen has such a devil-may-care attitude. He's faced down tons of hungry dinosaurs and lived to tell the tale and yet this tiny, perfectly safe airplane is what freaks him out.
Now, that's priceless.
"I can tell you're enjoying this." He murmurs, narrowing his gaze and she chuckles softly.
"Just a little bit." She admits softly.
"Yeah, yeah, ha ha." He mutters darkly, rolling his eyes. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he faces her, "Look, I'm not afraid. I'm just . . ." He struggles to come up with a suitable substitute. Then, snapping his fingers, he turns to her, "I'm just concerned."
"Concerned, right." She echoes, the smirk growing wider by the second.
"Airplanes are dangerous!" He snaps, voice rising and this time, she can't hold back the laughter. "Hey! I mean it, Claire! Airplanes can break down at any moment—"
"Says the man who used to be the Alpha of velociraptor pack!" She retorts in between her bouts of laughter.
"Yeah, well," He whispers softly. "That was different."
The laughter leaves her immediately as she sees his ducked head and folded arms. She grimaces, chiding herself. Of course he would miss his pack! Owen had spent how many years with them? Two, at least and here she was, making fun of him.
"Owen, I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly, hesitating before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't—"
"It's fine," He dismisses her concern with nonchalance. "Don't worry about it."
She wants to say something more but before she knows it, the plane is taking off and Owen is back to white knuckling the armrest.
Owen is a California boy.
They land at LAX close to four in the afternoon and as she waits for their baggage, he is having a currently impassioned debate with someone on the other end of his cellphone. She's trying not to eavesdrop—really, what he is "discussing" is none of her business—but it's hard when Owen is frowning and pleading in a soft voice just a few feet away from her.
"Listen, I can't." He tells the person—ex-girlfriend maybe? No, he wouldn't have kissed her then, right?—and run his hand through his hair yet again, frazzled.
"Owen?" She calls as she reaches for their bags, easily pulling theirs off the spinning carousel.
"Look, I have Claire with me—" He sighs raggedly. "Yes, that Claire!" He glances at her and then turns away, quickly saying, "Fine. But just tonight, okay?" He sighs once more, drained. "I love you too, Mom."
Claire's eyes widen ever so slightly.
"Bye." He places the phone back in his pocket and reaches for their bags.
"Your mother was on the phone?" She questions quietly. "She's seems like a persistent women."
Owen chuckles loudly before proudly adding, "Yeah, she's where I get my stubbornness from." Then, biting his lower lip a bit, he leans towards her a bit, close enough that she wonders if he's going to close the small gap and kiss her.
"Owen?" She whispers, unsure if she's ready for this, ready to be with him or if she even wants to be with him.
"My mother has insisted you come to family dinner."
"She . . . has?" Truth be told, that's not what she expected him to tell her, but with the sudden relief—he isn't going to kiss her so she still has time to think things through—comes a new set of fears.
"Claire, you don't have to come." Owen tells her. "I can drop you off at the apartment and I'll be gone for like two hours, tops—"
"No." Claire summons up a smile, trying to think of only pleasant thoughts. She's faced down dinosaurs intent on eating her. She's convinced the toughest investors in the world to give her money to run the park. She can handle one dinner with the mother of her sort-of boyfriend. "I would love to go."
Owen jerks back, as if he's unsure if he's heard her correctly and then asks, "You're sure?"
"Of course." She keeps the smile plastered on her face. "I just need to freshen up."
"My apartment isn't too far." He replies quietly.
"Okay then." Claire grins. "Let's do this then."
She quickly moves for the exit, leaving a dazed Owen to follow her.
Owen's apartment is spacious and barely furnished.
"I got the job at Jurassic World a few weeks before I finished moving in," He explains when he notices her concerned expression at lack of really anything in the apartment aside from a bed in each bedroom and a few kitchen appliances. "And I guess I just never got around to finishing it."
"I see." She replies lightly. Then, grabbing her bag, she moves towards the nearest bedroom. "I'll just be a few minutes."
"Take your time," Owen insists with a lazy grin. "Really, my mom will be willing to wait to meet you."
Against her will, Claire's cheeks flush and ducking her head, she hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She opens her suitcase and grimaces as she takes in the meager amount she was able to bring—one cocktail dress, some jeans and t-shirts, and one of her suits. She couldn't wear the suit—she'd be way too stiff for sure. Wearing the jeans and t-shirt would be way too casual.
"Cocktail dress it is." She whispers, pulling out the silky white dress.
She dresses quickly, putting on the one-strapped white dress. She adjusts the jeweled pendant on her left side where all the material gathers and hopes she looks somewhat pretty. She doesn't have a mirror to check and she might be way overdressed—perhaps jeans and a t-shirt were a better fit?—but she couldn't keep them waiting. Slipping on a pair of high heels, she forces herself to stick to this outfit. Taking a deep breath in, she opens the door.
Owen is lying on the floor, eyes shut, brow furrowed. The flight had been long and arduous for him and she wonders if exhaustion has caught up to him.
"Owen?" She calls softly and he's immediately up. She jumps back, startled and he looks like he's about to say something when he glances at her outfit.
He stands there, speechless for what feels like an eternity.
"It's too much, isn't it?" She asks, worried. "I knew it. I'll go change—" She turns to leave when his warm hand catches her wrist and spins her around and almost into his arms.
"Claire." His voice is so unnaturally soft that it takes her by surprise. It's a tone that she's never expected from someone as boisterous and loud as Owen.
"What?" She breathes.
"You look beautiful."
And that's the moment he kisses her, sweet and slow. She freezes, unsure of what to do, but eventually finds herself responding, until he pulls away.
"Owen?" Her breath is ragged and she can still feel the tingle of his lips on hers.
"We better go."
He doesn't say anything as he moves towards the front door.
Claire, for her part, isn't sure what just happened. Owen kissed her and then broke it off? So, did that meant he liked her or not?
"Why not just pass him a note?" She mutters to herself. "Do you like me? Check yes or no."
But the truth is, she doesn't know if she "likes" Owen either. They barely know each other. The chemistry is there, yes, but she's had a relationship based on chemistry alone before and it backfired on her badly.
"Never again." She vows softly.
There's no point in figuring this all out right now. She has more pressing matters to attend to, mainly meeting Owen's mom.
She can handle this, no sweat.
And with that, she leaves the apartment.
Author's Note: Next chapter, meeting Owen's family. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!