I place my hand in Owen's and follow him into the crowded bar. I am wearing a pair of ripped black jeans and a black shirt that has strips of black transparent material going across it. Owen is wearing a pair of tan shorts and dark blue button up shirt. We stop at the bar where Owen casually leans against the bar, placing his hand on my backside as he orders us our first round of drinks. "The hotel has a spa. I thought maybe you could get your hair and nails done tomorrow morning," hs suggests. "If you want to, of course."
"Why?" I ask, confused.
He shrugs. "I thought that's what girls liked to do."
I roll my eyes but find myself looking down at ny nails. A manicure wouldn't be so bad. "Okay," I nod. "That'd be nice."
He smiles. "You can go down whenever. They'll charge the room."
"Th
