The Slut's Guide to Romance(ONC 2024)

2

I can still see him in his crisp ensemble, likely put together by his husband Adrian.

Those rounded black-framed glasses perched atop Owen's nose, adding an intellectual flair to his classic charm. His bronzed skin that complements his almond brown eyes, framed by thick dark lashes and well-kept curly hair tapered at the sides.

He had a hint of stubble on his sharp, angular jaw. I'm unsure if he was trying something new or forgotten to shave, but it gave him an almost villainous look to him as Owen sat in his favorite armchair by the crackling white fireplace. An amused curve on his pink lips that felt like a slap to the face as he casually propped one ankle on his lap. With a steaming cup of tea cradled in one hand, the saucer in the other.

"Honor is your sister," I said in an accusatory tone.

"You are a few weeks late," Owen replied, his English accent punctuating his sarcastic remark. I recall how badly I wanted to scream as he raised the cup to his mouth while he muttered, "Years, but, tomato, tomato."

I paused the recording. It was so seamless no one would notice, but I needed to call him out and it didn't need to be on the record.

Over the years, I've grown closer to Lucca over the others, but regardless, I looked at Owen like a friend. I thought his hands were tied. For legal reasons he didn't want to name the true Honor, who in the books was his character inserts best friend who fell in love with his older brother.

I didn't know how to put into words what it felt like to have the answers I sought sitting right there on the fireplace mantel. Or that I was scooped by some stans trying to defend their idols honor and prove whoever Honor was, she was no comparison to Simone.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I yelped. "Why the wild goose chase? Why all the secrecy? She's your sister. How hard is that to say?"

"Well that's a little dramatic love," Owen shot back casually sipping his tea.

"And that's not?" I waved my hand in his direction. "You look like a twink bond villain."

"I resent that," Owen shot back his smirk painted on his pink lips as he placed down his fine china. "I'm a top and lift far too often to be called a twink."

"Owen!"

"Lilah..." He drolled. "Admittedly, it burns me too. I had always thought it would be one of my readers to figure it out. I mean at the very least you all read. But hell hath no fury like a stand who makes their bias their entire personality. I honestly thought it would have been you."

I didn't know how to respond to that. I wanted to say his books weren't my entire personality, that he was full of himself, but we both knew that would be a lie. If it wasn't for the SG series I wouldn't have a career, friends. I think part of me was angry the mystery was over because I didn't know what came next.

It just hurt that my favorite author would speak to me that way.

"Is this how you speak to your friends?" I glared at him.

"No," Owen replied. "But we're not friends."

That one caught me off guard. We had spent the holidays together. I was at his wedding, but as Owen explained it, it was only because I reminded Lucca of his lost sisters.

"I can see Catalina," Owen granted. "But you are nothing like my nugget. Unless discussing how painfully optimistic Inez could be but for you... it feels naivety. Or a parasocial bond..." he said as though he weren't sure.

"For me, you were a means to an end. I may have written them but these books are the only children Inez and I will ever have. She wanted to see them come to life," He told me, smiling as he recalled the determined look on Inez's face as she would tug his ear and remind him the actresses that played both herself and his mother had to be deaf. "You can press record now."