Napping had never been high on Owen’s list of requirements; hadn’t, really, been something he’d choose to do even on a day when he had the opportunity to do so. Of course, heat, boredom, and an extraordinary amount of spare time changed things, so it took him several minutes before he realised that the tapping on his apartment door was not just a new spin on the dream he’d been having. An annoyance, most certainly, because the dream had just slipped him onto the positive side of working himself between the willing legs of a very pretty, very interested, purple-haired friend. Mumbling, scratching his head and squeezing the awakening bulge in the front of his shorts to dissuade it, Owen lifted himself off the couch and squinted out the window. Afternoon was fading to evening, exterior sounds
