“Then make some.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll get right on it now.”
“Define monogamy for me, Amelia. I’m beginning to think our understanding might not be the same.”
She swallows, her eyes filling with tears. Is this some trick of hers I don’t know about? Tears on command must be useful. “I just want to live and breathe London, Whit. I don’t want to do it alone and I don’t have any friends here.” That might be true, but it’s not the whole truth because she can barely look at me.
“What if I make time for you. To take you out.” Fuck, what am I saying? This could get messy.
She gives her head another shake. “No, I won’t ask you to.”
“And if I offered?”
“If you want to take me out, then sure.” Her shoulder flicks in a way that’s meant to convey inconsequence. But she still hasn’t raised her eyes.
“You mean I can take you out if you’re not already otherwise engaged. With a date.” The hardtseems to echo between us.
“Don’t make a hole in your life for me. I’m not going to be here long enough to fill it.”
“Do you intend fucking these dates?” I verbally hold the word up by the scruff of its distasteful neck. That’s not happening. If I have to tie her to her desk. If I have to cuff her to my bed.
“Will you be sleeping with other women?” she demands just as sharply.
“I think that depends on how you answer.” I didn’t think it was a good idea to fuck her and now it’s all I can think about.
“I’ve never slept around.” Her hair swishes as she shakes her head. “If you want the truth, I’ve never had another man make me feel the way you do.” She inhales deeply, as though fortifying herself, her gaze lifting to mine. “I’ve never had another man make me come.”
The lizard part of my brain gobbles up that insight up like an ouroboros eating its own tail. But I can’t ignore the rest of what she means, or even fathom it. I try not to feel pacified, but it’s hard when she’s looking at me with those big gray eyes.
“And if you change your mind?”
She’s already shaking her head. “I won’t. Not when I have the best. If you still want me on these terms…”
I hook my finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to mine. “What is this about, Amelia? Tell me where this has come from.”
“I have to keep things casual, Whit. Can’t you see that?”
“You’re frightened.” Beneath my fingers and my gaze, she freezes. “But frightened of what?” Last night was a lot, especially for the inexperienced. It was more than the collision of flesh, but I feel like there’s something she’s not saying. “Did I frighten you?” Did the strength of her own reactions catch her off guard?
“No, of course not. Please don’t try to complicate this.” Her breath hitches as her eyes take on the appearance of smoked glass. No, not tears summoned at will. This is genuine regret. I won’t get to the bottom of those fears right now, so what can I do but play along?
“I don’t like it,” I growl, taking her face in my hands.
“I don’t think you have to.” And I don’t think you’ll be going on any dates, I fail to add. Mainly because I’m not an idiot. “Please let’s not make things complicated.”
“Do I have to remind you that you pursued me? Doggedly.” At least she has the decency to lower her eyes at this. “I don’t like playing games, Amelia.”
“I’m not playing.” Her eyes are wet when they rise once again. “I’m just trying not to get hurt.”
If not you, someone else. The memory of her words are brought to life like the strike of a match, Connor’s voice echoing them.She’s too innocent for her own good. Make sure she doesn’t end up with some dick.
Innocent? Try a contradiction.
“Only I get to touch you,” I add with meaning, pushing the recollections away because it’s not about what her brother wanted. Not anymore. It’s about her. It’s about how much I want her. “Only I get to fuck you.”
I expect her to recoil or make some protest. Instead, she answers, “If you still want me.”
Another dark chuckle escapes my chest as a quote I’d read drifts through my head.Women are fickle. And men are idiots. I’m missing something. I just don’t know what.
