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Twenty-One

Will

My fingers run through her soft hair as she lays against my chest.

There’s nothing but silence inside the room, the sound of two lovers tangled in this intricate web we have find ourselves in.

Tonight was risky. I know very well that Lex was pissed when I had to leave, especially because I’d been in a mood all night since the phone call inside the limo. On several occasions, he tried to talk professionally, but my head wasn’t in it. Nope, my head had decided to take some fucked-up ride in which every possible scenario taunted me.

Charlie knew something weighed heavily on my mind, quick to pull me aside and ask if everything was okay. She’s always worried about me, just like my mother. What could I possibly say to her? Her daughter is a mindfuck, and there’s no rhyme or reason to why I’m chasing someone so young when surrounding me, I can pretty much have any woman I want.

Nothing makes fucking sense.

When it comes to Lex, though, business always comes first, yet arguably, he’s broken that rule several times.

“I have to go,” I murmur, focusing on her lips.

Dropping her gaze, she breaks eye contact with a heavy sigh. Tilting her chin, I raise her lips to meet mine and place a gentle kiss unlike the frenzied kisses we found ourselves in only moments ago.

“Yeah, of course,” she mumbles, still with a lowered gaze. “You need to sort everything out.”

“I was thinking…” I stand up, buckling my pants and placing my shirt back on. “Next Saturday night. Come to my place. I’ll cook dinner, and we can Netflix and chill.”

She shakes her head, laughter consuming her. If only she understands just how beautiful she is—so raw, so innocent, so fucking perfect. “I didn’t know you can cook dinner, too. All these secret talents of yours.”

“I’m a masterpiece, according to my father.”

“Your father can also burp the alphabet,” she points out in jest.

I chuckle softly. “That he can.”

We both reminisce about the time my dad did this incredibly stupid thing at a birthday party, embarrassing my mom as usual. The more we speak, the more it begins to sink in just how familiar it all is. How easily we just lose ourselves in memories because we have so many together.

“What time are you thinking?’ she asks, toying with the ends of her hair. “I’d have to head back late.”

“I was thinking you could sleep over.” I wait for her reaction, praying that she wants to stay over and can read into what I’m saying without me having to spell it out.

Amelia sits quietly, not showing any emotion unlike any other woman I know. If I counted the last ten women I slept with, the same ones I had to push out the door, they would’ve jumped for joy at the possibility of staying over.

Instead, the reaction is less than enthused, only confusing me even more. Pulling the sheets toward her chest, her long hair falls over her shoulder, a picture-perfect showcase of all her beauty.

“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” she says stubbornly.

“Do what?”

“Invite me to stay over.”

“Well, I want to.” I continue to button my shirt, a smirk playing on my lips. “Besides, you’ve slept in my bed already and from memory, we’ve slept beside each other when we went camping. Granted, you told horror stories which scared everyone in the tent except me.”

Amelia breaks out into laughter again. “Andy couldn’t sleep for weeks. Ava would hide in Mom and Dad’s bed. Their fear of clowns still reigns to this day.”

“You were quite something as a kid.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She throws her pillow, goading a reaction from me. “Fine, I’ll accept your invitation.”

I lean in to kiss her, wishing I didn’t have to leave but know I have no choice. “No need to pack any sleepwear, I expect you naked the entire time.”

With a wide grin across her face, she stands on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I couldn’t think of anything more perfect.”

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