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“What time is it?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her and pul
led her in deeper.
“After midnight, I believe,” she answered quietly.
“It’s crazy how light it is. How it doesn’t get dark here...”
“Well, not in June, anyway.”
He kissed her bare shoulder and dug his face into her neck. “I’m sorry about earlier. You know, it sounds crazy, but even the worst of times with you somehow still end up being the best times of my life. I really am glad I came.”
“Oh, yeah?” She pulled back a little, smiled, and then playfully splashed water in his face.
“Yeah.” He grabbed her before she could gauge his next move and pretended he was going to dunk her. Instead, he pulled back a little and tucked a piece of hair, which had strayed from her ponytail, behind her ear. “You’re right. I did want to force your hand. But it isn’t just for the reason you think…”
“It doesn’t matter. Asking that of me for any reason is wrong. You have to see that.”
“I do. Now, I do anyway. It’s just that… well, I guess I wanted to know if you love me the way I love you. If you love me enough…”
Amelie let him pull her in closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist and traced her fingers along his back. “You… Jack Harrison… I could never love enough.”
“But what does that even mean? What I’m asking, Amelie… is could you see yourself spending the rest of your life with me?”
She swallowed. “That’s a lot to ask of a girl, you know.”
He pulled away and looked directly at her. “A lot… or too much?”
Amelie bit her lip. “I haven’t quite decided yet.”
They next morning, they ordered breakfast in their room. It would be their final day together, and Amelie had just a few more venues to shoot—another museum and national park were on her agenda, both of which she hoped to get done early in the day.
After spending most of the night entangled in each other, they spent much of the morning in silence—it appeared that neither of them had much to say, but what they lacked in spoken word they made up for with tension. Amelie toyed with her eggs as her mind drifted back over the previous night. She thought about how Jack’s hands felt on her body. The way all the best parts of him had fit so neatly with all the best parts of her. She thought about the way the words lingered on his lips as he whispered her name when he came. She recalled the low, smooth tone in his voice when he told her he’d love her forever as he simultaneously trailed kisses along her spine. She glanced up at him now, noting the way he gulped his coffee, and suddenly, found herself on the verge of exploding. She put her fork down, and swallowed hard, too furious to keep it all in any longer.
She picked up her glass and slammed it back down watching as the table shook and then her words spilled out. “What exactly is it that you want from me, Jack? How about we cut the shit, all right?” She picked up her glass once more and eyed him expectantly. “You’re not one to shy away from saying what needs to be said… so let’s have it.”
Judging from his expression, she’d caught him off guard. “What do I want from you? That’s what you’re asking?”
She flicked the remnants of her toast on the plate. “Watch it, Jack. Repeating the question… hmm. Is this one of your sales tactics… is this your way of buying time?” Amelie felt foolish as soon as the words were out, but she was too angry to worry about making any sense.
He peered at her over his coffee cup. “I see you’re in a pleasant mood this morning.” He took a sip, and then cocked his head and raised one eyebrow. “Guess I didn’t do my job well enough last night, eh?” He mocked, nodding at the bed. “Shall we give it another go?”
She stood up and pushed the chair, letting it tip forward against the table. “Fuck you.”
“Ok… Ok. I’m sorry. Sit back down.” He gazed out the window, his expression contemplative. “What do I want from you? Let’s see…”
She eyed him suspiciously, but she didn’t respond, nor did she sit back down.
Jack lowered his voice. “I… I want some sort of commitment. I don’t know… I guess I just want you to tell me that things will be different. That it’s possible for us to have a real relationship…”
She placed one hand on her hip. “And who decides what a real relationship is?”
“We do.”
“Ok.”
“Ok? Ok… what?” Jack asked, exasperated.
Amelie looked at him as though he had missed everything she’d just said. She sighed. “Ok, then. Let’s decide…”
