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“Amelia,” I call out.
She stops and turns around, but when she sees me, her smile vanishes. It looks like she's considering ignoring me entirely and walking away, but thankfully, she stays put. She types something into her phone and slips it into her pocket.
“What's up?”
A lump grows in my throat at her frosty tone—a tone that's more than well-deserved, mind you. Fuck, what is wrong with me lately?
“I, uh,” I hesitate. “I brought you your shirt. Even managed to get the stain out.”
Her brows furrow as she takes it from me. “You came all this way to give me back my shirt? You could have just given it to Easton.”
Wow. Way to call me out. “It's no big deal.”
She pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth and nods. “Well, thanks.”
As if she can't stand to be near me, she goes to walk away and I'm clinging to any attention she's willing to give. “You haven't come around lately.”
“Yeah,” she rubs her arm. “I've been busy.”
“Anything good?”
She snorts. “I thought so. Turns out I was wrong.”
I exhale heavily. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Mm-hm.” Glancing back at the door, she pulls out her phone again and sighs. “I should really get going.”
That's probably best. “I could walk with you?”
What the actual fuck? Since when does my mouth not fucking cooperate. What the hell is it about this girl that's making me completely abandon all logic and act like some lovesick little bitch?
“What are you doing?”
Busted. “Trying to be nice?”
She scoffs. “No, you're not. You don't get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“This!” Her tone comes out louder than she intended, and she pauses to take a breath. “You can't make me feel like a one-night stand and then try to spend time with me all in the same week. It's not fair.”
Pain fills my chest at her words. “You weren't a one-night stand.”
“No?” Her brows raise. “Then what would you call it?”
I rack my brain for an answer, but there isn't one that’s going to improve her opinion. “Meelz.”
She rolls her eyes. “It's fine, really. You don't need to come check up on me and keep tabs. I can take care of myself.”
Turning around, she tries once again to leave, but I can't let her. Not like this. Not when she thinks Friday night was just some fun in the sack to me. Hell, I didn't even get off. Not that she knows of, anyway.
“Amelia,” I call out. This time, as she turns around, she's visibly annoyed. “You were not a one night stand.”
She looks down at the ground. “So you've said, but everything else says otherwise.”
I reach out and place my knuckle under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “You weren't, I swear, but Easton would—”
Anger morphs her expression, and she pulls her head away from my touch. “You're afraid of my brother? Wow.”
