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“It’s fine,” Amelia says. “We’re all adults.” As if to prove her point, she grabs her pajamas out of suitcase, turns her back on, and starts changing.
I whip around to face the other direction. This isn’t a big deal. I’ve seen women change before.
Except they weren’t Amelia.
“Some of us are more adult than others,” I say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.
“Were you going to tell me you’re almost ten years younger than me?”
“I’m not ... oh.”
I can almost hear her doing the math in her head.
“Does this mean I get to call you an old man?” she asks gleefully.
“No,” I growl.
She laughs. “You can turn around. I’m done.”
I do. She’s wearing a black camisole and short pink pajama shorts. It leaves a lot of her on display, and I’m torn between drinking up the sight and telling her to cover up.
“Your turn to change,” she says. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.” She heads to the door and leaves.
I’m shoving down my pants when Amelia immediately comes waltzing back in.
I yank my pants back up. “Amelia,” I scold.
But she ignores my irritation.
“I’ve been thinking about this for hours, so I’m just going to ask you,” she says on a rush. “You told my dad you thought I was ready to start my own business. But he was just saying what you did, when you first found out I wanted to start my own business.”
“So?”
“Was it an act?” she asks. She’s speaking so fast that her words run together. “Were you saying all that because that’s what a fiancé would say? Or do you really think I can do it?”
I cross my arms. “It wasn’t an act.”
“What made you change your mind.”
“You.”
The look of shy hope on her face steals my breath away. And I can’t have that. So I scowl and gesture to the door. “Do you mind...?”
“Oh, sorry!” Amelia ducks back out into the hallway.
I change into my pajamas, doing my best to think about anything but Amelia.
I’m tossingand turning in the dark when I notice Amelia’s muttering something in her sleep.
I do what I’ve been avoiding since I got into this bed and turn toward her.
“Don’t leave,” she’s saying. “Don’t make me leave.” She’s frowning, shoulders curled inward, and her breathing is jagged. Like maybe she’s either on the verge of crying or waking up.
I shouldn’t be seeing this, I think.This is private.
But I am. I’m here, and I can’t leave her stranded alone in some nightmare.
