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Why the hell is my brother talking about her now?
“Matty, what are you trying to say?”
“Nothing. I just like Amber.”
I can only imagine his reaction (and Clay’s) if I’d told him I tried to kiss her and failed. But I was urged by desperation. Touching her nape, smelling her perfume, feeling her hair, hearing her voice—everything about her just thawed my heart. Then, the thought that Clay was weathering the stormy night cuddling with Katie just made me brash.
I shouldn’t have tried for that kiss, but in the end, spending a few hours with Amber-Rose on the couch was more than I could ask for. Emotions––something I don’t talk about. Her sheer presence raised me up and put me down gently. A simple conversation, yet her tone of voice and the look in her eyes effortlessly compelled me to open up more than I had to anyone else.
Amber-Rose was extraordinariness.
She was impossibility.
The night ended better than expected, and the morning that followed passed by like there was only one minute in every hour. As if bewitched, I stupidly let her walk out my door without any ‘call you later’ or ‘let’s do this again next week’ kind of goodbye.
I. Just. Let. Her. Go.
Now the aftermath from my time with Amber-Rose has produced more questions that urgently need answers.
My feelings for her—what are they? It feels like love, but… is it?
Why the fuck does this have to be so complicated?
Since my first kiss at fifteen, I’d never had to work hard to keep myself in female company. Girls came to me, eager to press their lips against mine and drag me to their beds. Ultimately, I was the one who decided, and most of the time I said no. Cocky, but it’s a fact. The old Rob Hartley would’ve felt bitter about Amber-Rose saying no to my kiss. But after what I’ve been through, and what she’s done for me, I’m simply humbled.
One thing at a time. My heart be lonely right now, but my life is slowly turning toward comfortable routine, as Matty seems to have gotten over the worst.
“Be good!” I say as I drop him off at the gate.
“I know it’s strawberry cheesecake.” Matty smiles at me. “Thanks, Rob!”
I wave at my brother and drive on to Newport.
* * *
Clay arrivesat the Hartley Marine headquarters in his Porsche, almost at the same time I get there. I haven’t seen him in almost a week, since he’s been busting his ass bringing the Hartley road show around the country. While we’re still debating the fate of the Terra collection (Rocky is insisting that we have to reduce the size), the Pentela—the one that Clay was promoting in the road show—is ready to go. He’s come back to LA just in time for our launch party tonight.
“We have a hundred twenty-six RSVPs,” I fill Clay in on the final guest tally.
“No shit!”
“What can I say, you’re the schmooze master. Katie coming tonight?” I ask about his girlfriend.
“Nah, she has another dinner to go to. So, just like the previous party, and the one before, and the one before, you can have me as your date.” He pats my shoulder, and then he appraises me. “What’s up?”
I might’ve lost Amber-Rose.
“Nothing.”
“How’s Matty?”
“He’s loving school. Fingers crossed, his fits seem to be a thing of a past.”
“Don’t claim all the glory.”
I tilt my head. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Clay winks at me as we make our way into the building. “You know what I mean!”
