about who I was dating.
Truth was, she’d been occupying my thoughts since she walked away from me yesterday, and the reason was simple: Amelia Hall was the embodiment of hope.
All I had to do was not fuck up.
With that positive reinforcement at my back, I took a deep breath and opened the door.
Amelia seemed smaller than I remembered, her hair long and mostly straight. The flaxen strands held rings of the slightest natural wave. She was bundled up from top to toe in ten shades of white—her snow-white felt coat, her cream knit scarf, an ivory skirt, tights the color of chalk. In fact, the most colorful thing about her was her eyes, as blue and bright as the silvery winter sky above us.
Scratch that. The most colorful thing about her was the flush of her cheeks that rose like a blooming flower, peach and soft and delicate.
“Hey,” I said, stepping back and pulling the door open wider with me. “Come on in.”
Her flush deepened, but she smiled, dipping her head as she passed.
I closed the door behind her without looking as my eyes followed her into my entryway.
She paused by the bench and coat hooks, setting down her bag.
“Thanks for coming so soon,” I said, stepping toward her, reaching for her coat to help her out of it.
She stiffened in surprise, but she was still smiling. “M-my pleasure.”
I hung her coat on the rack as she unwound her scarf. Her blouse was creamy white too, and sheer, dotted with a tiny pattern I couldn’t make out.
“Are those…” I started, leaning in with my eyes squinted.
“Tabby cats,” she said matter-of-factly as she picked up her bag from the bench.
I chuckled once through my nose. “Of course they are.”
Her small face pinched in suspicion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
With a smile, I stepped into her space for the briefest moment. She took a breath, her face open and eyes blinking.
“You’re unconventional, Amelia Hall.” I angled closer. “And I like it.”
I removed myself from the intimacy and walked away, heading for the living room with my blood thrumming and my smile immovable.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked over my shoulder, feeling her behind me.
“N-no, thanks,” she answered, stopping in the living room and shuffling around.
I was about to speak—the words right there on the tip of my tongue—but when I turned around, they were instantly inconsequential and slipped from my mind, never to be recovered.
Amelia Hall was digging through her bag, hinged at the waist with her back straight, her ass out, and her hair falling over her shoulder, tucked behind her ear to frame her profile. Her ass was shaped just like a heart, stretching the construction of her skirt.
If I’d ever passed Amelia Hall on the street, she wouldn’t have caught my attention. But that was the thing about girls like her. Once you saw them, there was no unseeing them.
Theo cleared his throat from somewhere behind me, and Amelia shot upright, her hands clutching a notebook and pen and her face open as a 7-Eleven.
Her eyes bounced from me, to Theo, then back at least a half-dozen times.
I sighed.
It was always like this. On our own, my brother and I tended to evoke a reaction from women. But when we were together? Women occasionally ceased motor function. I would have smiled if it wasn’t for a pang of annoyance that she was looking at my brother that way.
I attributed my usual upper hand in such situations to a combination of my hair and leather jacket. The thought that she might prefer the clean-cut, responsible version of me was a little too much to stomach.
Theo stepped toward her, smiling amicably. “Hello, Amelia. I’m Theo. We emailed yesterday.” He stuck out his hand.
Her cheeks were flushed as she blinked, looking at his hand, then up at him, then back at me. “There are two of you.”
Theo’s smirk rose. “Yeah, but too bad for Tommy that I got all the charm and good looks.”
Amelia smiled in the most timid curve of her lips. She extended her hand with apprehension, and it disappeared into his. “Nice to meet you,” she answered so softly, I barely heard her.
Theo didn’t miss a beat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. Thanks for coming to bail him out,” he said with a smile and a nod in my direction. He leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s hopeless, you know.”
She smiled at that, relaxing incrementally. “Nothing’s hopeless. With a little hard work, anything can be saved.”
“Coming