Stay with Me Page 20
“Is it weird that I hate that she didn’t change her name?” she asks quietly. “I mean, this is just fun between us, and I’m certainly not staking a claim or anything, but it’s weird that she didn’t change her name. I changed mine the second I could.”
We’re going to talk about this claim-staking nonsense later.
“I didn’t ask her why she didn’t change it,” I reply. “Maybe it was for convenience.”
“Maybe.”
“Any more questions?”
“Not today.” She smiles up at me, and I can’t help but lean down to kiss her lips.
“Well, good, because we’re almost there.” I point off to the distance, where we can see an island coming into view. “And I refuse to talk about unhappy things on our short vacation.”
“Agreed.” She nods once. “And in case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time.”
I stand and tug her into my arms, hugging her and rocking her back and forth, completely at home with her wrapped around me.
“Me, too, sweetheart.”
“So, what you’re saying is, this is something you like to do often.”
She’s panting in front of me, hiking up the trail in the woods not far from our resort. The trees are bright green, and the whole place reminds me of a rainforest. It’s damp; birds sing above.
It’s perfect.
“Hiking is good for the soul.”
“It makes a girl sweat,” she says, but she’s not whining. She’s just matter-of-fact, and it makes me laugh.
“Well, yeah. You didn’t seem to mind sweating last night.”
“That’s different.” She looks back at me and sticks her tongue out, then marches ahead. “I have to admit, though, it’s beautiful here. I live in a concrete jungle most of the time, and I forget that places like this exist.”
“You’re in good shape,” I comment. “It doesn’t seem like this is too hard for you.”
“Of course, it’s not too hard for me,” she replies, shaking her head. She insisted on carrying her own pack full of supplies when I offered to take everything in mine. She hasn’t complained a bit. “I can do it. I just don’t usually choose to hike in the wilderness. I lean toward girly things. Like shopping.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“But I’m not just a girly girl,” she continues loudly. “I’m also a badass.”
“Never said otherwise. But I would like to know why you’re talking so loud.”
She turns and props her hands on her hips, frowning at me. “So the animals can hear us coming and run away without eating us.”
“Exactly what kind of animals are you evading?” I can’t help but smile, delighted with her.
“You know. Bears. Lions. The kind that eats people.”
I step to her and drag my thumb over the apple of her cheek, enjoying her. She’s sans makeup today, and I secretly think she’s more beautiful this way, although I’ll never say that to her.
“Amelia, there are no bears or lions on this island. We’re not in Alaska. Or Africa, for that matter.”
“Nothing can kill me here?”
“No.”
She loosens up, her muscles letting go of the worry, and her whole face lights up. “Awesome. I’ll still talk, though, because that’s what I do.”
“I hope so.”
She turns and continues walking up the trail. “In fact, I think I’ll see if Jules and Nat want to shop sometime this week. The fall lines are starting to show up in stores, and I want a peek at them.”
“Have you enjoyed being home with your family?”
She nods. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know them well when I was a kid because I was so much younger. But now as adults, we get along great, and have a lot in common.”
And how much longer are you here?
Rather than ask, I hurry to catch up with her and take her hand in mine, threading our fingers.
She’s here today, and I’m enjoying the hell out of her.
“Today was pretty great,” Amelia says. We’re sitting on the balcony of our room, which looks out to the ocean. We can’t see it now that it’s dark, but we can still hear the waves crashing against the shoreline.
We just finished dinner, and Amelia is sitting back in her chair, one heel tucked against her ass so her knee is up against her chest, and she’s sipping her wine.
“You even left your phone in the room.”
She looks down at the device sitting on the table. “Yeah, and I turned off all of my notifications, aside from text messages. This is a vacation, right?”
“I’m impressed,” I reply and reach over to tug her foot into my lap. I dig my thumb into her arch, and she sighs in happiness.
“You’re good at this pampering thing.”
“I just took you out of town and am rubbing your foot.”
“Exactly,” she says and takes a sip of wine. “You’re rubbing my foot. Good things will come to you, my friend.”
I frown down at her toes and then look up at her. I wasn’t going to ask this weekend, but I need to know how much time I have with her.
“How long until you go back to L.A.?”
She pauses, takes another sip of wine, and then sets the glass aside.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you saying you’re in Seattle indefinitely?”
She frowns. “I honestly don’t know how long I’ll be here. I’ve planned on a couple of months at least.”
She climbs out of her chair and into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me close.
“I know that I’m enjoying you while I’m here,” she says. “And that sounds lame, but I really am enjoying you. And I will keep you posted when I know more.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Her small body fits perfectly against mine. She’s gently running her fingers through my hair, making me sleepy.
“I like your hair,” she says softly. “It’s one of the first things I noticed about you. You wear it long.”
“Would you prefer it short?”
She kisses my forehead. “I like it as it is. You don’t need a cut yet.”
Suddenly, her phone pings with a text. Without leaving my lap, she reaches over to snag it.
“It’s Samantha,” she says.
“Who’s Samantha?”
“Natalie’s sister-in-law,” she informs me as she opens the text. Her whole face breaks out in a happy smile. “Oh, she’s inviting us to go to a Nash concert next week.”
“Us?”
“Yeah.” She looks at me and bites her lip. “I might have talked about you during girls’ night out last week?”
“Is that so?” I press a kiss to her shoulder. “What did you say?”
“That you’re horrible.” She giggles as she replies to Samantha. “And not fun in bed at all.”
“So, the truth then.”
She laughs harder now, and my cock comes to full attention. It seems that happens no matter what we’re doing.
“Are you free on Wednesday evening?” she asks.
“Sure. How did she get Nash tickets? It’s been sold out for months.”
“Oh, she’s Leo’s wife.”
I’m certain I’ve misheard her. “What?”