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As for how I know Amelia … it’s a simple story. We met randomly. Talked. Thought she might be my soulmate. Then I realized she was my coach’s daughter. The quintessential Romeo and Juliet story. But with more hockey and hopefully with less death and mayhem.
So, for months I tried to forget her. I tried dating her out of my system, but it’s like meeting Amelia altered my brain chemistry. I compared every woman to the one with the sweet smile who stole my fries and made me feel like I was the living embodiment of a Taylor Swift song. One of the happy ones, not the breakup ones.
Robbie—a man I’ve met only once but couldn’t forget. Hard to do when you have a great conversation with a stranger, the sparks flew so hard they almost singed the roof off the building, and then the guy heads to the bathroom and … never returns. Not that I’ve been harboring bitterness about it for the past year or anything.
It’s the way her kindness and whatever else shines through her physical beauty that makes her offer so tempting. Because when I look at Amelia, I see more. I feel more. More than what I usually feel when I’m around a hot woman. More than I’ve wanted to have with another woman. More, more, more.
“I’m not a bad guy. I wouldn’t be here if I were.” “I know.” Her voice is soft, barely more than a whisper. Then she reaches over and brushes her fingertips across my arm.
The man is potent. Even when he’s not trying to be. And if this is him not trying, him just pretending so we can ditch the overzealous flight attendant, I’d hate to see Van’s charm dialed up to even a medium setting. I’d melt right into this lovely faux leather seat.
raise my voice, as obviously, he has a hearing problem. “I don’t come close to being good enough for Amelia. But if she were mine? I would never let her go. I would spend every waking day and every single breath just hoping I could show her the love she deserves.”
Who does that? The kind of guy you keep. That’s who. Now Morgan is saying to ignore that. She’s telling me not to act on the things I feel just because of what I’ve gone through in the last day.
What I want is the man who glances everywhere until he sees me on the balcony. A man whose whole body relaxes when his eyes find mine. A man whose sweat-soaked shirt sticks to his body like a second skin. Whose dark hair is a mess. Whose smile sends my insides veering off a cliff and into a freefall.
Forget why we’re here. Forget she’s not mine. Forget my own name. “Hi,” she whispers, like we’re sharing a legitimate moment. And then, we are. I reach up and brush back a strand of hair that’s escaped her braid. When my knuckles graze her neck, she shivers. “You good, Mills?” Because I’m not. In fact, I’m starting to suspect Amelia is going to ruin me. But I sure am enjoying the ride.
He touches my chin gently, tilting my face up toward his. “If I’ve kept things light, it’s because I take commitment seriously. And I hadn’t found the right woman for that.” He hadn’t.
“This means something to me, Mills. The way I feel about you is not casual.” My hands had been loosely curled around his waist, and I lift them now, cupping his prickly jaw in my palms. “It’s not casual for me either. More like … monumental. And I’ll be honest—it scares me.”
“He’ll probably never settle down,” Alec says. “Wrong on both counts,” Van says, inching forward until he’s leaning practically halfway across the table. “I don’t like being single. And it would only take the right woman to make me put a ring on it.”
