I swallow hard. “More than I should.”
A slow smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, but it isn’t the usual teasing one. It is softer. Real.
And in that moment, the nerves don’t seem so heavy.
Dad was right.
But maybe… maybe this is where I want to be headed.
Amelia’s smile lingers, soft and easy, but I can feel the weight of the moment pressing in. Her fingers trace idle shapes across my chest, but her eyes—those deep, knowing eyes—remain locked on mine, waiting.
I suck in a breath and feel that edge of nerves tightening in my chest. But I can’t dance around this anymore.
Not with her.
“I—” I start, then stop, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not great at this… the whole, like, feelings conversation.”
Her brow arches, but she says nothing and just waits.
“But I gotta say it.” The words are heavy on my tongue, but they are real. “I didn’t expect this… you.”
Her expression softens, and the teasing edge fades into something deeper, more raw.
“This was supposed to be simple.” I keep going, the dam cracking wide open now. “We’re on the road, doing shows, living in the moment. But then you”—I gesture between us—“you came in like this damn wrecking ball, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.”
Her breath hitches, just barely, but I catch it.
I let out a rough chuckle, nerves still tangling in my gut. “I tried to play it cool. Told myself it was just… whatever. But it’snot. It’s you, Amelia. And I’m past the point of pretending it’s not more than just fun.”
There it is.
No hiding. No pulling back.
She is quiet for a beat too long, and my chest tightens, panic clawing up. But then she lets out a breathy laugh, her eyes glassy but bright.
“You’re such an idiot,” she whispers, but it’s soft, affectionate.
“Not exactly the response I was hoping for,” I mutter, but before I can spiral, she pushes herself up and swings a leg over me so she straddles my waist, her messy hair falling around us like a curtain.
Her hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing my jaw.
“I didn’t expect you either,” she says, her voice low, all the teasing stripped away. “And it scared the hell out of me. Still does.”
I swallow hard, my hands gripping her hips. “So what now?”
Her smile is pure trouble, but behind it, something deeper glints.
“Now,” she murmurs, leaning in close, “you kiss me, and we figure it out from there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I don’t need more than that.
I pull her down, crashing my mouth against hers, and feel that weight lift off my chest.
Maybe Dad was right—about the ride, about figuring it out—but right now?
