I step out of the car, and a couple of college-aged kids barrel out of the club looking like they’re on their way to Coachella. Which reminds me that I’m in my usual boardroom attire, a three-piece suit and tie. “This should be fun,” I say out loud.
I walk into the club and immediately feel knots turning in my stomach. There are a lot more men than women here, and Amelia has been here all night. According to Nikki’s incessant social media updates, I know that they had four shots before leaving the house, and they were cheering in a group selfie thanking Amelia for a round of drinks.
I fear for the state I’m going to find Amelia in. I know firsthand how special her mother was. I know that her death has forever changed her, and I’m just praying that I don’t see her curled up in a corner crying, because I don’t know if I would have the strength to not pull her into my arms and hold her there until the sun comes up.
Finally, after weaving through the crowd for a few moments, I spot something that resembles the glimmer from Amelia’s outfit. I get closer, and freeze.
Nope, definitely not crying.
It takes my brain a few seconds to come to terms with how the woman dancing in the center of the crowd, moving her body in the most joyful yet sinful manner, is Amelia. Once I get a better look of her side profile through the crowd, I can tell that she’s singing the song out loud.
Of course she is.
I dare get a few feet closer, and all I can feel is the heat rising in my chest.
I get a full unobstructed view of Amelia, and I see ALL of Amelia. The front of the dress is asking for a wardrobe malfunction, with her cleavage on full display. Her breasts rise and fall with every move she makes, highlighted by her hands running all over her body.
Fuck, I’m never going to get this visual out of my head.
She then sways her body and my hands balled into fists. Her dress is hugging her curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination, and trust me, I’ve had a long time to—imagine—many things about Amelia. But what stands before me doesn’t even come close.
Also, the fact that one of her booty shaking moves can easily ride the dress up and give everyone a peek of that scrumptious, thick ass—
Stop. You don’t need an erection while yelling at Amelia...
Too late.
At that moment, I realize that every man in that room is salivating over her. Where the hell is her fiancé? Where is Nikki? What the hell is she doing? Before I can ask myself another stupid question, I see her turn in my direction. Releasing the rage that’s been burning in my chest since I first saw her face flash across my screen, I shout, “AMELIA!”
9
Amelia
EvanFuckingCooper.
For a split second I think I may be hallucinating. That the alcohol and booty shaking combo has somehow managed to make me start seeing things. But Evan closes the distance between us, and the realization that he’s actually here hits me like a freight train, and instantly starts the process of sobering me up.
“Amelia, what the fuck are you doing?” Evan yells.
“Training for the New York City Marathon. You?” I say casually.
Evan snarls. He knows that I have quite the mouth on me, but I assume he at least expected me to be embarrassed at being seen like this.
“I don’t have time for this, get your coat, I’m driving you hom—”
“Is there a problem here Amelia?” Justin shouts while staring directly at Evan.
“Nope, no problem at all. Evan here was just leaving,” I say as I put my hands on Evan’s arm and attempt to turn him towards the exit. He doesn’t move an inch, while I get a handful of his biceps.
Sheesh.
We both stay locked in a staring contest while I make pitiful attempts to move him.
“Wait, wait, wait. Evan? As in EvanFuckingCooper?” Nikki screeches. “My my my have I heard stories about you, Mr. Cooper!” Nikki grins. “Babe, Evan and Amelia have known each other since they were kids. No need to break any necks tonight,” she chuckles as she playfully rubs her hands over Justin’s chest.
“Actually, the jury is still out on that one, so please standby.” I give up trying to push Evan out of the door, but I still have my hands on him. Evan looks down at the point that connects us, and I quickly drop my hands to my sides.
“Amelia. Outside. Now... Please,” he says through gritted teeth.
