9. Amelia
Chapter 9
Amelia
I t's the middle of the week, and I'm losing my mind. The Gossip Girl episodes blur together, a background noise to my mindless Instagram scroll, with each reel more mind-numbing than the last.
If dancing weren't my salvation, I'd have gone stir-crazy weeks ago.
Next week promises something different. My first day with the dance company—it's just an induction, but I can't wait to get there. Knowing I'll be back in a real studio, surrounded by others who live and breathe the same passion as me, excites me. It motivates me. But right now, I feel like I'm stuck in this too-big, too-empty apartment. Tobias is either working or off doing God knows what, and I'm left here alone, playing princess in the tower, waiting for something to distract me.
Feeling deflated and needing a little purpose, I reach out to the one person I know in this city who isn't my stepbrother. My fingers hover over my phone for a moment before I finally hit send.
AMELIA
Hey, Harper. How are you? I was wondering if you knew of any job openings? I swear I've got cabin fever, and if I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to start having full-blown conversations with myself.
Not even five minutes pass before my phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with Harper’s name.
HARPER
All good here, thank you. Logan's parents own a bar, so you could always ask him.I'll send over his number.
Logan's number comes through almost immediately, and I quickly send a message.
AMELIA
Hey Logan, it's Amelia from the other night at the bar. I was asking Harper if she knew of any job openings, and she mentioned that your parents run a bar. So I was wondering if they might want to hire someone with zero experience but who's a quick learner?
Okay, so Logan doesn't message back anywhere near as fast as Harper, but I'm not exactly shocked. It's just a guy thing, right? Tobias is exactly the same. Sometimes, it feels like it takes him three to five business days to respond, even when the damn read receipt is sitting there mocking me.
With my phone still in my hand, I scroll through my contacts and find Allison's name. I hit call, and a smile tugs at my lips just thinking about hearing her voice.
Allison's my best friend from back home, and aside from Tobias, she knows me better than anyone, and unlike Tobias, she's fully aware of my dumb-as-shit, can't-even-deny-it attraction to him.
I fold my knees into my chest, nestling back into the couch cushions with my phone pressed against my ear, waiting for her to pick up.
"Milly! I swear I was just thinking about you." Allison's voice bursts through, and just like that, my day is better.
"Bullshit," I call her out, but there's nothing but pure joy in my laugh.
Through the phone, I hear her signature high-pitched laugh—the kind you'd recognize in a crowded room without even looking.
"No, seriously," she insists. "I was watching One Tree Hill this morning. Do you remember how in love we were with Lucas Scott? I had a jersey and everything."
"Yeah, back when we thought true love was pining after a guy who couldn't decide between two girls for nearly nine seasons."
"Peyton was always endgame," Allison declares with the same conviction she's had since we were sixteen. "I actually saw him on TV the other day, and that man has aged like a fine wine."
"He's a little different from what you go for now."
Her current type is worlds away from the clean-cut blond who, looking back, probably wasn't even the better Scott brother.
Jordan, her girlfriend, has dark-blue hair that falls all the way down to the best ass I've ever seen. Her tattoos and piercings might scream badass, but beneath that edgy exterior is a woman who's softer than the clouds. The kind of soft that doesn't just watch you ugly cry—she's gonna break right alongside you. I'm talking tears streaming down her face, mascara everywhere, looking like she's crawled out of the same dark pit and knows exactly what it feels like.
"Speaking of true love, how's Tobias doing?"
"Yeah, I hate you," I grumble, my words muffled by the palm I drag down my face.
"You don't, but I'll let it slide."
"Firstly, it isn't love. It's not that deep. And secondly, it's not my fault he's hot. You know he is, so don't even pretend like I'm making this shit up."
"Oh, I'm not denying it. Tobias is stupid hot."
"One day, he'll stop looking like he does, and I'll stop feeling like this."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that, Milly," she says, not buying it for a single second.
"Whatever, just let me live in denial."
"Fine, but I do have a question."
"Do I want to know?"
"If you had the chance… would you?"
Her words hang in the air, asking what she doesn't have to—would I cross that line with Tobias if the opportunity presented itself?
My mind betrays me, flashing straight to him—the cocky half-smile that makes my traitorous heart race, the way his touch feels so innocent yet makes my stomach flip. And then there's the way Firefly slips so effortlessly from his lips.
I sit up straight, my chest tightening as I say, "No."
The word leaves my mouth quickly, almost too quickly. It feels like a reflex, but I force myself to swallow and suppress any slightly confusing feelings that are trying to claw their way to the surface.
"I'm happy just looking at him. I want things to stay the way they are between us." My pulse thunders in my ears, betraying the lie even as the words leave my mouth.
"I'll remind you of that if you ever have a fuck-it moment."
God, I miss her.
She's the one piece of home that hurts to leave behind, the only part I wish I could have here. It's funny—when I was in Pennsylvania, I missed Tobias every day. Now that I've settled in this beautiful city, it's her absence that stings the most. They're the two people closest to me, yet I can never have them both in the same place at the same time.
A quiet beeping noise interrupts my thoughts, and I glance down at the screen, seeing Logan's name flashing as an incoming call.
"Alli, I gotta go. Someone's calling me about a job, so I need to take it."
"Go, get to work, princess." She laughs, her voice trailing off as I cut the call and quickly swipe to answer.
"Hey, Logan."
"I thought you were about to ghost me for a minute," he says with a chuckle.
"Not at all. I was just on another call."
"Oh, sorry. Do you want me to call back later?"
"No, no, definitely not."
"I got your message about needing a job," he says. There's a pause as I hear him shuffle something in the background—it sounds like papers. "You know the money isn't the best, and the customers can be a little…"
"Rough around the edges?"
"Massive understatement."
"I'm good with people, and I can handle myself."
"I don't doubt that." I can hear him smiling through the phone. "I'll talk to my parents for you. They've been running the bar since forever, and if they have the hours, then maybe you can shadow me for a few shifts."
"That would be amazing, but only if they're looking to take someone on."
"Trust me, my sister has been trying to ditch her shifts for months, so if you're more reliable than her, you're golden."
"Okay, but I don't want to steal someone's job."
"Chrissy's been begging to be fired for a long time. She hates working for our parents," he says, laughing loudly now.
"Are they that bad?"
"No, she's just a rebellious pain in the ass."
"Well, I can't promise that I'm not a pain in the ass, but I am reliable, and I hate letting people down."
"I'll go see them now and send you a message in a bit. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll put in a good word for you."
"Thanks, Logan. I really appreciate it."
"No problem. Catch you later."
The call ends, leaving me in the quiet of the apartment. I stretch out on the couch and take a deep breath. My stomach suddenly growls, reminding me that coffee is not, in fact, a meal, and I should probably eat something, but before I can even sit up, my phone buzzes.
LOGAN
Can you come in tonight?
AMELIA
Sure, just send me the location.
I'm excited.
Do I need to work? No.
One phone call is all it would take to have money wired into my account faster than you can say "spoiled brat." But that's exactly what I don't want. I want to be independent in everything, including financially.
Yeah, our apartment is paid for, and yes, my mom deposits money into my account every week, treating me like I'm some kind of kid needing an allowance.
I won't pretend I haven't used any of it, because I have and hate it. It just feels wrong to spend it like I'm some pampered princess who can't take care of herself—someone who's just coasting through life without having to lift a finger—when, in reality, I've spent years using every muscle and every tendon, trying my hardest to perfect this thing I love, fighting for it in ways my mom will never understand. It's blood and sweat and aching joints, chasing a dream she still calls a "hobby," no matter how much I've bled for it.
I wonder if Tobias ever sees me like that—some fragile girl who can't get by without her family's money?
No. He knows me better.
He knows I've been working my ass off to get to where I am—he may not have really seen me dance before, but he knows how much time I used to put in at the studio and how many late nights I would spend pushing through the ache in my muscles and the pain of my blisters just so I could better myself.
People’s opinions don’t usually get to me, but his? Yeah, that one hits different.
After a long shower, I pull on a pair of denim cutoffs and a white T-shirt—effortlessly casual but still cute enough to feel put together. My hair dries in soft, natural waves, and I throw on just enough makeup to look alive.
Grabbing my keys and phone, I shove them into my back pocket and approach the door, colliding straight into Tobias as he strolls into the apartment.
"Hey, you going somewhere?"he asks.
"I'm going to see someone about a job."
"You serious?"
"Yeah, why?" I bite back, crossing my arms defensively over my chest.
"Do you even need a job? I know you get your lifestyle paid for."
"My lifestyle?" I spit the word back at him like venom. "Are you fucking serious?"
"I'm just saying you don't need to worry about food or anything else you might need. Don't take offense, Mills."
"Well, maybe as a twenty-two-year-old living away from my parents, I don't want to rely on their money. Maybe I want to do a little something for myself." Now I'm just frustrated because, of all people, I thought he'd understand.
"Where is it?" His curiosity is barely masked as he leans against the doorframe.
"It's a bar. Dawson's Tavern."
"Never heard of it."
"This guy I met, Logan—his family owns it," I say as I pull out my phone to check the time.
"Who the hell is Logan?"
I roll my eyes so hard I'm pretty sure they might fall out of my head, already over this whole overprotective big-brother thing. "I met him the night I went to that dance meetup."
"Is he a nice guy?"
"Well, he's helping me out with a job, and he doesn't have to, so yeah, I'd say that puts him in the nice-guy category. Low bar, I know, but I'll take what I can get."
Tobias arches one of those infuriatingly perfect eyebrows. "Is he hot?"
I pause, the image of Logan flickering in my mind. I picture his messy blond scruff—it's an I-rolled-out-of-bed-and-don't-give-a-shit kind of mess. And that little smile, the one that teeters on the edge of being cute but has something deeper simmering underneath.
Before I can respond, Tobias cuts in, "I'll take that silence as a yes."
"Whether he's hot or not is irrelevant." I exhale hard enough to blow a stray strand of hair out of my face. "I need to get out of here and do something. I'm stuck in this apartment day and night. You're either working, hanging out with Harry, or going out with whoever you're seeing this week."
Tobias looks mildly offended, but that's his problem. He's used to me being here when he comes home, so of course he doesn't get it.
"You work. Why shouldn't I?" I ask, daring him to push back.
"I have to work."
"No, you work because you love what you do. If you didn't, you'd already be Daddy's little pet, sitting pretty behind a desk."
I watch his jaw tighten at the mention of his worst nightmare, but I'm past caring right now.
"The company hasn't even started paying me yet, and when it does, it's barely anything. I'm not even there full-time. I'm not planning on working in a bar forever, but right now, I want to do something to support myself. I need to."
His defenses crumble, and his face softens. "You're right. I'm sorry."
He steps closer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me flush against his chest. My arms instinctively circle his back as he inhales deeply, his breath fanning over my hair, causing my body to react in ways it absolutely shouldn't.
"I still need to steal your shampoo," he murmurs, and I laugh softly against his chest, the sound swallowed by the steady beat of his heart. "Do you want me to drive you? I'm not doing anything tonight." I tilt my head up, nodding as I meet his gaze.
For a split second, I freeze as unwelcome butterflies start to swirl, and I hate the way my pulse jumps.
To anyone else, we probably look like two people completely lost in each other, and maybe I am a little. Still, I know there's nothing beneath the surface for Tobias—no hidden attraction, no inappropriate feelings. It's just how we are—close, maybe too close sometimes, but it's completely innocent for him.
I quickly break the weird tension by jabbing him in the ribs. He jerks, releasing me instantly, and the tension shatters as he jumps back, laughing and scowling at the same time.
"You're a fucking menace, Mills."