44. Amelia
Chapter 44
Amelia
T he scent of pizza hits me as soon as I open the front door, and after a day of dancing that felt like a full-body workout designed by a sadist, I'm ready to eat my body weight in food.
"Mills?"Tobias'svoice comes from somewhere down the hall.
"Kitchen!" I call back, already tearing into the box like it holds the cure for all my problems.
"What are you doing?" He chuckles, and I realize he's caught me standing on my tiptoes at the kitchen island, leaning over the pizza with my face practically inside the box, huffing cheese fumes like they're lines of cocaine.
"Smells so good," I mutter, turning my head to face him, and—oh, fuck me.
Gray sweats hang low on his hips, paired with a white T-shirt that clings to every muscle. His hands are stuffed casually into his pockets, but his smirk is anything butrelaxed.
The bastard knows exactly what he's doing, looking like a thirst trap that grew legs and walked straight out of my phone.
A groan escapes my lips as my blood turns to fire, but I immediately cover it with an exaggerated sigh, pretending it's all about the pizza.
"Get your face out of it and grab a couple of plates." He waits, patient as ever, while I choose my slices.
My legs find their place on the couch, stretched out in front of me, and for a moment, everything feels normal.
"How'd it go today?"
My smile breaks free before I can stop it. "Tiring, but god, Tobias. It was everything I always thought it would be." I let out a breath, still riding the high of the day. "Honestly, I loved it."
"Good," he says, nodding like he'd expected nothing less. "I'm glad you had fun."
"Actually—" I sit up straighter, my pizza momentarily forgotten. "They're letting apprentices audition for the upcoming tour."
His slice stops halfway to his mouth. "The national tour?"
"Yeah." The words tumble out in a rush. "Remember when I explained my role there? How they don't take apprentices on tour? You usually have to wait until the second year at the earliest?" My hands are moving now, pizza grease probably flying everywhere. "Well, Logantold metheyask apprentices to audition. If we're good enough, we get to go."
"That's amazing. Areyougonna go for it?"
"If I get on it, then it's a step toward my dream. I justreallywanna be on that stage."
He really looks at me, and I see itstraight away—the thing he's trying to hide. I know Tobias. I know he'd rather cut out his own heart before caging me. But watching me chase my dreams means watching me walk away.
"So were people nice to you, new girl?"
"I spent most of the day with Logan."
"I still can't picture that guy twirling around in tights," Tobias mutters, smirking as he stretches his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers just barely grazing my shoulder.
The TV hums in the background, but it might as well be static for all the good it's doing to quiet my thoughts. I shovel pizza into my mouth like it's my last meal, each bite buying me seconds before the conversation I know is coming.
When I catch sight of his empty plate, my stomach knots. I grab our dishes and escape to the kitchen, where ceramic meets sink with a clash that echoes through the apartment. Igrip the counter's edge, letting the cool surface ground me while my heart does its best to crawl up my throat.
Being intimate with him was easy. Our bodies knew what to do, how to move, and where to touch. But feelings? Talking about what this means? That's a different beast entirely.
I force myself back to the living room, but I can't sit close to him. Not when his presence fills every inch of space, making it hard to think and even harder to breathe. So I retreat to the far end of the couch, pulling my knees to my chest in some futile attempt at building a wall between us.
But Tobias has never been one to let me hide. His eyes find mine, crystal blues that see too much and demand everything.
"You done running from me, Firefly?"
"I think so," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
He mutes the TV and turns to face me fully, propping an elbow on the back of the couch and resting his head in his hand.
"It's me, Mills. It's us. We can talk about this."
"This isn't like talking about our parents or school bullies, Tobias. This is…"I trail off, unable to finish the sentence. Different. Dangerous. The kind of conversation that could change everything.
"I know. I get it. It's not straightforward for me either."His voice gentles, but his eyes pin me in place and strip me to the bone. "But I can't keep doing whatever this is without knowing where you stand and what you want from it."
I nod, trying to remember how breathing actually works.
Inhale. Exhale.
"You know me, Mills. You know I call shit for what it is, and I need you to do the same."
"When did this change for you?"The question tumbles out before I can stop it.
"The night I picked you up from the bar."
"We fought that night."
"We did."That smile—fuck, that smile should be illegal. "But, baby, I like angry sex, so the next time you wanna fight me, I'll pin you down and fuck you so good that neither of us ever has to say they're sorry."
I'm dead. I'm deceased. Gone.
My soul has left my body.
There's no coming back from that.
"Noted," I mutter, barely holding it together. That's all I've got. My brain has left the building. "Seriously though, it goes back that far?"
"Yeah, what about you?"
Oh fuck. No. My pulse kicks into overdrive as panic rips through my chest. That truth is locked away for a reason. But the way he's looking at me, as if he's willing to wait forever but knows he won't have to, tells me that I'm just a few seconds away from breaking down and spilling everything.
"I think it was the night I met Jen and Zane for the first time." The lie slips out smoothly, but Tobias stares at me, his eyes burning with that unnerving ability to see through me.
"How long before that?"
I exhale slowly, defeat settling in my bones because you sure as shit can't lie to someone who's spent years learning every tell and every defense mechanism you've ever built.
"Please don't make me answer." My voice cracks, betraying everything I'm trying to hide.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm scared it'll change things between us."
"It won't." He leans in, and I think the gentleness in his eyes might actually break me. "Whatever it is, Mills. I promise it won't change anything."
I swallow hard, the confession lodged in my throat like a stone. "I've found you attractive for a long time, Tobias."
"Well, you're only human," he teases, flashing that crooked grin. But then his smile falters, his brows pull together, and the weight of what I said sinks in. "Oh…"
"I thought you were cute when we met," I admit, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. "But as I got older, that attraction never went away. It's never been more than that, and I don't want you to think I've been pining away or some shit. It was just physical." I force a nervous laugh. "Our friendship, or whatever we call it, has always been real. There was never an agenda to get close."
"We've always been close."
"But not because I wanted more or ever thought something would happen between us," I reply quickly, needing him to believe it.
"Damn, Firefly, you've been crushing on me for nearly a decade?" he exclaims, his laughter breaking through the tension.
I groan, burying my face with my hands. "I really do hate you."
"Whatever, you love me," he tosses those three words around so easily, but they hit differently now, making my heart stumble.
His hands pull mine away from my face, holding them firmly in his. "You've always been beautiful, Mills. I've always thought so. The sexual chemistry wasn't there, maybe because it was never allowed to be. But our bond? It's the same, isn't it? We've always been connected. But now, the way you look at me—it's unlike how you've ever looked at me before."
"How do I look at you now?"
"Like you want me to slam you against the nearest wall or door and fuck you into next week." My body responds before my brain can catch up, lips parting on a breath I can't quite catch.
"Yeah, there it is," he says, his voice dropping to something dark and hungry. "That's the look."
"We're never getting through this conversation if you keep saying things like that."
"You asked, Firefly."
"Is this smart, Tobias? Do you understand how badly this could break us if it all goes to shit?" I don't bother masking the crack in my voice now.
"Yeah." One word, and it's as solid as concrete.
"And you don't care?"
"I do." He drags a hand down his face like he's trying to hold himself together. "But I want you more." His admission is raw, and the vulnerability in his voice floors me. "If you want out, say it now, Mills. I'll hate it, but I'll respect it because losing you isn't an option. You promised."
"I just need to know one thing," I whisper.
"Go on."
"What happens if one of us starts to feel more?"
He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean starts ?"
"I mean…" I take a breath, forcing the words out before I lose my nerve. "If one of us looks at this like it goes beyond a physical thing." Like I already do , my heart screams, but I keep that truth locked behind my teeth where it can't destroy us.
"I can't just do sex with you, Amelia. It was always going to be more."
My heart stops dead before kicking back to life. "Okay… so how does this end?"
His brows knit together, frustration creeping into his features as he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Why are you thinking like that?"
"Because it's you."
"Wow." He leans back, the one word heavy with disbelief.
"And it's us," I add, knowing it won't help but needing to say it anyway.
"Right? Still failing to see your point." Anger edges into his voice, and I hate it, but I don't know how to say this without it coming out wrong.
"I've never known you to have a girlfriend, Tobias. Not really. Not one who’s lasted, anyway."
"For a fucking reason," he snaps. "If it didn't work, they weren't right for me."
"And I'm right for you?" I laugh, a hollow sound that barely disguises the fear digging into my chest.
He exhales, his frustration melting into something softer. "I don't know how to answer that because you've always been my person. And now you're the person I can't stop thinking about or needing to touch whenever I'm near you. I don't know exactly what that means, but I'm not thinking about this as what happens when it ends . I'm thinking about what I want right now."
"Which is me?"
"Which is you."
"If I get onto the tour, you know I'll be leaving."
"Yeah, I got that."
"Six months, Tobias."
"We've done it before, Mills. Survived it then."
His fingers tap against his thigh—that nervous tell that makes me want to reach out and still them with my own hand. It makes me want to crawl into his lap and press my palm over his heart to calm the storm I know is brewing beneath his controlled surface. It makes me want to forget every reason we shouldn't do this.
"It's different now."
"It doesn't have to be."
"So let's say I get on the tour," I push, needing him to hear me out. "We hook up or do… whatever this is until I leave, and then what? High-five for the orgasms and pretend it never happened? Come back and act normal while we're living together?"
"You're getting so far in your head here, baby."
"I don't want to ruin us. That's what it boils down to," I admit, my heart tightening. "No matter how much we say it won't, it could."
"Trust me, I get it. The idea of you not being in my life…" He looks away, jaw clenching as he stares at some point on the wall before meeting my eyes again. "It fucking terrifies me. But I can't keep living with you and not touch you when I feel like this."
Tobiasreaches across and wraps his hand around mine. "Why don't we sleep on it tonight? We've said a lot, and I think we might feel clearer in the morning."
"Yeah, okay."
He leans in, pressing his lips to my hair, and the tenderness of it stings behind my eyes, but I blink back the tears, refusing to let them fall.
"It'll be okay, I promise."
I stand slowly, my fingers trailing across his shoulder as I move to leave—one last touch to hold me over.
"Night," I breathe out, glancing back.
"Goodnight, Mills."
I practically run to my room, fighting everything in my body that's screaming at me to turn around andgo back to him.
Heading straight for the shower, I leave my clothes in a trail of evidence leading to my bathroom. I step inside and feel the warmth of the water caress my skin, washing the day away.
My muscles ache, but the throbbing between my legs is worse—a pulsing reminder of how empty I am and how much I need him to fill me. My imagination runs wild with images of him—his hands gripping my hips, pulling me back against him. His breath hot against my neck, teeth scraping my skin. His cock pressing into me, stretching me, owning me.
I've lost all control of my thoughts, and honestly? I don't want it back.
Every instinct is begging me to go to him, to let him take me apart piece by piece, to submit to whatever this is between us. But we've cracked ourselves open tonight, spilling truths we can't take back.
Maybe he needs time to process the shift in our universe just as much as I do.
The water runs over my breasts, down my stomach, and between my thighs—each drop of water a cruel tease, a ghost of the hands I'm craving. I reach for my shampoo, trying to focus on anything but thoughts of how his fingers would feel sliding over my soap-slicked skin, how he'd turn me to face the wall, how he'd…
Tobias.
One second I'm alone… the next, his body is caging mine.
"Let me." He breathes against my ear.
His strong fingers thread through my hair, massaging my scalp with a tenderness that makes my head fall back against hischest. A moan escapes my lips as his mouth finds the sensitive spot where my neck slopes into my shoulder, his hard length pressing insistently against my lower back.
He takes his time with my hair, turning simple touches into torment.
"Is this okay,Firefly?" The nickname falls from his lips before he sucks hard on my neck, making my knees buckle beneath me.
His hand splays across my stomach, holding me steady while the other curves around my neck, and he guides my face to his. Water runs down his gorgeous face, droplets clinging to his lashes like tiny diamonds. When I lean forward to taste them from his lips, he groans before claiming my mouth in a kiss that causes my core to clench with need. His hand trails lower, slipping between my thighs, and when his fingers part me, I cry out like the needy little slut I've become for him.
He cups my pussy andthe heel of his palm grindsagainst my clit. Two thick fingers slide inside, stretching me in that way that has me arching like a bow, desperate for more.
"Were you thinking about me in here, baby?"
"Yes," I confess.
"I can feel it. So fucking wet for me." His fingers stay buried deep, while his thumbcircles my clit, leaving me seconds away from begging him to let me come.
But then he stops.
"Fuck no, not yet," he mutters, pulling his fingers from me and leaving me right on the edge.
Before I can protest, he turns me in his arms, lifting me like I weigh nothing. Hot water rains down my back, but it's the cold shock of glass against my ass that tears a gasp from my throat.
"I need to be inside you."
He nudges against my entrance, promising the kind of pleasure that only comes with absolute trust, and god, I need him to fill me. I need him to stretch me open and feel his cum paint my walls when he finally breaks.
"I've never… not once." The confession slips from his lips, and it does something to my stupid heart. He doesn't need to finish the thought—I already know. I trust him with everything I am, even with this.
Especially with this.
The trust burning in his eyes mirrors the surrender in mine—a silent contract written in want and sealed with need.
"If it wasn't already crystal fucking clear, you own me, Firefly," he growls, every word sounding like it's being ripped from a place no one's ever dared to touch. "And after this… fuck, I'll do anything."
I have no idea what he’s offering, and I don’t think he does either, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.
"This… I just want this."
He thrusts deep, burying himself to the hilt, and my cry is swallowed by his mouth on mine. Bare skin against bare skin, no barriers, no distance—just Tobias. Just us.
He doesn't move at first, letting me feel every inch of him stretching me as I adjust to his size.
And then he does.
The first thrust is slow, like he wants me to feel every inch of him dragging against my walls. But patience fades fast, giving way to something primal as he picks up the pace and drives into me.
Our chests rise and fall together, desperate breaths mingling with the pounding water.
I drag my lips across his jaw, trailing toward his ear. "Fuck me hard, baby."
He starts to move like a man possessed, murmuring filthy promises in my ear, each word making my body tremble in his arms.
"All these years," he growls,his teeth gently grazingthe sensitive skinon my ear."I've wasted so much time not touching you like this."
My legs tighten around his waist, locking him to me while my arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer. Every brutal thrust robs me of breath, leaving only his name on my lips.
"Fuck, you're close. I can feel it," he rasps, his voice wrecked as he pounds into me, each stroke hitting that perfect spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes. "I wanna feel you fucking soak me when youcome."
Hiswords push me over the edge, my body going rigid before splintering into pieces. Heat, fire, pleasure—everything detonates at once, and my orgasm crashes through me with a force that leaves me crying out his name.
"Fuck, fuck, baby, fuck." Tobias groans, his rhythm growing erratic as he chases his own release. His hips slam home one final time before he stills, and a roar of pleasure echoes off the shower walls as he fills me with his cum.
He drops his forehead to my chest, both of us shattered and whole at the same time.
"Don't move. Not yet."
"Like I could move even if I wanted to," I breathe out, pinned and absolutely ruined in all the best ways.
He slides out of me slowly, his eyes turning predatory when he looks down at the mess we've made. "Fuck, look at us," he murmurs, pride dripping from every word.
He sets me down like I'm his favorite toy—precious but made for his pleasure—one hand bruising my hip while the other slides between my thighs. He pushes a finger into my sensitive pussy—because he can,because I'm his to touch now—before withdrawing it and bringing it to my lips.
"Open up, baby," he demands, and fuck if my lips don't part instantly.
The taste of us mixed together floods my tongue, and it's filthy, perfect, and absolutely destroying what's left of my sanity.
His mouth crashes into mine, each slow stroke of his tongue sending sparks dancing beneath my skin.
"See how perfect we taste together?" he whispers, his tongue tracing my bottom lip. "How could that ever be wrong, Firefly?"
It isn't wrong. It's fucking everything.
"What happened to sleeping on it?"
"I hated that idea." His laugh rumbles through me as he steps back, running a hand through his hair, before rinsing himself under the stream.
We wash together, laugh together, completely bare in every sense of the word, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
When I step out and wrap a towel around my body, I catch his reflection in the mirror as he comes up behind me.
"One day at a time?" I ask softly, meeting his eyes in the reflection.
"Yeah, one day at a time, Mills."
He's always steadied my soul, always been my safe place. But now, he's also fire in my veins. And I'm done fighting it. I'm not questioning it—not until the world forces me to.