Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
The morning light gently seeps through the windows, casting a glow onto the kitchen countertop where I’m preparing a cup of tea. As I pour the steaming water over the tea bag, I can’t help but pause. The warmth of the cup in my hands mingles with the memories of yesterday.
The way the sunrise had burst through the horizon, splashing the world in hues of gold, was so vivid, so alive, and the dim light through the windows seemed to echo that moment. It’s as if every sunrise from now on will hold that wild beauty.
And Misha’s smile.
I grimace as I turn and take a step toward the living room. It appears my legs echo the memory as well.
“How are you this morning, Amelia?” Jamie asks.
“Sore, Jamie. Very sore.” I groan as I walk to the couch and lower myself in slow motion. Every muscle aches. It was fun, exhilarating even, but clearly, my regular treadmill sessions aren’t adequate preparation for even a mild hike.
Who knew walking up a hill could be so exhausting?
I don’t think I ever felt like that after a hike with August. Which reminds me, I need to check my emails.
Maybe I should try and call him.
“It seems like muscle soreness after exercise is quite normal, especially if the activity level is higher than usual. It should pass in a few days,” Jamie offers, the concern in his tone almost making me laugh.
“Thanks, I hope it does. I’ve got plans with Grey later, and at this rate, I’ll be waddling like a penguin.”
“You might consider a warm bath and perhaps some stretching,” Jamie suggests.
“Maybe.”
After setting the mug on the coffee table, I lean back and let a smile spread over my face.
The stars, the predawn chill, Misha’s laughter echoing around us.
“You’re amazing. You’re someone I want to be like when I grow up.”
It was perfect.
That is until exhaustion hit me like a brick.
After coming home, all I managed to do was take the quickest shower ever and collapse into bed, napping away the remainder of the day. By evening, I wasn’t up for much besides a movie marathon.
Stretching my arms over my head, I try to ease the tension in my lower back—when considering that, in combination with the cramps I’ve had since last night, it’s a sure sign that my period is gearing up to make its grand entrance.
Just what I need to accompany the soreness today.
Despite feeling like crap, I refuse to cancel. I will make it to that walk, even if I have to crawl.
“Jamie, please remind me to check my supplies later. I might need to order some pain relievers and… other necessities,” I request as I massage one of my thighs over my pajama bottoms.
“Of course. Would you like me to add anything specific to your shopping list?”
I don’t have to think twice about one thing. “Strawberry ice cream, please.”
“In September, Amelia? That’s quite unseasonal,” Jamie responds, his tone slightly apprehensive.
Sure, make a girl feel bad for her cravings.
“Strawberry ice cream is the only thing I crave when I’m on my period. It’s medicinal, really.”
“Understood. I’ll add it to your shopping list,” Jamie quips, indulging me.
I’m ready to text Grey to ask what time he wants to leave when my phone chimes with a new message.
But it’s not from Grey. It’s Misha.
Misha
Good morning, how are you? Sore?
Is he psychic?
Morning! Are you spying on me or something? How did you know?
Just a hunch!
Yesterday was quite the trek.
So, sore? :)
You could say that. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.
Ouch!
Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m feeling amazing.
I can’t help but laugh. Idiot.
Never heard of misery loves company, huh?
I wait with my phone in my hand, but there is no answer.
Can I double-text him?
Pathetic?
Probably.
But I already miss him.
How’s your morning going?
Trying to decide if coffee will make me a better person today.
It’s worth a shot. Coffee is magic.
Agreed. Let me know if you need anything, okay?
I can bring you some if you want.
Part of me wants to tell him to come over. But right now, I’m far from presentable—looking and feeling as though I’ve just crawled out of a wreckage. Besides, I still don’t know how much time I have before I need to head out.
With a hint of reluctance, I type my reply.
Will do. Thanks, Misha.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Jamie, do you know what time Grey usually goes for his walks on the weekend?”
“His schedule isn’t consistent enough for me to give you an estimate. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I’m just going to—” I get cut short by the chime of my phone in my hand. Expecting to see another message from Misha, I’m surprised when I see a new notification—from Grey.
Grey
I’ll pick you up in an hour.
They’re both psychic, it seems.
A mix of nerves and excitement flutters in my stomach. I smile to myself and can’t stop smiling, even when I can barely shuffle to my bedroom to get ready.
“Good boy,” I murmur as Peanut and I stand in front of Amelia’s apartment, fretting with the loop of the leash handle, well-worn from many walks.
Peanut pants beside me, nerves making his sides heave more than usual.
He’s as nervous as I am.
I had debated picking up Amelia first so we could get Peanut together, but he’s shy around strangers. He might’ve just hidden away, too anxious to leave the house for a walk.
“This is going to be fine,” I assure him.
“I’ll explain that you’re a little scaredy-cat, and I bet she’ll be nice about it.
Amelia is very nice.” Peanut cocks his head, looking up at me with doubtful eyes.
“Look, I would not take her with us if I thought she wouldn’t be cool.
So be cool, too, okay? Just be cool about it. ”
And please don’t embarrass me.
Taking a deep breath, I decide against ringing the doorbell, opting for a gentle knock instead. After a moment, the door swings open, and Amelia stands there with the biggest smile, making something in my chest tighten.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey, Princess,” slips out before I can think better of it.
She blushes, her eyes darting away from mine, only to comically widen when she notices Peanut beside me. “This is Peanut?” she asks, amusement clear in her voice.
I look down at the bundle of thick, bushy brown fur that comes up to my waist. He’s more a real-life teddy bear than a dog. “Didn’t I tell you he’s a Newfoundland?” I ask, racking my brain for whether I’d mentioned it before.
She laughs, a sound that eases some of the tension in my shoulders. “No, you definitely did not. I was expecting a chihuahua or something small with a name like Peanut.”
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s a long story.
” Her answering laugh makes me smile, but I quickly add, “Are you scared of big dogs? I promise he’s gentle as can be.
Heart as big as his body. He’s more scared of y—” I cut short as she crouches to greet him properly, grimacing, reminding me that she’s aching.
When Misha and I saw how she was hobbling around earlier, I thought about canceling for her sake, but damn, I didn’t want to.
I feel like a prick for spending even more alone time with Oliver’s girl while he’s in Portland, helping Morgan pack and bring her stuff over.
But I can’t seem to feel too guilty while Amelia is right in front of me.
It’s just a Sunday walk with a friend.
A very beautiful friend.
“Scared of this pretty boy? Are you kidding me?” Amelia holds her hand up in front of her for him to sniff, but she’s not pushing it in his face like most people would.
Letting him come to her.
Just like she did with us.
“Hey, Peanut, I’m Amelia. It’s so nice to meet you.” I’m about to tell her that he’ll not interact with her when Peanut sniffs cautiously. Leaning forward, he licks her hand, making her giggle. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”
What the…
His tail starts to wag aggressively at her cooing. Then, he bounds forward, knocking her over with his enthusiasm.
Fuck.
My heart leaps into my throat, panic seizing me for a split second until her laughter rings out, loud and clear. “Oh my God, your breath stinks,” she exclaims, pushing at Peanut as he lavishes her face with sloppy kisses.
Stammering an apology, I give the leash slack in favor of grabbing Peanut’s collar to pull him back, though my heart still races with a mix of fear and relief. “I-I’m so sorry, he never does that. I didn’t expect—”
She sits up, still chuckling, and wipes her face with the sleeve of her sweater before grabbing Peanut’s head to rub him behind his ears. “Don’t worry, we’re just both a little excited, aren’t we?” she coos some more, using a baby voice on him.
Baby voicing a hundred-fifty-pound dog that just bowled her over.
Why is that so hot?
Peanut’s tail wags so enthusiastically that it starts a small breeze.
“He doesn’t like people,” I murmur, more to myself than to her, my voice tinged with astonishment.
What is even happening?
Amelia looks up at me, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’m not big on most people either.”
“Is that supposed to be a broad hint?” I quip, extending my hand to help her up.
As she rises, she steps in close—too close—and I feel her warm and slightly uneven breath against my neck. A shiver cascades down my spine, unexpected and electric.
“No, you suck less than most people,” she teases with a playful smile, her voice a soft, breathy whisper.
Her eyes, a striking shade of blue, hold mine, and I’m lost in their depth. Peanut nudges his head between us, his gentle intrusion breaking the intensity of the moment. Reluctantly, I step back.
“I feel honored. Come on, let’s go.”
She locks the door, then we approach the elevator. I can’t help but notice how she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a small wince briefly crossing her features. She’s clearly trying to mask her discomfort.
Pressing the elevator button, I steal another glance at her, concerned. “You sure you’re up for this?” The elevator dings, and we step inside, the doors closing behind us with a gentle swoosh.