Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Slouching back in her seat at her desk, Jo brought her coffee cup closer, bypassing the sandwich she’d made this morning and kept covered until now.
It was time for lunch, time to rest her brain and her eyes for the next hour, and then she could get on with the afternoon while impatiently waiting to end her shift.
She hadn’t slept much at all last night—not after her afternoon with Amelia—but she hadn’t felt so conflicted about it all as today had worn on.
Jo couldn’t do anything about how she felt, neither could Amelia, but they could move on from it and pretend no kind of conversation had happened.
As she sipped her coffee and eyed her phone, Jo lifted a brow. A new message had come in. Amelia had texted her while she was collecting her lunch.
Did you still want to get dinner at some point or is it better if we don’t?
Jo chewed her lip and rocked back in her seat. She would love nothing more than to have dinner with Amelia, but the suggestion had been thrown out there before they’d spoken yesterday. In fact, Jo had suggested dinner before they’d bumped into one another at the club.
Undecided. What do you think?
She glared at the screen. A little voice inside her whispered that it wasn’t fair to dismiss Amelia all of a sudden, but Jo was still fantasising about someone she hadn’t even seen in the light, and she needed to visit Lia again soon.
On the flip side, she had to question whether it was wise to spend the evening enjoying a candlelit dinner with Amelia.
Oh, you know you want to.
Jo did want to, but she was worried that the more time they spent together, the more likely it would be that Jo would start to pull away.
And that wasn’t fair to Amelia. They’d flirted a little on Saturday, that had continued yesterday, and then it had all been over the moment they’d agreed it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with one another.
Her phone buzzed.
I think that we can manage. I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult between us after yesterday. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.
Jo smiled faintly. Amelia had nothing to apologise for. If Jo wasn’t such a coward, she would have told Amelia just how attracted she was to her long ago. She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly as she typed her reply.
You’re right. We both agreed to not let it come between us. When were you thinking?
She sat back and watched the ellipses appear and disappear again. This weekend was fully booked for her, but midweek was a good option if Amelia was available. Jo could work around her.
This weekend?
Jo winced. Of course. The one weekend she couldn’t do.
Now, did she tell Amelia she would be at Satin, hoping to spend a few hours with Lia, or would that be better kept under wraps after their talk yesterday? While nothing had occurred, Jo didn’t believe discussing her sex life with Amelia was wise anymore.
This weekend isn’t ideal for me. I have a photography job on Saturday morning and early afternoon.
Hopefully, that would be enough.
Okay, but what about Friday or Saturday evening?
Jo groaned and took another sip of her lukewarm coffee. Perhaps it was easier to just be upfront.
I was hoping to drop by Satin on either of those nights. I’m just not sure which night yet.
Her finger hovered over the send button for a moment. She didn’t want to hurt Amelia, but she didn’t want to lie either. With a breath, she hit send.
The read receipt popped up almost instantly. Amelia was already typing.
Jo didn’t know why she was holding her breath, but she was. For some reason, what Amelia thought of her mattered more than she cared to admit.
I see. Say no more. Enjoy your weekend and I’ll see you when I see you.
Shit.
Jo closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the chair, sighing. That came off cold. Dismissive. And maybe Amelia had every right to be, but Jo hated that she’d disappointed her. She hated it even more that Amelia could think she didn’t want to spend time with her.
Jo bit her lip, her fingers already moving across the screen.
Wait. That sounded terrible. I do want to have dinner with you, I really do, but I’m worried if I don’t go back to the club, I’ll miss my chance to spend time with Lia again.
There. That was the truth, laid bare. And it sounded…awful. She winced at her own message, waiting for Amelia to reply.
Please. You don’t have to explain. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?
It was polite. It was reasonable. And it didn’t sound like Amelia at all. Not the Amelia who smiled with her eyes. Not the Amelia who touched her arm when they spoke, or who laughed too easily when Jo was around.
Jo dropped her phone face-down on the desk and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Why was she obsessing about a woman in a room at a club when she could be spending time with Amelia?
She knew exactly why. Because if she wasn’t obsessing over Lia, she would be obsessing over Amelia.
And that just wasn’t an option. Amelia had already made it clear yesterday over coffee that whatever this was between them, it couldn’t happen.
Jo was Callum’s ex-girlfriend. Amelia was his mother.
And no matter how electrifying the flirting between them felt…
Amelia wasn’t ready to risk anything more.
Jo lifted her phone again and swallowed.
I’m sorry.
Sorry for choosing Lia over Amelia. Sorry for finding Amelia so irresistible in the first place. Sorry for letting herself fall into this tangled mess of forbidden attraction.
Amelia’s reply came moments later.
Me too.
Jo stared at her phone until her vision blurred and the screen dimmed.
She tapped it to bring it back to life, as if the words may have changed or offered some kind of direction.
But they hadn’t. They were just two small words filled with everything and nothing.
A quiet agreement that hurt more than it soothed.
She set the phone down again and reached for her sandwich. She wasn’t hungry anymore. She hadn’t been since yesterday, if she was being honest. Not since the moment Amelia had sat beside her, those warm brown eyes flickering with something that looked so much like regret.
Jo dragged a hand through her hair, frustrated at herself for letting this spiral.
She’d known that Amelia was off-limits. From the moment she’d caught herself watching her at family gatherings, admiring the graceful way she moved, or how her voice dipped into something soft and low when she was being kind.
Back then, Jo had chalked it up to admiration.
Appreciation. But it hadn’t been that. Not even close.
She turned back to her screen, pretending to focus on work, but all she could see was Amelia.
Laughing with a glass of wine in her hand or helping Jo to fix a crooked frame on her wall in the days of her moving into her new place, or sitting beside her at the edge of the couch with her fingers far too close to Jo’s own.
She wanted her. She wanted more.
And that was the problem.
Part of her wished it was possible. She wished she could rewind the clock and be someone Amelia could be with without guilt and without family history shadowing everything.
If Callum wasn’t her ex. If Amelia wasn’t his mother.
If they’d met in another lifetime, then yes…
she would have wished for a different outcome.
Jo exhaled slowly, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. It was madness. All of it. She had somehow found herself tangled up in a faceless woman in the dark, chasing something electric and anonymous, while trying to fight her feelings for Amelia, too.
God, it was a mess.
And it was a mess Jo wasn’t sure she could handle.
The wine was already open by the time Ada had arrived, her lipstick slightly smudged and a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d stepped inside, kicking off her boots and throwing her bag to the stairs, then dropped down onto Jo’s couch with a dramatic sigh.
Jo, curled up at the other end of the couch in her oversized hoodie and leggings, handed her a glass without a word.
“God, I needed this.” Ada groaned and took a sip. “Busy week. What’s your excuse?”
Jo tried to smile, but she just couldn’t do it.
If she couldn’t be honest with her best friend or try to figure everything out in her head, then she had no hope of ending the ridiculous thoughts running through her mind.
She tucked her legs under herself and glanced down at her wine. “Emotional whiplash.”
Ada leaned back and grinned. “Ah. Lia?”
“No. Not Lia.” Jo shook her head. “God, it would be so simple if it was Lia.”
Ada frowned. “Amelia?”
Jo blew out a breath. She had no idea what direction this conversation was about to head in, but she had to tell Ada. She needed someone to talk through it all with her. “Yeah. Amelia.” Jo didn’t dare look up. She couldn’t. God only knew the look on Ada’s face right now.
“O-oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. That was the reaction I expected…I think.”
“Okay. So…are we talking ‘Amelia is really supportive and gorgeous, and I have a harmless crush’ kind of thing, or…?”
“We’re talking…” Jo set her glass down and ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t stop thinking about her. And I don’t think it’s harmless anymore.”
“Wow.” Ada blinked, her wine glass paused halfway to her lips. “And we’re still talking about the Amelia I think we’re talking about? As in Callum’s mum Amelia?”
“Yep. Still the same Amelia.” God, every time Jo said her name or allowed herself a moment to think about Amelia, her heart ached. “It’s a mess, right?”
Ada set her glass aside. “Okay, first of all, I cannot believe you’ve kept this from me.
This isn’t a new development, no way. But secondly…
I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re thinking.
I mean, she is ridiculously attractive. And classy.
And kind of sexy in that terrifying older-woman-who-knows-everything way. ”