22. Judd
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
judd
“So, what’s the plan of attack for the day, Shortcake?” I ask Amelia as we walk out of Hazel’s hand in hand and head down the sidewalk. It’s rare we get a nice day with no rain in November, so we took full advantage of it by walking this morning.
She sighs. “I really should work on my book. But I’m just not feeling it today.”
“Still stuck? Did talking to Lucy not help?”
“No, it did. It gave me some great ideas about where to go in the story. I’m just not ready to dive in yet.” She gives me a sheepish smile. “I have a tendency to hyper focus when I’m writing. Charlie had to come over for signs of life one time because I was so sucked into my writing, I accidentally let my phone die and they didn’t hear from me for like two days. Now I have to text them when I’m ‘going in’ so they know I’m not dead, just writing. I also keep a charger in my office now too, so they can check in and make sure I’ve eaten.”
“Add me to that list.”
“What list?” she asks, giving me a quizzical look.
“The list of people who check in on you. Add me to it,” I tell her, bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing the back of her knuckles.
Amelia shakes her head and laughs. “There’s really not a list. It’s just Charlie and Hazel. They’re really all I have.”
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and pull her to me, her hands landing on my chest. She looks up at me with a grin as I cup her cheek. “And now you have me. I’m in this Amelia, however slow you need to take it. Whatever title you want to put on it. I’m telling you now and I’ll keep telling you for as long as you let me. You’re one of the most incredible women I have ever met in my life, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ll spend forever trying to be the man you deserve.” A tear slips down her cheek and I brush it away with my thumb. “So please add me to your list,” I tell her softly.
It scares me how gone I am for this girl. How, even though I haven’t known her long, I want to give her everything she’s ever wanted. I finally get it. What Kessler was feeling when he fell for Lucy. The connection. The need to protect her from everything bad in the world. But when I look into her sparkling blue eyes, the feeling I’m not ready to label yet pushes that fear away.
I’m not sure who moves first, but our lips find each other and there’s a desperation in her kiss that hasn’t been there before. We stand there in the middle of the sidewalk making silent promises with our lips that our voices aren’t ready to say when we feel Bruno’s head sneak in between our bodies, followed by a muffled ‘woof’.
Amelia pulls back with a laugh, reaching down to scratch Bruno’s head. “Sorry, bud. Are you feeling left out?”
Another woof.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say, reaching down and giving him a scratch too. Straightening, I clasp Amelia’s hand in mine, and we continue our walk back to our building. “Anyway, back to our topic of what to do today. What do you like to do when you have a free day and don’t want to write?”
Amelia gives me a sideways glance and bites the inside of her cheek. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
I make an ‘X’ over my heart. “Cross my heart,” I tell her, then give her hand a squeeze. “You can tell me anything, Mills.”
“I like to snuggle up in my reading clothes, sit in my reading chair with my fluffiest blanket, get a tray of snacks and drinks all set up beside me and read. All day.”
I clutch my chest. “A girl after my own heart.”
She looks up at me, shock all over her face. “You, you’re not going to make fun of me? Or tell me that’s a waste of a day? Or tell me I shouldn’t want to read after spending all my time writing?”
What?
“No? Why would I make fun of something you obviously enjoy doing? Anyone who has made fun of you for that is a twat and doesn’t deserve you.”
“You’re too good to be true, you know that?”
I’ve never let anyone besides my family see this side of me. Never wanted anyone else to see this side of me. People see me as the hot shot playboy. Cocky and confident. But that’s my public persona. The real me loves nothing more than spending time with my family and close friends, staying in and reading, normal things that I lost sight of when I played for my old team. “No, Mills. I’m just a regular guy.”
We’re about a block from our building when I see two guys walking in the opposite direction of us. The one in a Silverbacks baseball hat looks up and makes eye contact with me. Eyes widening, he nudges his friend, who looks up from his phone, his face replicating his friend.
Shit.
They know I’ve seen them and they’ve clearly spotted us, so there’s no way to avoid them. It’s not that I want to avoid my fans. I’m grateful for them, but this doesn’t help prove my point to Amelia that I’m a regular person. We make it another couple of feet before they veer over to us.
“Hey, you’re Judd Davis,” the baseball hat guy says.
I chuckle. “I am.”
He holds out his hand. “I’m Jake, this is my buddy, Craig. Do you think we could get a picture?”
I release Amelia’s hand to give Jake and Craig a handshake. “Sure,” I say, giving Amelia an apologetic smile. Amelia moves to get out of the way, but I quickly wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. “You don’t mind if my girlfriend is in it too, do you?”
Amelia starts to protest, but the guys quickly agree. Jake asks someone passing by if they could take our picture and hands them his phone. We pose and the woman takes several pictures of the four of us.
She hands back the phone and they quickly look through them as she walks off.
“Thank you. These are great. Our buddies would have never believed us. Have a great day!” they both say, giving us a wave before continuing down the sidewalk.
Amelia bumps her shoulder into mine as we resume our walk. “Just a regular guy, huh?”
I bump her back. “Most of the time. The public gets a different side of me. My friends and family get the real me.”
She hums, nodding her head. “I totally get that. My readers know I have a service dog for my anxiety, but they don’t know the extent of it. I give them the version of myself I wish I could be all the time. Not the actual person I am behind closed doors.”
We enter the lobby, and Marty greets us with a wave. We both wave back as we pass the front desk and head towards the elevators.
Hitting the call button, I turn to Amelia. “You know they would still follow you and support you, right?”
Nodding, Amelia sighs. “I know. Charlie and Hazel have said as much. It’s just… I’m not always the bright, happy person they get. My readers bring me a lot of joy, them loving my stories brings me joy. But my anxiety and depression don’t always allow room for that joy, and I don’t want it to come off as ungrateful.”
We step into the elevator, and I hit the button for her floor, then wrap her in my arms. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Mills. But your readers could be going through similar things and showing them that you struggle too could be therapeutic for not only them, but you as well.”
Amelia nods into my chest saying a muffled, “You’re right.”
“Tell you what. When you get into your apartment. Go get your reading clothes on, grab your fluffy blanket and whatever else you may need. Text me a list of all the snacks you want. I’ll run to the store while you’re gathering your things, and I’ll meet you back here.”
Amelia’s head flies up, excited eyes meeting mine. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Wait. Why do I need to gather my stuff? We can just read at my place.”
“No offense, babe. But my library and reading space is kinda hard to beat.”
She snorts and pushes back from my chest when the elevator gets to her floor. “I’ll be the judge of that, babe, ” she says, as she backs out of the elevator with Bruno. Giving me a wink before she turns around and heads to her apartment.
Fuck, I love this girl.