Chapter 3
Amelia
Ididn’t know the guy who was sitting across the table from me, but he was easy on the eyes.
I mean, if you were into tanned skin stretched over toned muscles, dark hair, green eyes, high cheekbones, and a jaw so sharp it could cut glass.
I was somewhere between King and Pierce counties when I decided to swear off all men for the foreseeable future, even good-looking ones like him.
Of course, his looks put him way out of my league. He gave the air of someone who lived off a trust fund or family money. Driving the fancy car he was in only made me more certain. Plus, he was just so damn good-looking.
“What can I get ya started with?” the waitress asked, forcing me to divert my eyes. I quickly looked down at the menu for a moment.
When I looked up, I found her looking over at him, smiling and batting her lashes. I couldn’t explain it, but jealousy cut through me sharper than any knife ever could. I had to remind myself that he wasn’t mine. I didn’t even know his name for crying out loud, and I had sworn off men.
“I want a cup of coffee.” He leaned back in the booth and stretched his arms over his head, a sliver of his six-pack showing. “You serve breakfast all day here?”
“Sure do,” the waitress said, keeping her pen poised and a smile on her face.
“I’ll take a western omelet with some hot sauce on the side.”
She wrote down his order, and as she shifted on her feet to look over at me, her smile fell. “And for you?”
“Chicken strips, fries, strawberry shake,” I mumbled.
“Sure thing.” She turned and walked away, leaving us alone once again.
“So, what’s your name anyway?” I asked.
He gave me a crooked smile that made my heart jump. “Why do you want to know my name?”
I shrugged and cleared my throat. “What am I supposed to call you? It’s weird to eat dinner with someone you don’t know the name of.”
“You can call me whatever you want.” His smirk only grew.
I tilted my head to the side and lifted my brows, showing him I wasn’t amused. I was so tired of men acting like…well, whatever this was. I was certain his coy attitude and pretty everything got him whatever he wanted, but I wouldn’t be played.
“Oliver,” he finally said, the smirk still in place.
I felt my overly tight muscles begin to relax, like knowing his name didn’t make him a total stranger or something.
“What’s yours?” he asked.
“Amelia,” I told him, my voice soft.
“Of course it is,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leaned forward in the booth, resting his arms on the table. The waitress was back, putting his coffee and my shake between us. She immediately turned and left, and he cupped his coffee between both hands, warming them.
“I’m just not surprised, that’s all.” He shrugged and went to sip the coffee.
“And why’s that?” I picked up the cherry from my shake by the stem.
“It’s just that Amelia is kind of a prissy name, kind of what I’d expect a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes to have.
The kind of girl who can’t drive a stick.
The kind of girl that would try to tease the guy sitting across from her by seductively sucking the whipped cream off the cherry from her shake. ”
When he said that, I bit down on the cherry and jerked it free of the stem in annoyance. His smirk flared again and did something to my insides I didn’t like or want to contemplate. I blamed it on the car accident. Maybe I had hit my head.
“OK, first of all, I’m not trying to seduce you.
Don’t be gross.” I held my chin up. “I’m simply trying to enjoy the one part of my day that hasn’t totally sucked, alright?
And two: maybe we shouldn’t point out the stereotypes attached to names here.
I mean, when I hear the name Oliver, I picture someone who plays chess, pushes his glasses up his nose, and likes to eat all-natural.
You don’t fit that stereotype, so why assume I fit yours? ”
He snorted at my description, but didn’t get to shoot back at me because one of the old men in the restaurant started talking loudly.
“Turn that up,” the old man said.
We both turned toward the counter to see one of the waitresses reaching for the TV’s volume.
“I’m Tony Morello, and I’m live on the scene here in Pierce County after a local property owner reported finding two wrecked vehicles left abandoned on his property.
Both vehicles have significant damage and are likely total losses.
That isn’t the strangest part, though. Both vehicles are without drivers.
Upon closer investigation, it was discovered that both vehicles had been reported as stolen. As of now, police have no leads.”
Oliver looked over at me with a wide grin. “You stole that car?”
I licked the whipped cream from my lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He let out a deep laugh. “Well, Crash… I guess you were right about the stereotypes our names carry because none of the Amelias I know would steal a car.”
“Say it a little louder, why don’t you?” I looked around to make sure nobody was listening. My cheeks heated.
He rolled his green eyes and snorted. “Nobody is paying us any attention.”
“I wish they’d hurry with the food. We need to get out of here.
” I bounced my legs nervously and glanced at the kitchen.
Of course, Alex would report it stolen. Doubt he even remembered he never picked me up, but he was worried about the damn car.
He likely didn’t bother filing a report about me being gone.
“Why?” Oliver asked.
I looked over at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Why? Because our mess is now all over TV. People will be looking for two people on foot. And we just showed up here, minutes before that was broadcast, soaked like we’ve been walking a while. People around here do know how to add two and two.”
He waved his hand through the air. “You worry too much. Don’t look so guilty, and people won’t think you’re guilty. You look cute and sweet. Act that way, and you’d get away with murder if you wanted. Maybe even be a serial killer who leaves bodies out in the field.”
I felt my face warm at his calling me cute. My heart started to race, and the butterflies in my stomach came alive. Then I remembered the little promise I’d made myself, and the bruised and battered bitch inside of me set fire to those damn butterflies and squeezed my heart until it slowed.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, needing to change the subject.
“I don’t know about you, but I plan on eating my food and then going to that motel next door and getting a room for the night.”
I frowned at him. “Are you insane? We can’t stay in the same town where we’re being hunted by the police.”
He snorted and shook his head. “You worry too much. If anyone should be worried, it should be me. Besides, I said I was staying there. I didn’t say anything about you.”
“I’m not the only thief here. Whose car did you steal?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, stone-faced.
“What’s the matter? You can ask me all the questions you want, but I can’t do the same? That’s a little one-sided, don’t you think? Also, I am staying with you. We’re both fugitives.” I gulped on the word, my stomach twisting.
“I’m not being one-sided. I can’t tell you whose car it was because I don’t know. I don’t steal cars to get even with people who piss me off, unlike someone I know. I steal cars to sell. Do you even know how much that car was worth before you came along?”
I could only focus on the jab he took at me. “Screw you. You don’t know me. Don’t even sit there and act as if you do.”
He sipped his coffee with amusement on his stupidly handsome face. “I know enough, and what I don’t know, I’m smart enough to piece together.”
“Really? Why don’t you enlighten me then? Please, tell me who I am.”
The waitress came back with our food. She set our plates before us and walked away, but not before winking at Oliver, who grinned back.
Jerk.
“Fine. You’re a little miss spoiled, probably a total daddy’s girl who’s never been told no in her entire life.
You started dating the popular jock in high school, skipped out on college because you were so in love, then you had your ass handed to you the second you were in the real world.
You moved in with this boyfriend, expecting him to give you the dream life you’d always wanted, only to find out that he was never going to amount to shit.
Still, you’re too hardheaded to admit when you’re wrong, so you stayed with him and put up with all of the shit he brings to your life, only to walk in and find him cheating.
In a fit of rage, you take off in his car, which was probably the only reason he was considered cool in high school to begin with. How’d I do?”
“Way off.” My cheeks heated at his words.
“Yeah, I bet,” he said, sarcastically, reaching for the bottle of hot sauce.
“Seriously. You only got one thing right.” I sat forward.
He didn’t bother looking at me as he said, “Yeah, what’s that?”
“I was a daddy’s girl. I mean, until he passed away last year.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in the booth, my throat tight.
He stopped pouring the hot sauce on his omelette as guilt settled over him. His shoulders fell, and he took a deep breath before looking over at me.
“I’m sorry. I’m just in a shitty mood. That accident back there really fucked me over. I’m starving, tired, and my head is fucking pounding. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s not entirely your fault.”
I didn’t know why, but his words made me feel a little better. I let my arms fall to my sides, and I leaned forward again.
“Look, let’s just stop fighting and eat. Then we can move down the road and find a place to crash for the night. Not next door.”
His green eyes sparkled a little as they narrowed. “You’re really staying with me?”