Chapter Seventeen #4
“Oh? Should I be worried?” Imogen asked, leaning into her touch. Though nothing in Amy’s look or tone said she should be.
“I hope not,” Amy said with a grin, leaning up to kiss Imogen’s cheek. “Had to.”
“Not complaining.”
“Ugh. Are you two going to drink some champagne or do you want to get a room?” Bridget said with glaring impatience.
Imogen knew which one she would prefer, but she would settle for the drink for now. Bridget was Amy’s friend, therefore hers by extension. She’d been brought up with manners.
Luckily, Bridget didn’t stay long. Once they’d toasted the new movie and finished their bubbles, Imogen and Amy slipped upstairs together.
She really owed her friends for letting her get away with all these early finishes.
When Amy was gone, Imogen would work all the lates to repay the favour.
Besides, she would need to keep busy to keep her mind off missing Amy. Distance was going to suck.
“So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Imogen asked as soon as they collapsed onto her sofa wrapped up in each other’s arms. And legs. They tended to use every limb they could. The more touching the better.
Amy hesitated. “It was more what I wanted to ask you.”
“You look nervous about this,” Imogen said.
“I am a little.” Amy paused and quirked her mouth to the side. “Okay. I’ll just say it. I had a call with Helen and Veronica today.”
“Okay…” Imogen dragged out the word. “Is everything alright?”
“You see that’s the thing, Im. Everything is so much more than alright. Everything is perfect.”
Imogen tilted her head in question.
“With you,” Amy clarified. “Us.”
“Oh.” Imogen started to smile. “I totally agree there. But what has that got to do with Helen and Veronica?”
Amy traced her fingers up and down Imogen’s arm. “Well, you know how I have to leave?”
Like Imogen could forget. Her heart sank to her boots every time she thought about it. “Not my favourite topic, but unfortunately, I do.”
Amy pouted and nodded. “Well, what if when I’m done with the movie, I come back here?”
Amy needn’t have even asked first. Obviously Imogen thought it was a brilliant idea.
“I’d love that, Amy. Of course I want you to visit.
You know I’ll be dying to see you. Like dying.
” Though she did plan to see Amy long before the film wrapped.
Maybe in America. Get a taste of where Amy lived.
They had discussed Tokyo as well. Hell, Imogen would go anywhere.
There was no way she could go six months without laying eyes on the woman she loved.
“Me too. But what I mean is, what if I come back here and stay here?” Amy met her gaze, like she was silently willing Imogen to catch her meaning.
Imogen forced her brain to keep up. Was Amy saying what Imogen thought she was saying? “Stay here as in live here? For good?”
“Yes. Exactly that. I’ll still have to go away for work of course. Probably a lot, fair warning. But what if, when I’m not working, I’m here?”
Imogen could only stare. Her heart was racing. Was this real? This woman, this amazing woman, really loved her enough to move across the globe?
“I could always rent somewhere nearby if you’d prefer. I wouldn’t want to assume you’d want—”
“You better start assuming,” Imogen interjected, reaching up to hold Amy’s shoulders like she needed Amy to feel how serious she was, to see it in her eyes.
“Yes, yes, yes. A gazillion times yes. There is nothing I want more than for you to stay here with me forever. Don’t you already know that?
In fact, don’t wait. Move in right now.”
Amy beamed at her. God, she loved that smile. “Yeah?”
“Of course yeah!” Had Amy really thought Imogen would say no?
“Who needs a fancy hotel anyway? That is, if you don’t mind living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment above a pub?
” After all, Amy was a fucking Hollywood superstar.
She was used to the fancy hotels. Penthouses.
Mansions. Limousines. A far cry from Imogen’s one bedroom flat and her ten-year-old silver Corsa.
Amy looked at her affectionately. “Imogen, I love our tiny one-bedroom apartment above the pub. And I love you. So much.”
“Our tiny apartment—I love the sound of that!” Imogen practically launched herself at Amy, who squeezed her tight in return—thank God Amy’s ribs were practically healed now. “And I love you too.” Those words never got old. Hearing them. Saying them. Meaning them with all of her being.
Imogen pulled back and immediately caught Amy’s lips in a searing kiss. One that left no doubt about how she felt about sharing their lives together. Their home.
It was kinda surreal when Imogen thought about it. To think that in another life, Imogen would have stayed in Belfast. In the same lonely flat. Doing the same boring job. Her biggest decision in life would be working out which takeaway to order from for dinner.
But instead, because she’d taken a chance—or a few—there she was. In her cosy little home in Ballyluck. She had her pub. She had her friends. And now she had Amy. Her Hollywood happy ending.
Maybe celebrities weren’t so bad after all.