Chapter 28 #2
I shrug. There’s a lot that I’ve learned about Amber, and people-pleasing isn’t her top priority but perfection seems to be something she strives for, so this question is and isn’t surprising. I answer, “She wants to see me happy.”
Amber sighs dramatically. “And what does that mean exactly?”
I lean back. “You’re going to do fine.”
“No,” she says, leaning forward to look at my face. “There are so many kinds of girlfriends out there, so pick your type.”
I stare at the ceiling and consider what that entails. I guess she’s not wrong.
Amber says, “Do I need to sit in your lap, pet your hair, keep my hands on you? Or do I need to stay in my own chair and nod respectfully at everything she says?”
I chuckle. “You’re thinking way too much about this.”
She reaches for my cheek with the bandage, and I’m thrown off by her touch. Her palm is sweaty as her face twitches. She went from nervous to strained. “Do you see how uncomfortable this is?”
I grab her hand as she pulls away, not caring about the sweat. It’s actually cute to know I have her this worked up and overthinking about meeting my mom.
“What kind of girlfriend are you, Amber?” I ask, playing with her fingers.
“I think you would be the type to only touch me if you mean it. No public PDA. You would save that for when we’re in private, and even then, you would still not fully give yourself easily.
I think you would let me hold your hand in public.
And only if you were in love could I kiss you with my tongue in front of anyone.
I don’t see you sitting on my lap, especially in front of my mom and her husband.
If you want to sell it, we keep eye contact.
” I reach for her chin. “You sell it with your eyes and body language.” I don’t touch her lips, but I hover my thumb above them.
“We don’t even have to kiss if you can sell it with your body language.
So, to answer your question, just pretend to be into me. ”
She grabs the hand I have on her face and says, “And what about my personality? I’m type A, and some people hate that.”
“I like it,” I say, shrugging.
“Yeah, but I do have to put on an act for your mom. Do I have to pretend to…I don’t know?”
I shake my head. “You really want her approval?”
Amber nods. “That’s why I’m here, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, sighing. I pinch my eyes closed, frustrated with the first thought that comes to my mind. But she’s asking me, so I have to say it. I exhale. “Be a bitch.”
“What?”
I nod, regretting that I have to say this.
“Be a bitch. Hold yourself high. She has changed since the divorce, and lately, she only cares about materialistic things. She doesn’t come to my games.
She couldn’t care less about hockey. Hell, I’m surprised I’m even invited to this elopement.
Sometimes I hear my mom in her voice, but her priorities have changed since I’ve been out of the house.
She’s had a few years of freedom and turned into someone I barely recognize.
So, if you really want her approval to sell it, or whatever, just be a bitch. ”
Amber looks deflated. “Do you want me to be a bitch?”
Good question.
“If you’re timid and scared of her, she’ll eat you for lunch. If she says anything off the walls, I’m not backing you up. It’s her big day today, so whatever she says goes.”
“And that’s the kind of boyfriend you would be?” she asks, astounded.
“On her wedding day, yes,” I say, annoyed that I have to admit this shit out loud. “Any other day, no.”
“So, I should expect to be put down?” she asks.
I shrug, not wanting to work her up. “You’re going to be a lawyer, right?”
Amber’s cold gaze bores into me.
I smirk. “I don’t bring girls home, Amby. So, yeah, she might make some comments. She might not. I don’t know what mood she’ll be in.”
“She should be in a good mood, and you’re just trying to scare me.”
“Is it working?” I ask.
She shoves me. “If you’re lying to me, I promise that by the end of the night, you will not be sleeping in this bed.”
I look into her brown eyes and smirk. I always love a challenge. I say, “Why do you think I asked you to be here this weekend out of everyone I know?”
“Please,” she rolls her eyes, huffing. “Michelle should be here, not me.”
“My mom wouldn’t approve, and I would never hear the end of it.”
“Yeah, but at least she’s your type.”
“Who says you’re not my type?”
She shrugs. “Says the mirror.”
“That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”
“In trouble with who?” she snarks.
“With me,” I bounce back.
“And you think I’m scared of you? Hmm?”
I stand from the bed and ask for her hand.
“What?” she asks, confused.
I ask for her hand again. I pull her arm over my shoulder, walking her to the tall mirror on the wall. I don’t release her as I pull out my phone.
“Definitely not.” She attempts to run away, but I pull her into me, hugging her from the side.
I look into the phone’s camera and whisper in her hair. “We look good together.”
“We barely do,” she confesses, looking into the phone.
I snap a few pics and then change the pose. I have my left arm around her neck. She’s looking up at my screen as I take a few pics.
Then I flip the camera so we can see our faces. Amber shakes her head and tries to walk away. I sit her on the bed and sit next to her.
I say, “We look good together.”
She shakes her head. “You would look cute with someone with blue eyes like yours, blonde hair, and bubbly to laugh at all your dumb jokes.”
“You’re explaining my ex, and she’s in the past for a reason.”
“I should find someone to hook you up with,” she says.
“Or,” I say. “You can focus on being my girlfriend for the weekend and not worry about me. Let’s take a picture.”
She gets out of the frame, so I look at her. “Please.”
She rests her head on my shoulder, looking annoyed but cute as hell. I take a picture, and then I lean my head on hers. “We don’t look so bad, Amby.”
“Will you stop calling me that?” she says, pushing my shoulder, and I let her.
I fall on the bed and wonder what she’s going to do next.
She has the I’m going to hurt you look on her face, and it’s refreshing that all this flirting isn’t getting to her.
“Amby,” she mocks in disgust. “I hate it…” she grabs the pillow out from under my head.
“So.” She hits me with the pillow. “Much!” She hits my legs again.
I catch the pillow with my knees and then her eyes meet mine.
They widen as she tries to tug the pillow back but I have a death hold on it.
And then she releases the pillow and runs away.
I’m quick on my feet, chasing after her.
She screams as she runs into the bathroom and tries to shut the door.
I throw the pillow to stop the door from closing.
She kicks the pillow frantically, yelling, “This is your pillow tonight. Freaking disgusting!”
I grab the door and say, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I don’t want to have a pillow fight,” she says, trying to close the door.
I pick up the pillow and lick my teeth. I glance at the bathtub and then slowly look at her. “You started it.”
I step into the bathroom and the force she’s using against the door shuts us in. I’m amused by that slam as I notice the tiny amount of room we have to play.
“Don’t you dare,” she shouts, holding her arm out to block her face.
“Did you just dare me to?” I joke, lifting the pillow.
She quickly jumps into the bathtub as I hit her ass with it.
She yelps, grabs the shower head, and says while pointing it at me, “I’m going to spray you.”
“You’re going to spray me?” I ask, not believing it.
She turns the water on and then points the showerhead in the tub as she diverts the water. Once the showerhead starts spitting out water, I laugh.
I hit her with the pillow, and she sprays me. It’s freezing, so I use the pillow for a shield and say, “Okay. Okay. Okay!”
I flip my wet hair out of my face as I tease, “You want a war, Amber Hughes?”
Her face scrunches as I charge for her. She’s aiming the showerhead right at my face as I enter the tub and grab her. Fuck the water. I’m taking her down.
When I lift her, she screams.
“The curtain rod! You’re too tall!”
I drop to my knees as she sprays my face. She’s sitting below me as I put my head down to stop the water from getting in my eyes, trying to steal it from her. Once I have the hose in my hand, I finally take it and spray her back.
She’s shielding her face and screaming.
“I give up! I give up!” she’s squealing.
I point the water the other way.
“Do I win this one?” I ask, looking down at her wet clothes. I feel bad now that she’s all wet.
“Yes!” she scoffs, fixing her hair. “I have wet clothes, and we’re supposed to be meeting your mom soon.”
“Shower?” I offer while ripping off the wet bandage on my face. She glances at the cut. It hurts, so I probably should take medicine soon.
“And the elopement is tonight. You got me all wet.”
I reach over to the faucet, turn off the showerhead, and turn off the water. I pull my annoying wet shirt over my head.
“I didn’t bring enough clothes for this,” I confess, standing over her. I put my wet shirt over the curtain rod.
She’s staring at me when I look down at her.
“What?” I ask because of the look on her face.