2. gray
2
GRAY
A sshe entered the apartment, I leaned against the doorframe, watching as her poised posture crumbled. Not only did she unconsciously draw her shoulders in, but Amelia seemed to transform into an entirely different person the moment she stepped into the hallway.
The realization left a bitter taste in my mouth, triggering a desire to shield her from further disappointments. I wanted to protect her from the pain she was undoubtedly feeling—a novel sensation for me, one that I knew I should suppress. It wasn't my place, nor did it seem wise, to intrude into the life of a woman who had just discovered she had been cheated on.
I knew all too well how that felt—what it did to someone when a relationship ended that way.
Still, I couldn't deny that she deserved better. And the confident voice in my head had already teamed up with the rest of my body in deciding that better was me.
You're such an idiot, Gray. Offering your help was a mistake. How are you going to get out of this? The last thing she needs is…
"Did you change your mind?" Amelia interrupted my internal thoughts, immediately recapturing my attention.
A slight furrow had formed between her eyebrows as if she were unsure whether to trust my offer of help.
"I stand by my word, Amelia," I assured her, with my hands deep in my pockets. "No exceptions."
Yet I had to be cautious because the undertones of our conversation were dangerous. She must have sensed it too; otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Or was it merely wishful thinking that a woman like Amelia…
"Then come on in before?—"
"Before what? Your neighbors find out you've brought home a man in the middle of the night?" I let my gaze wander amusedly over her serious face. When Amelia looked at me that way, she reminded me of Diana from Wonder Woman , having just received some bad news.
She glared at me, her lips never once hinting at a smile. That absence made me slowly doubt her capability to smile at all, which only fueled my determination to coax a genuine one from her.
To appease her, I pushed off from the doorframe and followed her down the hallway into the living room. It should have felt like I was intruding into a couple's private space, but everything I saw bore the unmistakable immature touch of a young man who knew nothing about interior design or how to make someone else happy.
If all this stuff belonged to the idiot Amelia had called her boyfriend up until tonight, I wondered where she was in this relationship. Even after taking a look around, I was convinced this would be a quick move-out.
Amelia returned to the living room with a plastic crate stuffed to the brim with books, heavy enough that she almost toppled over under its weight. Groaning, she set the crate down on the floor next to the door, straightened up, and looked my way. "Could you maybe?—"
"Yes," I muttered with a quiet grunt. Whatever she was about to ask, I would obviously do anyway.
Whenever there was something to be done, I did it. No questions asked, and especially without her having to look at me like she was sorry to have to ask me for anything.
"You don't want to know what it is first?"
With three big strides, I was beside her. "No."
Only then did I bend down, lift the top book with a raised eyebrow, stand up, and turn the cover questioningly toward her. " Kidnapped by the Mountainman? " I read aloud.
Instantly, I witnessed a deep blush spread from her neckline up her throat to her cheeks. Her hand twitched as if she wanted to snatch it from my fingers, but she didn't.
"I enjoy reading, okay?"
"And would you say these books intellectually challenge you?"
She stepped forward, and I caught myself holding my breath instinctively because it also meant she had to tilt her head back to look me in the eyes. And she wanted to. Her gaze was as bold as it had been before.
Dark-brown, nearly black eyes, framed by long, natural lashes. Almond-shaped, and I wasn't sure whether I saw a siren or an innocent doe in them.
"Maybe I've developed a fondness for love stories over the past few months," she finally said, sounding almost breathless, as though she were confessing her naughty thoughts to a priest in a confessional.
That's what made me decide to push a bit further. "Are you sure that's what it's about? Not about the explicit scenes? What happens after the kidnapping?"
"How would you know where the story goes from there?"
No matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't win this debate—if you could even call it that. Because honestly, I had no problem with the existence of these books or with the fact that she obviously devoured them, judging by the sheer number stacked in the crate.
Amused, I let the book drop back into the crate. "Because I know what I would do."
And not a single word to describe that would fall under the categoriesof sweet love story or intellectually challenging .
As we looked at each other, time stood still for a moment. I thought I could hear the crackling of a blazing fire before she broke the spell with a snort. "There are several shelves over there. My clothes, some stuff from the kitchen, and those plants over there, even though they're practically dead already."
I refrained from asking if that was all she owned and followed her into the adjacent bedroom. One wall was entirely taken up by bookshelves. While it indeed held a remarkable collection of steamy romance novels, I also spotted countless classics. Spine after spine, I inspected them—these bookshelves revealed more about Amelia than our conversation in the restaurant and the rest of the apartment combined.
Ever since I had seen her duck under the palm branches at the restaurant, something inside me had awakened so suddenly that I couldn't identify it at first. My decision, made after being stood up by another date, had suddenly wavered when she dropped herself at my table, her head turned toward another man.
At that moment, I hadn't realized that she was already taken, but I was keenly aware that her immediate presence signaled the abrupt end of my comfortable life. It was like lightning striking an ostensibly dead tree, which suddenly burst back to life.
Much too late, I realized I had found myself in a dangerous game, and I was playing with fire.
Amelia was surrounded by an aura that spelled trouble for me. Defiance danced hand in hand with challenge in her eyes, flaunting them right under my nose. Both pushed me to the brink of madness, to the edge of my sanity. And then there was that lethal mix of trust and vulnerability she showed me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
In a world where everyone looked out for themselves and hid behind a stone fa?ade, no matter what, Amelia was different. She didn't even deny the attraction that was brewing between us like a storm on the horizon. Something was in the air, so palpable that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Amelia should have been off-limits for me, yet I found myself walking a tightrope, enticed by her mere presence. For some completely illogical reason, running away was not an option.
For the first time in years, I found myself willing to risk everything just to catch another glimpse into her eyes.
No innocent deer, no. Amelia was like a siren to me, even though she neither intended to be nor knew it.
She appeared next to me, grabbing stacks of books and putting them into another box. It was the sound of the doorbell that made her flinch.
"Oh fuck, if it's him…" she started, suddenly not so composed.
"It's not."
"How do you know?" Her hissing amused me, while at the same time, I worried about her reaction.
"Because it's a friend of mine whom I asked to help. Will you let him in for me?" I took the stack of books from her hands and packed them while she stared at me for a few seconds.
She seemed to do that when she wasn't sure whether to just accept and agree with something I did or whether it was worth discussing with me. So far, she had always opted to let me take control, and this time was no exception. She turned away, accepting and doing exactly what I had told her to do, shaking her head, nevertheless.
A few seconds later, I could hear her getting acquainted with Wilder, oblivious to the fact that I had already sent him on his way to Toronto during our conversation in the restaurant. One might call it foresight or a touch of madness. Either would have been an accurate description.
Despite that, I was relieved to see him as it meant we'd leave this apartment in no more than two hours without Amelia needing to look back even once. Watching their interaction required a bit of neck craning on my part, but it also made Wilder step away from her with a friendly smile, turning his attention to me instead. My glare must have conveyed a clear message.
Puzzled, he let his gaze drift over the books before looking at me as if I had lost my mind. "Is this what first dates look like these days? Or is it just a generational thing? I mean, you could have told me that you?—"
"If you shut up now, I'll owe you one," I grumbled before he could continue and dig himself deeper into my predicament.
Wilder made a gesture that was probably meant to show me he had zipped his lips. That would have been reassuring if I didn't know him so well.
When I spent my first evening in Wolf Creek over a decade ago, he was the one who supplied me with just the right amount of drinks. The rest is history.
"So, what's the plan?"
"A spur-of-the-moment move."
"To where?"
"Home."
"She's moving in with you?!" He asked it so loudly and shockingly that I slammed the book in my hand against his chest.
" No. " Actually, Amelia didn't have the faintest clue that I wanted to sell her on Wolf Creek as the perfect retreat.
"You've lost your mind." I ignored Wilder's murmuring.
Since Amelia slid into the chair opposite me this evening, it’s felt like all rational thought has left my brain.
The last ten years had taught me that the dating world was a complete nightmare, and in my case, it led to an absurdly comical series of dreadful dates and even more questionable missteps.
For some reason, however, Amelia still seemed like a silver lining on the horizon. A true feat—developing an interest in a woman who would be depicted in a comic surrounded by a huge, dark storm cloud. Why did I think I could chase it away with my sunny disposition?
Oh right. That unshakeable optimism that hadn't let me give up after ten years…
"Just do me a favor—pack up her stuff and get it into the car. I'll handle the rest."
"Sure, I see that." As he turned away, he mumbled something about setting up an appointment with a shrink the next morning to check the state of my sanity.
Looking for Amelia, I went back to the living room, only to find that bags had joined the boxes of books, as well as another small box stacked with dozens of colorful mugs, next to wildly patterned metal tins labeled with various loose teas. Right beside that was a box filled with an assortment of baking utensils. The half-dead plants had also disappeared, along with a few other little things, each leaving a visibly empty space behind.
Amelia herself was in the bathroom, hands braced on the sink and head bowed between her shoulders.
"You don't have to act like this isn't affecting you," I observed.
She lifted her gaze to look at me in the mirror. As she rolled her eyes, she exhaled sharply. "It's not even that."
"Do you do that often? Swear and roll your eyes?" I asked, even before looking to see what she was doing.
"Maybe? I don't know." The expression on her face questioned why that even mattered at the moment.
It really didn't. For some reason, I just couldn't bear the thought of her saying phrases like Oh fuck in front of other people when there was only one good reason to use those words.
And she should only roll her captivating eyes under a very specific impulse. Preferably, when I was the one providing it.
I really needed to start getting myself under control.
"Does it bother you?" Why did it sound so innocent coming from her?
"What if I say yes?"
"Then I'll tell you that you can't expect me to do everything you say or refrain from everything you forbid me to do."
We were still looking at each other in the mirror, and once again, several unspoken words hung in the air, almost driving me mad.
"Yet you have obeyed everything I've told you so far, Amelia." Whenever I said her name, I felt an urgent need to somehow make contact with her. Even if she would only let me graze her little finger…
As before, this was the moment when she made sure our conversation took a turn. She turned around, leaning against the sink. "What I actually meant to say earlier is that I feel guilty for not being sad. No remorse. Nothing. I'm indifferent, but it's somewhat of a relief to know that from now on, I don't have to worry about anything concerning him."
I automatically clenched my teeth.
She continued. "About how I could salvage something that's already beyond saving. Or how I could make him show at least some feelings toward me… All of that. I'm just done with it. How could I mourn that?"
Sooner or later, she'd get there, but I wouldn't tell her that. As long as she felt okay and wasn't forced to swim in a lake of bitter tears because of an idiot, I wouldn't push her in that direction.
Yet her words made me step into the tiny bathroom. I kicked the door shut behind me to immediately block out Wilder's curiosity. If I was going to make a fool of myself in front of Amelia, I preferred doing it in private.
"That boy isn't worth your worry, let alone your tears. He may have been someone you loved and were happy with at some point, but he couldn't have sent you a clearer message. You have every right to feel however you want. But if you start crying over this jerk, I might have to find him and…" It was better if I didn't finish that sentence and let on that I was already feeling protective toward her.
Still, she didn't let it slide. "Are you going to kick his ass?"
I grimaced. Normally, I wasn't one for violence. In this case, though, it felt more than right to make an exception. I shrugged it off casually.
"And are you suggesting you'd prefer I cry alone?"
Her question made me grind my teeth. I'd prefer not to see her cry at all. "You know as well as I do that's not what I meant," I replied quietly. "Also, I want to clear up any insinuation that I might be here to bring wetness to your eyes."
Other body parts, however…
Amelia shook her head. "I won't cry over him."
"Good."
"Yes." She turned her back to me, washed her hands, and then faced me again, reaching for the towel that hung somewhere behind me on the wall.
Instead of just drying her hands, she stepped so close to me that I could feel heat coming off her in waves. The water droplets from her fingertips soaked into the fabric of my shirt, and as I absorbed the shift in the small space, I placed my hands on her waist.
Given her size and weight, it would have been easy to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out. But I ignored that temptation—because at some point between the restaurant, the car ride, and arriving at this apartment, I had convinced myself not to make the first move.
It wouldn't have been fair.
Taking advantage of her in her vulnerable state was neither sensible nor was it my intention.
Yet as Amelia slid up my body, the intent clear in her eyes, I could no longer ignore my body's response. It felt like a fully loaded truck was crashing into me, yet it still didn't prepare me for what coursed through me when our lips finally met.
For the second time in her presence, my world seemed to tilt on its axis. Everything faded away, and nothing else seemed to matter.
Her taste hit me full-on, electrifying every nerve in my body. My hand slid from her waist into her dark, long hair. I wrapped it around my fist, angled her head slightly, and deepened the kiss.
Whatever I had felt before… this kiss, the way our tongues met in perfect harmony, made it unmistakably clear that I needed this woman.
It sounded ridiculous—even to my ears. We had only known each other for a few seconds, yet fate had done everything to have us meet in that restaurant. I was convinced of that; otherwise, there wouldn’t be an explanation for this connection between us.
Amelia's touch, even just the lightest touch of her fingers on my hand, sent sparks through my body, making me desperate for more.
There was this attraction… and the shrill ringing of a phone.
At first, I refused to let her go as that kiss felt like a promise of more.
But as she pulled away breathlessly with fire in her eyes, I allowed her to lean back a bit.
Like before, when our eyes met, I felt the desire to show her what true appreciation meant and what it felt like when someone cared enough to protect her.
"You know what wasn't on my bingo card for tonight? You kissing me," I said over the ringing of the phone.
It was in her jacket pocket.
With a hint of stubbornness, she replied, "You kissed me back."
"Which I will certainly not apologize for, Amelia."
She shook her head, freeing herself from my grasp. She raised her hands and then let them drop as if it was pointless anyway. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."
"No," I cautioned her. "Don't feel guilty. Use me, Amelia—however you want. This isn't an offer; it's an order. And if you're going to follow any command from me, choose this one."
Not once in my life had I ever approved of being used by anyone for anything. I had never willingly played the doormat for a woman after her boyfriend cheated on her. Those were usually the kinds of games I steered clear of for so many reasons.
But in Amelia's case, I was ready to take whatever she was willing to give me, even if it was just so she could recover from the man who had hurt her.
I’m not sure where this sudden change was coming from. This woman made me forget everything: principles, rules, more than half a century of life experience, and the worst part was that I knew exactly why. It didn't even seem unexplainable.
"Gray…" Amelia closed her eyes. Did my statement torment her that much? She exhaled heavily before her gaze locked onto mine again.
Her slightly flushed cheeks, her seductive mouth where I could still see the kiss… I would have done it again in a heartbeat, but I was determined to make sure it was reciprocated.
"Is your offer from earlier still on the table? The one you never really put into words."
I nodded slowly, fully aware that I was digging my own grave, and pointed at her phone. "Now, do me a favor and answer it already."
That gave me time to process the last few minutes and persuade my body that this was not going to end with Amelia straddling me, even as good as that sounded.
Amelia finally tore herself away from me as soon as she pressed the phone to her ear. Still, I could hear the female voice on the other end.
"I know I promised you updates, but… yeah, he was there. With a blonde. Right. That means I'm officially single now. No… Manon . Just listen to me for a second."
Silence suddenly prevailed on the other end.
"No, I'm not moving in with you because I've just decided to leave town for a while. I can't stand it here anymore, and before I do anything else, I'd like to get my life back in… order. Gray has offered?—"
At that moment, I saw the realization on her face, and it hit me too. She had made a mistake.
"Who the hell is Gray?" The other woman's voice suddenly became shrill.
"If you calm down… yes, welcome to the middle of my sentence, M. If you relax, I'll tell you everything."
As Amelia clearly squirmed under the crossfire of her—presumably—best friend, I reached for her phone and pressed it against my ear.
"I'm Gray."
Silence.
More silence.
Meanwhile, Amelia looked at me with wide eyes.
"Nice to meet you, Manon. If you're worried that Amelia might become the victim of a serial killer, I can assure you that I don’t even kill bugs."
"You can claim a lot. Why don't you turn on the camera, show me your face and your ID, and wait until I've spoken with my friend before you take her somewhere? And while we're at it—where are you taking her? I want the exact location."
Amelia had heard every word, of course, so she grabbed her phone again and turned on the video function. She positioned herself so that she was standing with her back to my chest.
Manon's face was zoomed in on the screen as she stared up from the display, mostly at me , if I read her slightly parted lips correctly.
"Why didn't you tell me you know guys who need a license for their looks, A?"
A nervous sound escaped Amelia. "Do you realize that Gray can hear you?"
"Yes. And I don't care. I'm still waiting for his ID."
Since she clearly meant what she said, I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and flashed my ID in front of the camera.
"You're nearly six and a half feet tall? Oh my god. Where do you know him from?"
With every second, it became harder to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me.
"From the restaurant," replied Amelia sheepishly.
I heard Manon inhale sharply. "That's the last thing I expected from you. You confirm that the idiot is cheating on you, and the next second, you're laughing over this forbidden hot specimen of a man? God, I'm so proud of you, A. You deserve it. So, whatever you're planning with him, I indeed have a few ideas. Okay, Gray, you can put your ID away. Is the age on your ID correct?"
"Yes."
"And the address?"
"That too."
Manon tapped on her laptop. "Nice little town. Let’s see what comes up if I search your name… ooooh. Nice . No. Damn, that's brilliant."
This time, Amelia gave me a questioning look, and I could only return it because I had no clue what her best friend had just discovered about me online.
"So, now that I have a photo of your ID and know you personally, there’s only one thing to say: Have fun, Amelia. But if you don't check in at least every three days, I'll send a special ops team your way. Until then, enjoy your time… with Gray. I'm sure he'll help you forget?—"
We didn’t hear the end of her sentence because Amelia ended the call early. As soon as the screen went dark, I let my restraint drop and laughed.
Female attention was nothing new to me. But I had never before experienced someone talking about me so openly in my presence. And to genuinely rejoice for the woman accompanying me.
"I must admit, I like your friend," I said.
"And you've convinced her faster than any guy before. She still can't stand my ex."
That meant we had a few things in common. Or three. Disliking her ex. Wanting the best for Amelia. And that we both rather liked her.
In disbelief, she shook her head. "I can't believe this is really happening. Manon is?—"
"A good friend," I said, finishing her sentence, which apparently was Wilder's cue to knock on the door from outside.
"No idea what you guys are up to in there, but the move is about to finish without you if you don't come out now."
Amelia nodded toward the door. "Then Wilder must be a good friend too."
"A damn good one," I heard him respond from outside before I flung the door open, instinctively positioning myself between him and Amelia.
"I might agree with you if you weren't so interested in things that don’t concern you." Perhaps it was just an occupational hazard. I couldn't be sure.
Still, I was glad he was there. At that very moment, his presence provided a buffer I desperately needed. I had to push the kiss away, at least for a while, to keep myself from slamming the door shut so we could pick up where we had left off.
"It's best if we distribute everything…" I announced the plan I had concocted on the fly so Amelia could finally put this apartment behind her.
And she no longer had time to reconsider.
She wanted to follow my unreasonable offer to move to Wolf Creek?
It seemed the universe had finally sided with me for once, at least in a twisted way, ready to give me what I wanted. Or needed, considering I was on the verge of madness over this woman.