7. amelia
7
AMELIA
I t must have been Wilder who had slapped the guitar into Gray's hands and made him play. One foot propped on the log in front of him so he could balance the instrument on his thigh while he bent slightly forward to tune the strings.
Right next to him, the fire crackled, casting playful shadows across his face. Although he was clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention, it didn’t alter his confident expression.
So far, I had only seen Gray truly upset once—the first moment we met, when I had blurted out that my ex-boyfriend had cheated on me. Other than that, Gray seemed to lack any truly negative emotions. Meanwhile, no matter how much our conversations entertained me, I hadn't managed a single smile. Of course, he had seized the first opportunity to point this out, which now made me painfully aware that I simply wasn't able to laugh yet.
A few isolated notes rose above the background noise, but they weren't coming from the guitar. Gray was humming softly to himself as he continued to wrestle with the instrument.
Across the fire, I looked over at Wilder, who now had a beer bottle in his hand. His gaze also rested on me before we both shifted our eyes back to Gray and then to each other. With a nod of my chin, I signaled him to come over.
When he finally stood beside me, we both turned back to the fire. He handed me the bottle, and I took a sip before giving it back to him.
"Gray is a good person."
"I didn't miss that." The thought of hurting him did more than just make my stomach queasy. Quite the opposite—it made me feel downright sick.
"No idea how you two ended up finding each other…"
"Does it really matter?"
As Gray started performing some classics in the background, I wondered why Wilder was so keen on bringing us closer one moment and then acted as if he was the one who needed to protect Gray the next.
"You're young. You could decide to go back to Toronto in the next five minutes, just like you decided to leave the city." He spoke softly. Was he afraid Gray would overhear his little sermon?
This time, I looked at Wilder. "And you think this is a game for me? That I came here to play house for a while and then disappear as soon as I feel better about myself?"
"How old are you, Amelia?"
"Twenty-five. And not interested in doing what you might suspect. We could have gone to a hotel last night, and I could have disappeared in the morning. Instead, I'm here trying to do the right thing."
"And what do you think the right thing is?"
I pursed my lips. As uncomfortable as this conversation was, I wasn't going to shy away from it and give him the impression that he was right.
My gaze met Gray's, but it was Wilder to whom I responded. "I can't remember ever wanting someone the way I want him in my life. And that scares me because it's only been twenty-four hours. What if it goes wrong? What if we disappoint each other?"
"What if it stays this way?" He put the bottle to his lips and gave me a sideways glance. Not the question I had expected. Once again.
The answer to that, though, was so clear to me that it caused chills.
Then I'll never go back to Toronto.
"Are you actually for us or against us, Wilder?"
He shrugged. "It's a toss-up, I guess. Ask me again in a week."
Before he walked away, I snatched the bottle from him. If he was going to leave me with all these conflicting thoughts, he might as well leave me some liquid courage.
After he had disappeared from my line of sight, I withdrew to the edge, ensuring enough people were between the fire and myself so that I could sit down on the outermost log of the circle and close my eyes for a moment.
Manon pushed me in one direction, and Wilder pulled in another.
In the end, there was only one thing left to do: what felt right for me .
And it all depended on Gray. On how he responded to me and what I threw his way.
I wasn't alone for long. But this time, it was the devil from my thoughts who joined me. Silently, he sat down beside me, leaning his hands on the tree trunk. In the background, guitar music could still be heard, so I assumed someone else had taken over.
"What did he say to you?" He said it so calmly, I almost didn't realize he was talking to me.
"Is that why you're here?"
"I'm here to make sure he hasn't overstepped his boundaries. It's nice that he cares. But what happens in my life is not his decision to make."
Before I answered him, I also leaned back, bracing myself. My little finger brushed against his. A small spark shot up my arm, but I refused to change my position just like he did.
"We just talked about what's coming up. That the barbecues happen weekly and he thinks it's a nice distraction from everyday life at the bar. He invited me there, by the way." For some reason, I lied, not because I had anything to hide from Gray. It wasn't about protecting his friendship with Wilder either. There was something else. Something I couldn't name yet, and with all these possibilities hanging in the air, I didn't want to be the one who pushed things in one direction or another.
Gray muttered something I couldn't understand. "He's only here because it's more exciting than the latest Spanish soap opera, watching us both."
"As if there's anything to see," I scoffed.
Aside from the fact that I had undressed Gray with my eyes a hundred times—and he had done the same to me.
"Should we give him something to see?"
Was this the moment he threw caution to the wind?
"Are you angling for more rumors?" Calling it rumors after I'd nearly convinced Sergeant Williams that I was in a relationship with Gray was frankly an understatement.
"If I start them, at least they'll have some truth to them."
I clicked my tongue. "And what if I prefer not to be watched for the rest of the night?"
His little finger brushed against mine. He seemed to ponder for a moment before he turned his head toward me and stretched out his other hand.
"Will you dance with me?"