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I wasn’t prepared for the way she snuggled against my side and fit so perfectly against my body, not to mention the words that came from Amelia's mouth. How was I supposed to stick to my resolutions when everything she said challenged me?
Just then, she kicked the door open with a foot, balancing three boxes in her arms. She entered and let them fall to the floor with a thud before straightening up with a strained sigh.
When she looked at me, I could tell she was trying to read the expression on my face.
"Are you worried?" Her question caught me off guard following the conversation we had had earlier—before we returned to her car.
"Only for you, sweetheart." The term of endearment had slipped out before I could bite my tongue.
Sweetheart. I had never used a word that revealed that level of affection for a woman I had known less than a day. I wanted to slam my hand against the nearest wall—or, better yet, my forehead because something was obviously short-circuiting inside.
Was this when I would start making a fool of myself in front of Amelia?
"As you can see, I'm managing. No broken bones." Yet there was a strange expression on her face. "While my heart may be a bit broken, this place will fix it in no time, just like duct tape. So… you don't need to worry about that either."
Worry. If you asked me, duct tape was hardly a solution for what had happened to her. However, I was all too familiar with the urge to patch things up temporarily. It took me a while to realize that it wasn't a solution but just another problem.
Even in that way, damaged hearts needed to heal. That took time. And possibly someone to stand by her side.
"But I didn't bring you here to just brush off how you are feeling." A simple, honest statement. "Ever since I've met you, I haven't seen your lips even slightly curve into a smile. So that is my first goal during your stay here."
She pursed her lips. But not into the smile I longed to see. "That makes no sense."
"Nothing about you makes sense, Amelia," I retorted. "But my observation does."
Defeated, she raised her hands, shaking her head. "There's something wrong with you."
I nodded in agreement, slightly amused. "Where do I even start?"
It was just a murmur, yet she understood every word. Once again, it was Amelia who chose to stay silent. We kept tossing the ball back and forth, and whenever things got tough, we seemed to drop it.
"Unpack the rest of your stuff. There's a small get-together tonight."
"What if I'd rather rot in my bed?" Her gaze drifted up to the platform where her bed lay.
I shrugged. "Then I'd tell you that you don't have a choice. I want you there, even if you look like you don’t want to be. Or maybe because of that. I'm not quite sure yet."
Amused, I watched as she jutted her chin forward. It was clear that she disagreed with my decision. Still, I wasn’t going to let her wallow in self-pity in this secluded cabin.
Something flashed in her eyes, yet her body language was distinctly different.
"Don't act like you suddenly can't stand me. The way you're staring at me says something entirely different."
"Oh, and what would that be, Gray?"
Without hesitation, I stepped closer to her, expecting her to step back. Yet again, she surprised me—a challenge in everything she did.
"For starters, that you want to kiss me."
Another step toward her. This time, she stepped back, and I followed her until her back hit the support beam.
"I do not."
"Oh really?" I teased her. "Then why do your eyes keep wandering down?"
"No."
She didn't respond to my question, but her intense gaze remained unchanged.
