Page 20 of Pucked On Camera

Chapter 11

Amelia

Sunlight filtering through the blinds wakes me, and I open my eyes to tangled sheets. I close them, enjoying the feeling of being in Riley's arms. His chest rises and falls steadily against my back, and his breath tickles my neck. This comforting feeling is nice, until reality hits me.

I really think that he knows. There's no mistaking the look of someone piecing together a puzzle. My secret online life—the one I've guarded so fiercely—it's on the verge of being uncovered.

Despite the gnawing anxiety, there's still that sense of safety that Riley shows. It's been there since our first encounter, aprotectiveness that brings a calmness. He's never pushed too hard or stepped out of line—not really.

I let out a slow breath. Trusting him feels risky, but the potential payoff... it could be everything.

"Morning," Riley murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Hey," I reply, my tone lighter than I feel. I roll over and face him to see genuine warmth in his sleepy smile. His blue eyes search mine, and I wonder how much truth he’s already seen.

"Sleep well?" he asks, thumb brushing a rogue strand of hair from my forehead.

"Like a log," I lie smoothly, my own fingers tracing the defined planes of his jawline. I want to hold onto the lightness for a little longer, to bask in the ignorance-is-bliss phase before reality interrupts.

"Good," he says, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "You looked... peaceful."

"Thanks to you, maybe." I let the words hang between us, a playful challenge, an invitation to read between the lines.

"Princess..." His gaze lingers on mine, and I see the unspoken question there. He's close, so close to guessing, to uncovering the truth I've hidden behind layers of sarcasm and nonchalance.

"Let's grab some food first," I suggest, sliding out of bed. As I move away, I throw a glance over my shoulder, a sly smirk on my lips. "Maybe afterward, I'll give you a tour of the parts of me you haven't discovered yet."

His laughter follows me out of the room, a sound that warms my heart.

***

The morning melts into the afternoon. Riley lounges on the couch, one arm slung over the back, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. "So, this is what an off-day looks like for Amelia Brooks?" he teases with a grin.

"Thrilling, isn't it?" I quip, flipping through channels without really watching. The weight of my secret presses against my chest. We've been doing this dance of casual conversation and lingering looks, but the more we skirt around the secret I’m holding, the heavier the weight feels.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. His blue eyes hold concern, and I nod, plastering on a small smile.

"Perfect," I lie, pushing down the urge to blurt out everything right then and there. Because the truth is, as much as I want to reveal my OnlyFans alter ego to him, fear keeps my mouth shut. Fear of judgment, of rejection. Nonetheless, somewhere deepinside, I know that holding back might cost me more than just honesty—it might cost me us.

"Come here," he says, patting the cushion next to him. I obey, settling in against him. He smells like fresh soap and something woodsy, a scent that's becoming all too familiar in a way that tugs at my heartstrings.

"Riley..." I start, the words catching in my throat. Before I can finish, the oven timer dings, offering a reprieve. Saved by the bell—or in this case, the promise of homemade lasagna.

We make our way to the kitchen bar, filling our plates with steaming layers of pasta and cheese. Conversation flows easily as we eat, and it feels natural. As the meal ends and we settle into a comfortable silence, nursing glasses of red wine, the elephant in the room grows larger.

"Your place has character," Riley remarks, swirling his glass. His gaze drifts past me, fixating on something behind my back. The studio door. My stomach tightens as I follow his line of sight.

"Thanks," I say, voice barely above a whisper. The room seems to shrink, the walls closing in with each glance he sneaks at the door.

"Is there a reason why that door is closed when you keep all other doors open, even your closest doors?" he asks, the question hanging in the air like a dare.

"Everyone has their secrets, don't they?" I deflect, offering a wry smile. There's a truth in my joke. How long can I keep him wondering? How long until the questions become too pointed?

"Guess so," he replies, taking a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving mine.

I draw a deep breath, knowing I'm on borrowed time. I should tell him, let him in completely. I imagine the relief of no longer hiding, coupled with the terror of being seen. It's a dangerous game I'm playing, one where the stakes are getting higher with every second I choose silence.

"Princess?" Riley's voice pulls me back from the edge of my thoughts.

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