“Oh, God, I did it again, didn’t I? You probably think I’m the biggest weirdo.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I nod. “Not at all. And I don’t mind.”
Oddly enough, I actually reallylikeit when sheyapstoo much. Ishouldn’t, but I do.
She looks at me, her gaze intense yet searching, as if she’s trying to decipher a hidden code in my expression. I meet her eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just her and me, locked in this strange, unspoken connection. Despite all thisyapping, as she put it, however, it does not detract from the fact that she asked a question; a question that was evidently so out of the blue.
I need answers.
“Amelia?”
“Mm?”
“Why do you think you’re frigid?” My tone is blunt, probing deeper. Instantly, I regret it.
Just drop it, Bradley. Leave. Go home.
“Sorry. I won’t pry. If that’s what you want,” I say, standing to leave before she cuts me off.
“Wait.” She releases a heavy sigh. “I dunno, I just... I feel like…” Her words trail off, leaving a weighty silence between us.
“Like?”
“I dunno, I-I…” She hesitates. “I don’t know how to really act around guys.” Her admission catches me off guard. She seems to be doing just fine talking to me.
“Well, there’s no rule book on how to act,” I reply, trying to keep my voice casual. “Just be yourself. Anyone worth being around will appreciate that.” The words feel strange on my tongue, like they belong to someone else.
“So, why hasn’t a guy ever kissed me?” she blurts out, followedby a nervous laugh. “Forget it. I’m asking you as if you’d have theanswers,” she says softly, almost to herself, shaking her head.
The alcohol must be wearing off slowly, leaving her thoughts clear and raw. She’s never been kissed? The realisation hits me like a ton of bricks.
“You’ve never been kissed?” I repeat, incredulous.
She simply shakes her head, and I’m at a loss for words. This revelation changes everything. How is it possible that someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as her has never been kissed?
It baffles me. It intrigues me. The first thing that comes to mind slips out, “When the right guy comes along, I’m sure he’ll be too captivated by you to even think about waiting.” She nods slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap.
“Yeah. Maybe,” she whispers, almost as if to herself.
The thought of someone else being her first kiss pisses me the fuck off. If anyone is going to kiss her, it’s going to be me. It’s a raw, possessive thought, something I’ve got no right to claim, but it’s there, stubborn as hell. I can’t say it out loud, though.
So, I sit there, my mind racing with these selfish desires I shouldn’t be having.
12
“You know, I swear, the barista totally flirted with me,” Olivia exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Liv and I are nestled in the cosy corner of Tracy’s Coffee Stop, a local joint always buzzing with activity.
I chuckle. “Dude, you think every coffee boy flirts with you. It should be part of their job description by now, I reckon.”
Olivia grins, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, well, it’s true. But this one was really laying it on thick. Didn’t you hear?”
To be honest, I didn’t. My mind has been a whirlwind this morning, babbling to itself—skipping from one worry to the next like a hyperactive squirrel. Saturday had been spent nursing a throbbing headache from the alcohol I consumed, even though I seemed to sober up pretty quickly that night.
Being around Bradley’s presence will do that to ya!
I find myself replaying every moment with him, and all those ‘what ifs’ that I’ve tried to bury come bubbling back up.
What if I hadn’t asked him that awkward question? What if he thinks I’m a complete weirdo now?