Page 61 of Branded Hearts

“I’m not sure if I should,” I confess, uncertainty lacing my voice. “What if he doesn’t want to talk?”

“Amelia, if he kissed you—twice—clearly, he feels something. Maybe he’s just figuring things out,” she suggests gently.

“Maybe he’s feeling guilty because I’m Liv’s best friend.” I sigh heavily, my thoughts racing with guilt and uncertainty. We’ve both done something sneaky, and now it’s weighing on me. “I mean, shit. This is bad.”

Jamie frowns. “Why would it be bad? You just kissed him. If anything, he initiated it first, right?”

“Yeah, but I kissed him back.”

“Well, I’d bloody hope so,” Jamie scoffs, laughing. “Sure, keeping it under wraps might raise eyebrows for some, but what happened between you two isn’t wrong! You’re a grown woman, Amelia.”

She takes a breath before continuing, “This is your life, your experience. No one should stand in your way, not even your best friend.”

True. Ugh, she’s right. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling like a shitty person. Still, Jamie is right. I am a grown woman with needs and desires. I want to experience things, to live my life.

The bell rings, signalling the end of recess. Any minute now, the kids will come barreling back into the classroom. Jamie stands up, stretching.

“Well, that’s my cue. Time to face the sass again.”

“Good luck,” I say with a smile. She grins, giving me a quick hug.

“You, too. And remember, you’ve got us to support you. Whatever happens.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” I say, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. “I needed tohear that.”

“Anytime,” she replies, heading to the door.

I nod, trying to internalise her words. Maybe I just need to let go and see where this goes. Even if it scares me, even if it feels wrong, I can’t deny what I want.

And right now, I want Bradley.

It’s a quiet afternoon, and I’m lost in the world of oil paints in my apartment. After a long day at work, this is my sanctuary. I’m working on my latest collection of portraits, currently painting Millie blowing bubbles, her face lit up with the biggest smile.

I flick my eyes to the small photo beside the canvas, the one Kat took of Millie. Capturing that joy in paint is both a challenge and a thrill. I internally pat myself on the back for the progress I’ve made so far. The features are coming together nicely, though getting everything realistic and proportional is tricky.

Painting is my escape, but it isn’t always easy. Each brushstroke requires precision, patience, and a lot of love. I pride myself on my ability to paint realism, a skill I’ve honed over the years.

Placing my brush in the cup of water beside me, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the portrait. I quickly send it to my sister with a smile. The sense of accomplishment fills me as I look at Millie’s joyful face on the canvas.

As I think about whom to paint next, Bradley’s face pops into my mind. He has such striking features—from his sculpted jaw to his full lips, the stubble that frames his face, and those piercing blue eyes.

My goodness, I’m getting all flustered just thinking about it!

But how would I do that?

It’s not like I have a photo of him. Not that I need one. I could probably draw him from memory. I mean, I’ve had ten years to admire him from afar, so he’s practically ingrained in the back of my head. I giggle to myself, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Could I really paint Bradley? The thought is both thrilling and terrifying, but it might be worth a try.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally capture those dreamy blue eyes on canvas.

19

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper

Music fills the large lounge room, pillows are scattered everywhere, creating a cosy, laid-back vibe. Isla sent out an SOS text the other night, begging for some girl time away from Xavier because, as she put it, he’s been just a little too much lately. Not in a bad way, but still, too much. So, naturally, we rallied for an emergency gathering in our girls’ group chat:The Real Housewives of Wattle Creek.

Imogen came up with the name and insisted we stick with it, even though Isla’s the only one who technically qualifies as a housewife.

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