17. Amelia

Amelia (Labyrinth by Taylor Swift)

The house is empty by the time we make our way inside. Everett and I carry the groceries to the kitchen and unpack in silence. By the time we’re done, we both head upstairs to our separate rooms—also without saying anything to each other. We haven’t spoken since we left Olive dining.

The moment I shut my door, I heave a long sigh.

What now, is he avoiding me? After...

I mean, I know he probably said those things just to keep Rachel away like the other girls... but... I just can’t wrap my head around it.

Gosh, I need a bath.

I enter the bathroom and take a warm shower. After I’m done, I apply my skincare and wear a black camisole and wine satin bum short.

I hop into bed but then... I toss and turn, rolling from one side to the other.

Shit, I can’t take it anymore.

Resolutely, I get off the bed and head out.

Everett’s door opens before my fingers even touch the handle, and bare chest comes into view.

He’s fresh out of the shower, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. A towel is slung low around his waist. His hair is damp and slightly messy, and he smells faintly of soap and the cologne I’ve somehow started associating with him.

I slowly lift my gaze.

He’s already looking at me.

“I was just about to come to you.” He breaks the silence after a while.

I nod silently.

He moves to the side and I enter his room and turn to face him as he closes the door.

The moment he turns, “why did you do that?” I ask quietly.

He stares at me so intently, “You really thought I’d go on that date?”

I shrug. “I told you to.”

“You did.”

“So, why…”

“You.”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest. Huh?

He takes a step forward, “you happened, Amelia.”

This is the first time he’s addressing me by my first name and it’s so... intimate. Gosh, I don’t think anyone has ever called my name like this before... with so much intentionality.

My eyes remain focused on him as he takes another step forward.

“Amelia Hart.” His voice drops. “Do you still not see it?”

My eyelids waver.

“Or are you just choosing not to?”

My lips part. Wha...

He takes another step and this time, he’s completely closed the space between us.

“I like you, Amelia. I really fucking like you.” His jaw tightens. “And I'm tired of pretending this is still just some deal between us.” He cups my cheek with his hand.

My heart stutters.

“So don't push me toward someone else again. Don't tell me to go on dates with other women when I'm standing here wanting you.”

I hiccup.

His thumb brushes my cheek.

“So, Amelia Hart...”

I swallow.

“Want to know the third rule of our arrangement?”

My brows pull together.

He leans closer.

“Be my girlfriend.”

My breath catches.

“For real.”

I stare into his eyes as they searches mine for a response.

This was supposed to be a deal. A one-week deal. There isn't supposed to be an us. But somehow, standing here with Everett, I’m certain I want an us.

I nod. “Okay.”

And that’s all the confirmation he needs.

He takes my mouth in his. Possessively.

This time, it’s real—no lecture hall full of people watching, no pretending, no deal... Just me. And the captain of the men’s volleyball team. Kissing passionately.

His hand settles at my waist as I lean into him, my fingers sliding into his damp hair. Fuck, it’s so sleek.

The kiss deepens, slowly at first, almost careful—as if he's giving me one last chance to change my mind, but I don't. I kiss him back with the same intensity.

God. My knees buckle and only his firm hands are keeping me up.

A moan escapes me as he breaks away for a moment.

“You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do this with you, Amelia Hart.”

And then his soft moist lips capture mine again—hot, hungry, and screaming finally—and the world tilts. Our tongues dance moistly, sliding and tangling in a slow, wet heat that steals the air from my lungs, his low groan vibrating against my mouth as he pulls me impossibly closer. He kisses me like he's starving, like he's been waiting forever, like I’m oxygen and he’s been underwater for years. And I cling to him, drowning in the taste of him, the heat of him, until we finally tear apart—gasping, chests heaving, his arms locked around me as his warm, intoxicating scent wraps around me like a vow.

Our chests heave against each other as we catch our breaths but Everett doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he hugs me warmly, his cedarwood scent embracing all of me.

This is real. This is real...

“So,” I clear my croaky voice, “we’re together for real now? Like real couples?”

He leans backwards and peeks at me. “Yes, baby.”

Gosh! Everett Griffin, the captain of the men’s volleyball team—and me!

Together. For real. My cheeks heat up and I bury my face in his chest.

He chuckles, the rumble of his voice vibrating against my cheek.

I smile into his chest.

My boyfriend. Everett Griffin is my boyfriend.

Crazy.

A week.

That was all this was supposed to be.

One stupid annoying deal. And then another.

And somehow, somewhere between all the bickering, the volleyball practices, and pretending not to care about each other…

I’d fallen for him without knowing it.

And now, somehow, Everett Griffin is mine.

For real.