Still, he helps me anyway, and when we stand back up, he hands me two of my notebooks and my pen. I take another look at him, admiring the ink on his neck that disappears beneath his shirt. Boldly, he reaches up and grabs my chin so I'm forced to look in his eyes.
"Are you all right?"
I nod. "Yeah, sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."
He chuckles, and I can see the hint of a tongue ring in his mouth. "Clearly neither was I."
The two of us stand there for a somewhat awkward moment before I decide to stop being such a chicken. I stick out my hand and introduce myself.
"I'm Amelia."
He takes it willingly. "Amelia," he repeats. "That's pretty. I like it."
I can't help but smile. "Thanks. And you are?"
A charming grin spreads across his face, and while it might not compare to Zayn's, he's definitely got my attention.
"Blade."
No matter what I do, I can't seem to remove visions of the other night from my mind. The way she looked, all fucking gorgeous and begging for me, it took everything in me to turn her down—and from the second I did, I regretted it.
Never in a million years did I expect her to show up here. And even more so, I never expected to hear what came out of her mouth. She's always been the shy kind. The kind who doesn't like to rock the boat and runs from confrontation. But that night, her confidence was mesmerizing.
It's no secret that Amelia is in a league of her own. She should be out finding someone a hell of a lot better than me, and I don't mean Mason Lockhart. That guy is the biggest douchebag on campus. Then again, the thought of her with anyone has me feeling things I really shouldn't admit to.
When I can't take it anymore, I crash down onto my bed and take out my phone, dialing the number I've had memorized since I was seven.
"What's up, asshole?" Knox answers.
I can hear the buzzing of tattoo guns in the background.
"Are you at work?" I ask. "I can call back later."
He chuckles. "Don't be stupid. I can multitask."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. And besides, I'm just tattooing this chick. If I mess up, it doesn't matter."
Delaney's voice shrieks in the background, and I laugh. She was never the type for tattoos, but after Knox gave her the first one—a pair of angel wings on her collar bone—she's been obsessed. Thankfully, Knox only lets her get ones that mean something, and only in certain places. He says he doesn't want to ruin the soft look she has going for her.
The same soft look Amelia has when she's not undressing in my living room.
"Everything good, man?" he questions. "You sound off."
"I don't know," I sigh.
There's a momentary pause, and then I hear the tattoo gun click off. "You fucked Amelia, didn't you?"
Choking on air, I have to catch my breath before answering. "No. Well, not exactly."
"Z!"
"What?" I huff. "It was just a one-time thing. I swear."
He sighs into the phone. "And does Easton know about this one-time thing?"
"Am I still alive?"
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
God, I can only imagine what Easton would do if he found out. For starters, he would probably castrate me, blend it into a smoothie, and make me drink it. And that's the nicest thing I can think of. Growing up, it was always the two of them. And despite how much he used to pick on her, he's always been super protective.
In middle school, she tried to have a boyfriend. It was this little nerd named Charles. He didn't even go by Charlie or something cooler sounding. Nope, Charles. Well, when Easton found out about Charles, he literally scared the piss out of him. The poor kid went home with urine stains in his pants and never looked at Amelia again. Granted, all Easton said was to stay away from his sister, but Charles pissed himself before a word even came out of Easton's mouth.
I, however, am his best friend. The rules and expectations are different, and so are the consequences. There's no doubt in my mind that he would cause physical harm.
"So, if it was just a one-time thing, what's the problem?" Knox's voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I shrug, even though he can't see me. "She wishes it wasn't."
He hums. "And so do you."
Groaning, I press my head back into the pillow. "I've been turning her down, but fuck, man, it's getting really difficult. The other night, she showed up while E was out, took her shirt off, and straight up asked me if I was going to fuck her."
Knox barks out an obnoxiously loud laugh. "Who knew little Amelia was so damn ballsy?"
"Right?" I agree. "What the hell happened to the girl who would stutter when spoken to?"
"She grew up and started wanting to screw shitheads."
"Clearly."
The image of her standing against the front door in her bra, with her jeans unzipped and hot pink underwear visible, sticks in the forefront of my mind. It won't fucking go away, no matter how many things I try to distract myself with. I can't even walk down my stairs without thinking about it. She's just so damn perfect.
"So, what happened?" he questions.
I exhale slowly as the memory squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. "I told her I can't. She basically told me she was going to find someone else, grabbed her shirt, and left. I haven't seen or talked to her since."
Whistling, I can already picture him cringing at the retelling of events. "That's rough."
"You're telling me. But I can't be with her. You said it yourself—Easton would kill me."
He snorts. "Since when have you been afraid of Easton Donovan?"
"Since he damn near got himself and Tessa killed when he decided to do drugs."
The tone of my voice is practically dead, but so was that whole time of our lives. Hell, when Knox found out his future sister-in-law overdosed on Easton's stash, he damn near went after him. Tessa Callahan may scare the shit out of us, but during that time, I'd never seen her more vulnerable.
"Okay, granted," he replies. "But you said yourself he seems to be getting close to that Kennedy girl. Maybe he's not as fragile as you think."
"And if he is?"
"Delaney will plant pretty flowers on your grave."
Soon after the words leave his mouth, he hisses and mumbles an ouch. I can just barely hear Laney in the background tell him that it serves him right. I love that girl.
"In all seriousness, though," he continues. "Just talk to her. She probably thinks you're not interested, and that's definitely not the case."
Fuck. "All right. I've got to go."
"Text me and let me know what happens."
I chuckle and roll my eyes as I grab my keys. "You've turned into such a chick. Should we video and do face masks, too?"
He snickers. "Fuck off."
I JUMP OUT OF my car and rush to the door, thankful when a student comes walking out and holds it open for me. Taking the stairs two at a time, I can't seem to make it up there fast enough. I don't know what this will mean for us, or if an us is even possible, but I'm anxious to talk to her. She needs to know that whatever this is, it's not one-sided.