By the time she sits up in bed, I’m feeling guilty about Ambrose. I can only hope he didn’t feel as ignored as he was.
Amelia doesn’t say much as she sits up. We get dressed in silence, and she murmurs that she’s going to freshen up again. I wonder if she’s okay, or if I went too far with the dirty talk, but when she comes out of the bathroom, she’s all smiles, hair perfect, the dress falling in soft folds over her body.
“I should probably go,” she says.
“Are you sure?” I force out, feeling even more guilty that she’s come all this way and isn’t even staying the night.
Get a grip, Lucas. She’s an escort, not your girlfriend.
“Would it be okay to call me a cab? I don’t want to trouble Melvin so late.”
I shake my head. “Melvin does what I tell him, and you’re not getting a cab home alone. He’ll take you to your door.”
She gives me an odd look but nods.
We go back downstairs to find Ambrose waiting for us, also ready to leave. He gives Amelia a wide smile, but there’s something in his expression I can’t read.
He comes forward, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Bellissima,” he murmurs. “You are alright?”
She nods. “Yes. Were you… I hope you are, too.”
He brushes a hand over her cheek, and I want to shove it away. “I had a wonderful evening,” he says, glancing up at me warily and stepping back.
Clearly, I’m not good at hiding my inner emotions because he retreats another step and frowns at me as he gets his coat.
“I should be going also. A pleasure, as always, Luca. Thank you for indulging me.”
We walk to the elevator and wait as I press the button.
“Do you want me to go down with you?” I ask Amelia, and Ambrose waves me off.
“I will ensure she gets into the car safely.”
“Message me when you’re home,” I say, before I can bite the words back. Amelia nods and goes into the elevator. I watch the doors close on them, my body thrumming with the urge to jump inside and stop them from spending time alone together.
What’s he going to say to her?
As I listen to the whir of the elevator descending to the ground floor, my anger begins to bubble over.
I turn, walking toward the room at the far end of the hall. Stripping off my shirt, I walk into the gym I had installed when I moved in.
Still barefoot, I walk to the punching bag, not bothering to change out of my jeans, and begin to jab at the thing. I’m hitting it so hard I feel like my fist is going to smash straight through it.
I spend almost an hour fighting it until I eventually stop and shower, beyond exhausted.
I check my phone, noting the text from Amelia letting me know she’s back safely. As soon as I read it, I climb into bed, and pass out into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 21
Amelia
Afew nights later, I take Annabelle’s advice and meet up with Hope. She’s a nurse, and our working hours have never been compatible.
It’s been too long since we’ve had any meaningful time together, and when she texts to let me know Bethany is coming along too, I look forward to the evening even more.
When I arrive at the bar, it’s a crush of people and I weave my way through the tables, waving happily as I see Hope sitting by the wall with Bethany.
They both stand up to hug me as I approach, and I laugh as I see the drink Hope has ordered for me. It’s a cocktail in a skull-shaped glass, with dry ice spilling over the top.
