Perhaps Lia was a safe choice in terms of conversation. Jo didn’t have to wonder if it was Amelia, not right now. No, she would do that later when she was alone, and she could freak out about it all without her best friend witnessing it.Later, she could question fantasy and reality.Later, she could try to figure out the woman she touched in the dark and the woman she alreadyknew in the light. Now wasn’t the right time. “Fine. Get another bottle from the kitchen.”
Chapter Eight
Awarethat she hadn’t actually been invited over to Amelia’s, Jo took a hesitant step towards the front door, her stomach knotted in a mess of nerves and second guesses. The late-afternoon sun warmed her face where she stood on the garden path, but inside, a storm was brewing. She only hoped it wasn’t showing on her face.
Her conversation with Ada the night before hadn’t helped to clear the fog in her mind. It had only stirred up wild thoughts that Jo knew better than to entertain. Jo wanted to believe Ada was just clutching at straws with her wild theory that Amelia and Lia might somehow be the same person. It was impossible.Absurd. Jo had known Amelia for nearly four years. She knew her laugh, her mannerisms, the way her voice changed when she said something tender. No amount of darkness in a room could disguise those things.
She lifted a hand and pressed the doorbell, her pulse quickening ever so slightly. As she waited, she bounced subtly on the balls of her feet, trying to dispel some of the tension residing in her chest. She didn’t make a habit of showing up here unannounced—Amelia wasn’t the kind of woman you imposed on—but after their unexpected meeting at Satin on Saturday, Jocouldn’t keep away. She needed to see her face. She needed to look into those deep, thoughtful eyes and reassure herself that Amelia wasn’t pulling away.
The door swung open faster than she expected, making Jo flinch. “H-hi.”
“Jo.” Amelia’s voice was low, her brows knitting as she instinctively pulled her silk robe tighter around her body. Her gaze flicked past Jo’s shoulder as she scanned the street. “I…is everything okay?”
Jo caught the flustered energy instantly. Her stomach sank. Had she interrupted something? “Sorry, yes. I was just in the area, and I thought I’d drop by.” The lie left her lips easily, despite the guilt that followed. She’d parked a few streets away on purpose and had even chosen running clothes to make the lie more convincing. “If you’re busy, I can just head home.”
Amelia hesitated as she visibly swallowed. “No, it’s okay. I’m just not really decent at the minute.”
“No problem. I’ll see you soon, okay? Just give me a call if you still want to get dinner at some point. Or just our usual coffee if you’re feeling up to it.” Jo smiled and turned away. She didn’t know what she was more embarrassed about—Amelia answering the door in a robe, or the fact she’d concocted an excuse to come over in the first place.
“Jo, wait!”
She stopped at the garden gate and turned, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Yeah?”
“Come in. I’ll just run upstairs and change. You can put the kettle on.” Amelia opened the door wider and offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I’m sorry.”
“Really, it’s okay.” Jo lifted her hands, not wanting to add any more discomfort to the situation. “Call me, okay?”
“Please. Stay.”
The urgency in Amelia’s voice stalled Jo, so she quickly lowered her gaze to her shoes. Bright white running trainers that were barely worn. She’d slipped them on as part of her made-up jog, but now she felt ridiculous. “I feel like I’ve completely blindsided you by showing up, and I don’t want you to think you have to invite me inside.”
Amelia tilted her head as a sincere expression crossed her face. “You’realwayswelcome here. You know that.”
Jo gave a tentative smile and stepped back up the garden path. As she passed Amelia in the doorway, the faintest trace of her perfume drifted over Jo’s senses. Warm, sensual,unmistakablyher. A shiver whispered down Jo’s spine before she could stop it. She turned suddenly in the hallway. “I won’t stay long. I just wanted to drop in and say hi.”
Amelia nodded slowly, but something flickered in her eyes. “Before Saturday, you wouldn’t have apologised for coming here, and you certainly wouldn’t have insisted on not staying for long.”
Jo jammed her hands into her pockets and balled them into fists, the fabric crinkling under her grip. She didn’t want to admit how much had shifted since Saturday night, but her worldhadtilted. “Yeah, I know.”
“So, why don’t you take a seat in the living room, get your bearings, and I’ll be right down.”
Jo nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”
As Amelia’s soft footsteps crept up the stairs, Jo stood in the hallway, suspended between comfort and distance. She knew this house. She knew the exact way the light filtered through the blinds in the morning, the creak in the second stair, the tea mugs stacked haphazardly in the cupboard above the sink. She’d made dinner here, laughed in the kitchen, cried once in the bathroom when things with Callum had gone so terribly wrong. This placehad been a refuge. And now? Now it felt like someone had changed the locks while pretending everything was the same.
She made her way into the living room and perched herself on the edge of the armchair. Her heart rate hadn’t quite settled, but she pressed her palms to her knees to ground herself. Jo didn’t need to worry here. It was Amelia, for God’s sake!
She looked up to find Amelia standing in the doorway, dressed now yet barefoot, her dark hair tucked behind one ear. Her eyes were searching—Jo didn’t know what for—but they were, and it was intense.
“Feeling better now?” Amelia crossed the room in a few elegant strides and lowered herself to the couch opposite Jo, curling one leg under herself. “The colour is back in your cheeks.”
“I’m fine. Iwasfine when I got here.” Jo gestured vaguely between them. “To be honest, I was worried I’d interrupted something I shouldn’t have.”
Amelia’s brow lifted with a hint of amusement. That familiar look that always did things to Jo. Things she so often tried not to think about. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s three in the afternoon. I didn’t expect you to answer the door looking flustered, wearing your robe. I…thought you had company.”
“Me? Company?” Amelia laughed, and it instantly settled Jo. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I ‘had company.’”
