Amelia places the food and wine in front of me and then sits on the other side of the couch, tucking her legs under her and sipping from her own glass. Just as I’m about to dig in, she leans close and flips my tie over my shoulder. She knows better than anyone that I get food on myself at least once a week.
After a few bites, I look at Amelia. “This is fantastic.”
“Thanks. It’s just lasagna. I could make it in my sleep by the time I was ten,” she says with a shrug, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. She always has a hard time taking a compliment.
“Okay, time for more roses.” Katie starts her show while Amelia groans and I laugh.
Amelia can’t watch in silence, which I find endlessly amusing.
“No, don’t give her a rose, you dipshit. God, he’s totally choosing tits over personality.”
“Those are some nice tits, though,” Katie says wistfully. I’m pretty sure she’s on pain meds.
“So? He’s rich. I know because he tells us ten times perepisode. He could pick a girl with a decent personality and then buy her new tits if she wants some. He can’t buy Tits McGee a new personality!”
Katie cackles. “I love watching this show with you.”
Amelia glares at her. “Because you’re mean. Okay, who wants a Danish? I can’t watch him kick off the only girl I even kind of like.”
She jumps to her feet and leaves the room. My gaze follows.
Katie clears her throat. “You ever going to make your move, Alex?”
“What?” I swivel my head to stare at her—eyes wide, mouth agape.
She grins at me like she just won something. “You’ve been in love with Amelia since the first day she showed up at the office. And she’s not going to wait around forever, you know?”
Shit.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie. But Katie’s not buying it. She opens her mouth but shuts it when Amelia walks back in with three small plates of danishes.
She gestures at the TV, where the woman with the good personality and small boobs is giving her exit interview. “See? Now, who the hell am I supposed to root for in this stupid show?” When the episode is finished, Katie asks Amelia to put on the ‘hot duke show,’ and I help bring the dirty dishes into the kitchen.
“So this is after-hours Amelia,” I say with a smile. She smirks as she rinses the plates and loads them into the dishwasher.
“Yep. She’s not as put together as on-the-clock Amelia, and she’s louder, too.”
“On-the-clock-Amelia isn’t exactly quiet,” I tease.
“True. But her hair is so much nicer.”
“That’s a matter of opinion. I kind of like the bird nest thing you’ve got going on.”
She flicks her fingers at me, sprinkling water on my face.
I wipe my sleeve across my cheek. “Well, we know which one of you is more mature.”
Chuckling, she steps closer to me and grabs a towel hanging nearby.
It’s getting harder and harder to keep my hands off of her, but I have to. I don’t want to fuck up what we have. My dick is trying to take over and my brain is turning to mush as I try to shift my focus.
“You have a tattoo,” I blurt out. I feel my cheeks heat.Jesus, I’m blushing like a freaking teenager.
She leans a hip against the counter and crosses her arms, a smirk on her face. “What makes you think I only have one?”
I shift slightly, hoping it’s not noticeable that I’m now imagining just where she might be hiding those tattoos. “I didn’t realize you were such a rebel, Amelia.”
“Oh,sucha rebel with my dance tattoos that you can’t see in office attire,” she quips.
