If he hadn’t seen her first…
“I’m going to camp out in the office tonight,” Grey announces. “Just to make sure Amelia doesn’t accidentally burn down the building during her next cooking session. She’s worse than a Sim if you leave her alone with a stove,” he jokes, but there’s a serious undertone to his words.
We all head back to the office, and when we enter, I’m struck by the sight of Amelia on the monitors. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, engrossed in a book, clad in a pink pajama set adorned with little strawberries, her hair piled into a messy bun atop her head. The faint light from the lamp next to the sofa bathes her in a warm glow, highlighting the constellation of freckles scattered across her cheeks—something I hadn’t reallynoticed until I stood right in front of her and she was crinkling her nose at me adorably.
And when I took her hand earlier?
That touch…her skin was so incredibly soft.
Somehow, her slight height advantage over me, which I also only noticed up close today, is so damn hot.
Tall, British goddess.
Grey moves toward the mic, breaking my reverie. “Amelia, do you want to start cooking dinner?”
She looks up, a slight furrow between her brows, and places her book on the couch. “Actually, I’m not hungry tonight,” she responds, her voice carrying a hint of fatigue, making me worry.
Is she all right?
Did I hurt her with my words?
Oliver leans in, the worry in his tone clear as well. “She’s probably nervous about the meeting tomorrow.”
Grey nods subtly and presses the talk button again. “Are you feeling okay?”
We glance at the monitor displaying her vital signs—her temperature is normal, but her heart rate is elevated. Clearly, she’s more anxious than she lets on.
Probably all my fault.
“Sure, I’m just… tired. I’m sorry our last evening’s cut short. It was fun having you here, and giving you back to your daddies will be sad. But I was glad to get to know you,” she mumbles, her voice tinged with a melancholy that tugs at my heartstrings.
Jamie responds in his ever-calm tone, “The pleasure was all mine, Amelia.”
She smiles softly, a bittersweet curl to her lips. “I think I’ll head to bed if you don’t mind. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Jamie replies.
With a gentle nod, she stands, stretching before heading toward her bedroom. “Lights,” she calls out quietly, and theapartment dims into darkness, her figure receding into the shadows.
As the screen goes black, a heavy silence settles over us. Grey sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, that’s it for tonight, I guess.”
Oliver still looks troubled, and his gaze lingers on the darkened screen as he murmurs, “Sleep well, Amelia.”
We linger in the office a while longer, each working on some improvements for Jamie. Seemingly, none of us is ready to leave just yet. It’s clear Amelia’s made more of an impression on us than we expected.
Half an hour passes, and Grey stretches his arms above his head. “Let’s call it a night.” Standing from his chair, he claps me on the shoulder just as we hear a faint buzzing sound. It’s muffled but distinct.
Is she…
“What’s that?” Oliver asks.
We all fall quiet, listening for a moment. That’s when I hear it—Amelia is moaning softly, her breath hitching as the buzzing intensifies.
Jesus.
“Holy shit, we need to get out, give her some privacy.” Oliver stands so quickly that his chair rolls back and smacks against the wall.
There is another moan and then a whimper, louder this time. A shiver of goose bumps rises on my neck.
