I don’t bother to answer, or even close the door, I just stomp over to the bed and throw myself at him.
Our lips meet in a clash and I kiss him feverishly, trying to work out my frustration and annoyance with Baxter, Slate and myself. I swear all I do is fuck things up. I know they’d all be better off without me but I’m in too deep to pull away now.
“Hey,” Onyx pants pulling away. “What’s up? Do I have to kill someone? Not that I’m complaining…that kiss was…yeah… But I want you in the present with me.”
A sliver of guilt stabs at me but I ignore it and kiss him again.
“You have too many clothes on. I’m pretty sure I said to be naked by the time I got back.”
Onyx grins at me. “You’re so damn bossy. It won’t work with me, Amelie.” I huff in frustration and pout. He chuckles. “What’s got you all worked up?”
“Baxter.”
“I’ll kill him,” he growls, immediately seeing red and moving to a sitting position.
“Well, you’ll have a hard time because he’s not here. Stood me up and dodged my calls.”
“Okay? I can’t see that making you this mad.”
“I ran into Slate.” I mumble.
“I see.”
“What? What do you see?” I stare at Onyx and frown. “Aren’t you going to ask what he did or offer to kill him too?”
“First, he’s my twin. I couldn’t kill him for anyone. Not even you. And second, I suspect he didn’tdoanything.”
I deflate. He’s right of course. “Amelie, I’m fine.”
I grit my teeth. I’m really starting to hate that word.
“You’re not?—”
“I am,” he cuts me off. “And you have to stop punishing Slate and yourself for what happened.”
“I don’t blame Slate at all!” I protest.
“But youareallowing your guilt to push him away. You’ve hurt him, Amelie. And you need to put things right.”
“I know…I just don’t know how,” I whisper past the sudden lump in my throat.
“If I were a better human being, I’d send you away right now to go fix things with him, but I’m selfish as fuck and I’ve missed you. So I’m gonna be selfish some more and you can sort shit out tomorrow, but for today and tonight, you’re mine.”
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me then.”
“Not until you tell me you love me again.” He grins at me, and my insides squirm uncomfortably.
“Pah! I don’t love you,” I protest feebly.
“Not what you cried over my dead body.”
“First, you weren’t dead,” I snap, instantly getting riled up again. I'm still a little sensitive over the whole thing, and I’m definitely not ready to make jokes about it. “Second, you were practically dead, so how the hell would you know if I was crying or not?”
“Ouch, you wound me. What’s a guy gotta do to get a little love around here?”
“Look after my puppy, write me a song, have a monster cock…”
“Amelie—”
