Just a Number (38 page)

27. A Hard Day’s Night

T
he next few days come and go, and neither one of us has heard from Alan yet. Samm came back through, and we met her for dinner before heading over to Amelia’s. I didn’t wind up staying the night, but I was sure to leave her wanting more.

We’d made plans to get together tonight, but something came up at work, and I am now going to be working late. Hearing this disappointed her, but she accepted it—though, not until after making me promise to call her if I found a moment or was thinking about her.

The fact that I’m
always
thinking about her means there’s a pretty good chance I’ll be talking to her more than I’ll be getting any work done. Though, I’m sure she knew this when she made me promise…and she secured the probability of it happening when she sent me a picture of her topless.

She’s a tease, and I have half a mind to head over there when I finish up here and make her take care of my current…situation.

But, alas, I wind up stuck at work for another three hours.

By the time I finish and send off the final proposal, everyone else has left the building. It’s almost midnight, which means Amelia’s been in bed for almost two hours now. When we spoke on the phone earlier, I told her I likely wouldn’t make it over, but promised we’d get together the next day, even meeting up early since I’d invited Stephen and Julia out to dinner.

Yes. It’s time to tell Julia. She may be small, but nobody instills fear in a full-grown man like that woman.

I agree to pick Amelia up at her place at five so we can meet Julia and Stephen at the restaurant, so imagine my surprise when there’s a knock on my door and she pops her head in.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You busy?”

Standing up, I glance through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office to see a few people watching her—us—curiosity obvious in their stares. “Just finishing up, actually.” I walk out from behind my desk and pull her into my office, closing the door behind her. “I thought I was picking you up?”

Amelia shrugs, dropping her bag on one of the chairs in front of my desk and adjusting her jacket around her. “I finished class and had Liz drop me off. Figured I’d save you the trip since the restaurant isn’t far from here.”

Before I can say anything more, the door to my office flies open, and Elliot pops his head inside. “Hey, Owen. You got that contract written up?” His eyes flit to the back of Amelia’s head momentarily, then back to me before he does a double take. “Hey! Mystery girl?” A jovial grin appears on his face as he invites himself inside.

I notice Amelia inhale and hold her breath almost nervously, forcing her smile to widen as she slowly turns around to introduce herself. “Elliot, right?” she says, holding out her hand. “Amy.”

He falters a little, recognizing the name from when he met Alan, and he looks at me, eyes wide and…
proud?

“Ah,” Amelia says calmly. “So you know who I am.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement of fact. “Which can only mean you’ve met my father.”

Elliot shakes her hand, stammering a little before finding himself again. “Uh, yeah. Great guy, your dad.” There’s a pause before Elliot succumbs to the awkwardness and excuses himself. Without the contract. Before he can get too far, I go after him and let him know I’ll be leaving the office to make my dinner reservations, but if he has any problems, to call and I’ll try to help him sort through everything. He assures me he’s got it under control and to just enjoy my evening, so Amelia and I head to the restaurant.

I’m not sure how enjoyable it will be; while I don’t think my sister will be overly opposed to the idea of Amelia and me dating, she could very well be pissed off that I kept it from her for this long. It’s not often we kept things from one another, so this could upset her. I’m just hoping she’ll understand
why
we did it.

The little Portuguese restaurant is one of Julia’s favorites—hence why I chose it. She’s always keen to come here for her birthday or any celebration, so I figured it might be a good way of buttering her up. She’s not usually inclined to walk away from the chance to eat here, so hopefully she’ll hear us out.

Amelia and I arrive before the time we asked Stephen and Julia to meet us here. The hostess seats us in the reserved booth, and after we slide in side-by-side, our server comes right along to take our drink order. He’s a young man, about Amelia’s age, with dark hair and eyes. He introduces himself as Josh, his eyes always on Amelia. Admiring her.

Now, I know she’s an extremely beautiful young woman—I’m not dense—but as he stares at her, I have this intense need to claim her as mine. It doesn’t take long to recognize this feeling as jealousy. It’s not that I’ve never felt jealous before. I have a few times in the past. But this is different. I’m in a relationship with a twenty-two year age gap, so this
boy
probably has more in common with her than I do.

I order a bottle of wine for the table and ask for four glasses. With a coy grin, the server winks at Amelia—he fucking
winks
at her with me sitting right god damn here. “I’m sorry, miss,” he begins, “but I’m going to have to see your ID.”

Amelia blushes, but I can tell it’s not because she’s falling for his sad excuse for flirting, but because she’s been carded, once more pointing out the obvious age gap. Sweeping her hair off her back and over her shoulder, I place my hand on the back of her neck, moving my thumb over her skin softly in hopes of relaxing her as she digs out her license.

As I’d hoped, Josh notices my gesture, his cheeks reddening as his eyes drop to his notepad. Once he’s satisfied with the information on Amelia’s ID, he leaves to fulfill the drink request. Alone again, Amelia turns to me and grins.

“Are you nervous?” she asks, her forehead creasing slightly with worry.

I shake my head, trying to hide any apprehensions I may have about what’s going to happen tonight. “Not at all.”

She giggles as I lightly draw my finger over her jaw and cup her face, and she leans into the touch. “You’re a terrible liar, Owen.”

Leaning forward, my nose lightly brushes hers, and our lips are a hairsbreadth apart. “You’ll forgive me if I’m trying to keep from projecting my feelings onto you.”

She hums contemplatively before smirking. “I suppose you’re just trying to be a gentleman,” she replies softly. “You’re forgiven.”

I close the gap between us and press my lips to hers. She releases a delicate moan, her hand coming to rest on my thigh. This, naturally, causes my dick to stiffen, and I suddenly want to call my sister to reschedule so I can take Amelia home.

Whose home? It doesn’t fucking matter at this point.

Of course, that idea—and my growing erection—is immediately forgotten when our dinner companions arrive.

“Hey, Ow—what the hell is going on?” Her greeting-turned-startled question forces our attention to her, and Amelia scoots a few inches away from me, her fingertips pressed to her lips and her eyes on the table. Julia and Stephen are still standing at the head of the table, clearly not sure if they should sit on their side of the booth or not.

“Owen,” Julia prompts again when I don’t respond.

I clear my throat and hold my hand out toward the empty seat across from us. “Please,” I say, “have a seat and we’ll explain everything.”

Hesitant, Julia slides into the booth, her wide eyes moving between Amelia and me slowly before turning to look at Stephen. “You knew about this the whole time.”

I fear for Stephen’s manhood momentarily before Julia turns her icy glare back on me. “Does Alan know?”

Next to me, Amelia looks ashamed, but she answers with a more confident voice than I expect. “He does.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Amelia responds, following it up with a sigh. “He’s…sorting through everything in his own time.”

Beneath the table, I place my hand over Amelia’s and give it a gentle squeeze, silently reassuring her.

Julia is quiet as she sits back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her as she contemplates everything. Her eyes move back and forth between us, studying us as if to see if this is some kind of practical joke we’re trying to pull over on her. I’m just about to tell her it’s not when Amelia speaks up again.

“We’re in love, Julia,” she says softly. “I mean, we’ve always
loved
each other…but this is different. It was never intended to go this far, but it did, and we’re both extremely happy.” Explaining our relationship to others is starting to sound memorized and rehearsed.

More quiet, the sound of silverware clattering against plates while people enjoy their meals the only thing we can hear. Finally, Julia’s mouth opens, but it’s not to congratulate us. “I need a drink.”

Stephen flags our server down, and he rushes right over to take their order and drop off our wine. Julia orders a double shot of whiskey—neat—and when she gets it, she downs it in one gulp, hissing as it goes down.

“Okay,” she says after a long while. “So, you’re together.” We both nod, and she leans forward onto the table, a smile slowly spreading. “You know all I’ve ever wanted was for the two of you to be happy.” She hesitates, her smile faltering a little. “And I hate to put a damper on this, but…what if this doesn’t last? What would happen then? The two of you won’t want to be around each other, and Alan would take Amelia’s side.”

I turn to Amelia and watch her eyebrows furrow with irritation. “This isn’t just some fling, Julia. We’re two consenting adults. We understood the stakes when we agreed to pursue a relationship. Why do you think we kept it from everyone for so long?”

“Hey,” I say softly, drawing Amelia’s attention to me. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to imply—”

“No, she’s right,” Julia interjects, surprising me. “I love you both, but would I ever in a million years have thought that the two of you would get together? No. Relationships with such a large age gap rarely last. That’s reality.”

Now it’s my turn to get defensive. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. We know it’s not going to be easy, but we’re willing to try. All we ask is for a little support.”

Julia stares at me, her mouth open in shock. It isn’t until the server returns to take our dinner order that she comes out of her stupor. We take a slight reprieve from the awkwardness that hangs over our table and place our orders. When Josh steps away again, Julia sips on the glass of wine I poured her a minute before.

 After swallowing, she clears her throat and looks at us again, her eyes showing what looks like remorse. “Look, I’m sorry if I seem a little…resistant to”—she waves her hands between us—“this. It just caught me off guard, and that’s not something I’m familiar with. I’m usually pretty good at seeing things for what they are, so this is unsettling for me.” She smiles, this time a little more genuinely. “I am happy for you both. It’s been obvious these last couple months that you really do make one another happier than I’ve seen in a long while.”

Stephen reaches over and places his hand on her back. “And she’s back,” he declares happily.

The rest of the evening goes pretty well. Julia’s unease is still present, but she tries to remain open-minded and levelheaded about everything. By the end of dinner, we’re all laughing and planning another outing. Julia suggests dinner and dancing, and Amelia seems enchanted with the idea, all starry-eyed and wistful.

Amelia and I walk Julia and Stephen to their vehicle, say goodnight, and go on our way back to Amelia’s place for the night. When we arrive, I lock the door behind us and watch as Amelia wanders down the hall of her small apartment, shedding her jacket and clothing along the way.

She stops next to her bed when she sheds her tight green shirt and turns to me as she unbuttons her jeans. “You planning on joining me? It’s been an awfully long couple of days.”

I double check the door before rushing toward her and throwing her down on the bed, her squeal of delight bouncing off of every surface in the small loft-style apartment. Her laughter dies the instant my lips are on hers, and her fingers work quickly to remove my tie and unbutton my shirt.

She moans when my hand palms her breast urgently over her bra, my fingers dipping behind the soft fabric and stroking her nipple. This forces her back to arch into my chest, a tiny mewl escaping against my lips as she tries to hook one of her legs around me. Before I let her do that, I remove my hand from her amazing tit and work to remove her pants and then my own. With all of our clothes scattered on her floor, I slip between her legs and kiss a trail down her neck and chest until I’ve taken a perky nipple gently between my teeth.

She moans again, threading her fingers through my hair to hold me against her, her hips writhing beneath me and teasing me. “Owen,” she sighs, the husky tone of her voice making me even harder. Who knew that was even possible?

“What do you want, sweetheart?” I inquire, lifting my face from her breast and slipping a hand between her legs, finding her wet and wanting. Her hips buck into my touch, and her hands fall to the blanket and grip it tightly.