Fighting Our Way Page 10

  “I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to stand me up.”

  His jaw tenses but he doesn’t reply as we walk a block in silence. I want to talk to him about the information I have on Pete, but it’s not majorly important because he already knows and has gotten rid of him. I can tell him tomorrow or even email the information across if need be.

  “So…” I startle at the fact he’s the one starting the conversation. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  I know it has to be something important for him to be swallowing his pride, so I give him my full attention. “Shoot.”

  “It’s about Amelia.” As soon as he mentions her name, every nerve ending in my body is standing to attention. “Something’s going on with her.”

  “Right,” I mumble, not wanting to say anything else.

  “Do you know what it is?”

  I raise a brow; I know he doesn’t know about our day at the beach. Amelia would’ve never told him. “How would I know? I barely talk to her.”

  He laughs and I turn to look at him. “You must think I’m blind. I see how you always talk when you’re together.” I shake my head quickly as if I don’t know what he’s talking about, but maybe he’s more observant than I gave him credit for? She’s like a magnet, I always gravitate toward her; I can’t help it. “I…” He runs his hands over his face as if he’s frustrated and I know he’s struggling. “Every time something comes to the house for her, she acts… I don’t know… weird.”

  “Weird how?” I ask, thinking back to the way she freaked out when I teased her about the package before we went out to Gillies.

  “You saw her at the cookout, she was fine until that package turned up. Her face pales, and… I don’t know… there’s something in her eyes, something that tells me that there’s something going on. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m worried about her.”

  I shrug but inside I’m already sifting through the conversation we had that night. She told me it was something private but now I’m wondering why she acted so sketchy. “So, ask her.”

  “I have.” He stops walking as we arrive at Zanders. “She won’t tell me.”

  If she won’t talk to him, then maybe she’ll talk to me? “I can do some digging, see what I can find out.”

  He nods in reply and my blood runs cold when I look at the door of Zanders. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea? He isn’t in the best of moods as it is and I can see he’s genuinely worried about Amelia. But as he motions for me to go ahead of him, I can’t change who’s sitting inside this restaurant. It’s done now, I need to watch it play out.

  He follows me over to a table in the middle of the room I can see Harmony sitting at, staring down at her cell. I suck in a breath and wait for—

  “Harmony?” Tris says, sounding shocked. They stare at each other for a few seconds and I start to wonder if I need to say something until Tris adds, “What are you doing here?”

  Harmony opens her mouth and closes it again, the breath leaving her body as her gaze skirts to mine, her eyes narrowing. “I, erm… Would you like to answer that one? Or shall I?”

  I can feel Tris’s eyes burning a hole in my head as he grits out, “You called her?”

  I shrug because I can’t think of anything else to do under both of their scrutinizing gazes. “Messaged her on Facebook actually.” My gaze meets hers. “Hey, Harm.”

  “Hi?” she squeaks out before looking around at everyone in the restaurant who seems to have gone quiet as they watch our exchange. “I think you need to sit down before we get thrown out.”

  I snort but it’s because of how uncomfortable I feel, not because I find her light joke funny. Harmony is like me, she uses humor in awkward situations. I’m glad to see she’s not changed in that respect.

  Tris slowly sits down and I know it’s time for my disappearing act now they’re both here and sitting down together.

  I put up a finger as I fish inside my pocket, pretending my cell is ringing as I bring it up to my ear. “Cole. You’re sure? Now? Fine.” I push it back into my pocket after pretending to hang up. “Sorry, Tris, Harm, duty calls. Another time?”

  “You—”

  Before Tris can shoot the whole idea down, I smirk and look between them both. “Hey, considering you’re both here, you should stay and have lunch instead.” I can see the anger on Tris’s face, but tough shit. I wink and walk backward. “Catch you later.”

  I turn and don’t look back as I walk out and jog down the sidewalk to my office building. I don’t go inside, instead I go toward the parking lot and jump into my car, knowing exactly where I’m headed. I can’t get the worry and urgency in Tris’s voice out of my head. If something’s wrong with Amelia, I want to know about it.

  The last few weeks she’s turned from the smart, funny woman that looks after Tris’s kids to being all of that and more. She’s insanely attractive, yes, but her mind and kindness are the most beautiful things about her.

  I want to know what makes the dimple in her right cheek show when she’s gazing off into nothing. I want to show her the things I love and take her to places only she rivals in beauty. But all of that will have to wait because I want to get to the bottom of what’s going on with her first.

  I pull up in front of Tris’s house and take the steps two at a time, pushing on the door handle. I frown when it doesn’t open. Strange.

  I walk to the side gate to gain access to the backyard, but I find that locked too. They never lock it. Great.

  Walking back to my car, I take off my tie, unbuttoning my top button, and rolling up my sleeves. I leave my tie in the car and walk back toward the gate, ready to tackle getting over it. It’s just under a foot taller than me, if I can scale a rock face I’m damn sure I’ll be able to get over a seven-foot fence.

  I make sure I have a good grip on the top before I pull myself over, trying to find somewhere to put my foot. My left hand wobbles at the top and I feel myself topple, completely unbalanced.

  I catch myself at the last moment as my body flips over the other side, jumping down in one piece and blowing out a breath—that was close.

  Making my way over to the pool house, I see Amelia inside through a part of the blinds that are covering the windows. She’s sitting on her sofa with her legs crossed, stuffing popcorn into her mouth as she stares intently at whatever is on the TV screen.

  I watch her with a smile on my face for a minute, taking in her features. The emotions that pass over her face as she goes through the emotions on the screen with the characters are really something to see. She's in her own little world.

  I consider knocking but I don’t want to take her out of this moment, so I open up the door and close it quietly behind me. I look around the place, smiling at her huge record collection before my gaze falls on the TV. She’s watching a horror movie on her own. Is she crazy?

  Smirking to myself, an idea forms in my head as I tiptoe behind her and the sofa, leaning against the wall. I have to say, it’s a little disconcerting she’s not been very perceptive that I'm already here. But she has no reason to be; this is her own space.

  Her breath catches and she leans forward as the killer on the screen pops out from behind a curtain and I hold my breath, ready to pounce.

  I look up at the large clock on the wall after I’ve finished cleaning the floors of the entryway, noticing it’s just after one in the afternoon. My stomach rumbles, almost like it’s now remembering it hasn't been fed.

  Putting the cleaning supplies away, I do another walk around of the whole property, double-checking everything is locked up before going to the pool house. As soon as I step inside, I get the same prickly feeling I had this morning but I refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, I pull out my favorite horror movie and draw the blinds on the doors, leaving a small gap where sunlight streams inside.

  I haven’t watched a horror movie in the middle of the afternoon for what feels like months. It’s my favorite pastime—but only watching them while the daylight shines bright
outside. As soon as the sky darkens, there’s no way you would catch me watching one.

  Clicking the buttons on the remote, I load the DVD into the player before walking into the kitchen.

  Pulling the cupboard open, I grab a packet of popcorn before popping it into the microwave as I hum along to the theme tune of Texas Chainsaw Massacre—the original. Listening to the sound of the corn as it pops, I push everything out of my mind, determined not to let a thought come into my head while I spend the next ninety minutes engrossed in the movie.

  I pour the popcorn into a bowl, toeing my sneakers off as I walk back to the sofa, flopping down into the comfiness and letting the throw pillows swallow me up.

  Shoveling mouthfuls of the sweet popcorn in my mouth, I watch with rapt attention and wide eyes.

  The sound of a woman grunting comes through the speakers as she pushes herself up into a standing position. She gets into the hallway, looking around as a door opens, revealing Leatherface. I cringe when I see his mask is made from skin—human skin. His butcher's apron hanging around his torso—ready for the blood.

  I lean forward, holding the bowl in the gap of my crossed legs as he chases her down the hallway.

  “Get her!” I shout.

  “Yeah, get her!”

  “Ahh!” My arms lift, the bowl I’m holding flying through the air as popcorn rains down on me. “What the fuck!” My heart hammers in my chest, my legs shaky as I stand up and see Nate’s smirking face as he leans against the wall behind me. His eyes are alight with laughter as he does his best to hold it in.

  I hear the screaming on the TV as the man drags her into the house—I know from memory as it’s maybe the fiftieth time I’ve watched this movie.

  “Why the hell would you do that?” I growl, moving closer to him, warmth seeping through the soles of my feet from walking along the warm popcorn now decorating the floor.

  “Oh, come on. That was funny.” He laughs. “What are you doing watching a scary movie in the middle of the day anyway?”

  I huff. “That wasn’t funny in the slightest.” Shaking my head, I pick up the remote, pausing the movie before turning back to face him. “It’s my thing, I watch horror movies in the afternoon.”

  He walks around me, falling onto my sofa and shoving popcorn from the cushion beside him into his mouth. “You need a new hobby, that shit is creepy.”

  Staring at him for a beat, I watch as he makes himself comfortable. “Whatever.”

  Rolling my eyes when I realize he’s not going anywhere, I sit down next to him, aware of the few inches of space between us.

  “Do not put that back on,” he says as I pick up the remote.

  The corner of my mouth quirks up. “Are you…” I meet his gaze. “Are you scared?”

  He rolls his eyes, mirroring my movement from a minute ago. “No, I am not scared. But it is creepy.”

  “Mmmhmm.” I put the remote down on the arm of the sofa. “I believe you.” He raises a brow as he goes to speak but I cut him off. “What are you doing here? Tris is in the city at work.” I pause. “You know, the thing you should probably be doing, too.”

  “Firstly, I know, I was just with him. And secondly, I own my own company. Being your own boss has its perks sometimes.” He finishes his sentence with a wink.

  “Slacker,” I scoff, standing up and clicking the off button on the remote. “Looks like I’ll have to make myself something for lunch since you destroyed mine when you rudely encroached on my movie afternoon.”

  “Oooh encroached. Using big words today, aren’t we?” He chuckles. “I like the way it just rolls off the tongue though.”

  I shrug as I walk into the kitchen, picking up the box containing the memo cards and holding it up as I lean against the doorjamb. “It was my word of the day, gotta get it in somewhere.”

  I hear him chuckle. “Is that a box of words?”

  “Yep.” I keep my gaze connected with his, seeing intrigue and something else flash in their depths. “Three hundred sixty-five memo cards, each with a big word for you to use each day.”

  He pushes up off the sofa and walks toward me, taking them out of my hands and looking through them. “Hey, these are pretty cool. I’ll have to get some.”

  “Yeah, well…” I raise a brow when I pause, waiting until he looks back up at me. “Cool is my middle name.”

  With a snort, he says, “And you’ve just made them so uncool in the space of seconds.”

  “Pssshh.” I pluck them out of his hands, accidently touching his palm and ignoring the sensation traveling up my arm at the contact. “They’ll always be cool.” Placing them back in their rightful place, I spin around, aware of his eyes watching me intently. “You want a sandwich?” I ask, practically shoving my whole body into the refrigerator when I open the door.

  “Sure. What can I do?”

  “Erm…” I clear my throat, grabbing a tomato and holding it out to him without moving my face. “You can cut this.” I start pulling all the stuff out. Handing him an avocado, I tell him to cut that too and when he looks at me like I’ve gone mad I say, “Trust me.” I can practically hear his thoughts from here—Amelia, the carb-loving woman eating an avocado.

  He shrugs as he places it on the chopping board and plucks a knife out of the block. My stomach dips when I realize the one I used to open the package earlier is still sitting on the coffee table.

  Swallowing tightly, I place the fresh loaf of bread I baked overnight on another chopping board before cutting four slices. The smell wraps around us and causes my stomach to rumble.

  Why did I forgo this for popcorn earlier?

  Spreading garlic mayonnaise on all four slices, I place cold bacon leftover from yesterday’s breakfast on top before ripping off some leaves from a baby gem lettuce and heading to the sink to wash them.

  My gaze flits over to Nate as he pulls the avocado apart from where he sliced it down the middle. I squeak when the water jumps off a leaf and hits my face before turning toward a laughing Nate.

  “Distracted?” He smirks.

  “What? Me? No.” I pull a face telling him he’s crazy before turning the faucet off and drying the lettuce leaves on some kitchen paper.

  Adding them on top of the bacon, I reach over and pick up the tomato slices, placing them on the stack too. I smile down at my creation and pull two plates out of the cupboard, waiting for Nate to finish slicing the avocado.

  Screwing the lid back on the jar of garlic mayonnaise, I catch him studying it with a frown on his face.

  “Here,” I say, stepping closer and reaching my hand out for it. He doesn’t let it go when I try to take it from him, instead he grabs my wrist and pulls me closer, his lips lifting up into a smirk.

  “I know how to cut an avocado, Amelia.”

  “I…” My head tilts back, my eyes transfixed on his. I swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat. “I know that.” His fingers flex around my wrist as he takes a half step closer, his chest coming flush against mine.

  He scans my eyes, trying to see what I’m thinking. “What’s going on with you?”

  As soon as I realize what he’s doing, I slam my lids shut, cutting off the only way he’ll be able to see the truth from me. I’ve become so good at putting on a front, at being the person everyone can rely on; the person they can talk to about their own problems and not feel guilty because I don’t have any issues of my own. But I know tif Nate looks too closely—the way he was just now—he’ll be able to see it all.

  And I can’t let him.

  Pulling my wrist out of his grasp, I open my eyes, still feeling the warmth of his gaze penetrating my skin as I pick up the avocado.

  “There’s nothing going on with me,” I finally manage to say when I’ve locked everything away.

  He puts his hand over mine, stopping me from cutting it up. “We’re not blind. Tris is worried about you and the packages you keep getting.” I try not to flinch but I can’t help it. “If you’re in trouble—”

  I la
ugh, the sound loud and brash in the small space. “I’m not in trouble.”

  “Well then, what’s going on?”

  “Apart from a slight internet shopping addiction I seem to have gained?” I raise a brow as I bring my gaze up to his, hoping he won’t be able to see through the blatant lie. “Not much.”

  “You…” He nods slowly, hip checking me gently out of the way of the avocado. “You’re taking too long. I’m starving.”

  “Hey!” I try to squirrel past him, but he blocks me with his arm held out. Wrapping my hands around his bicep, I push forward, my back against his chest as I try to move him with the same ease he just did with me. What is this man made of? Solid rock? “I’m the sandwich maker!”

  “You gave me this avocado to slice, so I’m going to do just that.”

  He tilts his head to the side, his slicing stopping as his eyes meet mine. He’s so close I can feel the air as it escapes his lips.

  My fingers tighten on his biceps and his gaze flitting down to them and back seem to ignite something inside his eyes. The clank of metal sounds around us as he lets go of the knife.

  His body turns but I don’t move mine, relishing in the fact we’re even closer. The front of his shoes meets my sock-covered toes, his torso against my stomach, his chest hitting mine on a deep breath. I feel him everywhere.

  Butterflies swarm in my stomach, taking off like a flock of birds who are leaving for their next destination.

  “Nate,” I whisper, my voice so small, afraid to talk too loud in case it breaks this weird vortex we seem to be caught up in.

  Have his eyes always been this intense when he’s looking at me? Has his skin always been this tanned and smooth, or am I only noticing it now because I’m so close to him?

  His bicep flexes as he lifts his arm, the rough pads of his fingers skating over my skin as he makes a path up to my shoulder.

  My eyes flutter shut at the sensation and I have to sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop the moan wanting to desperately escape.

  If he keeps touching me like that...

  “One chance to—” I cut him off, throwing caution to the wind as I jerk forward and lift up onto my tiptoes, practically knocking him out as I throw my lips against his. We both stumble and he laughs and catches me. “Easy, tiger. How about we try that one again?”