So they had that established. “I guess, then, we should set a date and time.”
“Seriously?” She repeated his earlier word back to him, but in a far lighter, more delighted tone.
He shrugged, while his penis in the far-too-thin-and-revealing bike pants belied his relaxed response by standing up straight. Might as well be saluting. He glanced down at it.
“Seems pretty obvious that a date and time should be the next step,” he told her, glancing over to find her looking at his crotch, and then up at him.
She grinned. “How about my place, an hour from now?”
“How about tomorrow night? At six. Your place if you’d like. And I’ll bring dinner.”
“You want time to think about it.”
“I want us both to have time to think about it.”
“You really think dinner’s a good idea? It’s not a date-date.”
“We have to eat.”
She nodded.
“Okay, then, tomorrow at six. At my place. You bring dinner.” She opened her car door. “See you then.”
She’d shut the door before he could respond.
So he sat there, openly watching her very stimulating backside as she made her way back to her car.
He was allowed to look. To appreciate. He was so hard he couldn’t move. Had to calm his mind lest he explode.
And all it could think about was her. About exploding inside her.
There was no calming down. He and Amelia were going to have sex.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m going to have sex with him.” Amelia called her sister late that night. The conversation did not feel at all like something that should take place in the office the next morning.
Angie’s silence hung over her, a heavy weight that hurt. She’d debated not telling her sister, but didn’t want to feel like she was doing something she had to hide.
“It’s just sex, Angie,” she said now. “We’re so different, wanting such different things in life...we both know we don’t belong together.”
Angie still didn’t say a word.
“It’s not me giving up myself,” she said then, starting to feel defensive when she knew she had no reason to do so. “On the contrary, for once I’m just taking what I want. I’m the one who suggested it. Only because I know he’s on the same page,” she added. “I’m not out to hurt anyone.” Ever. Again.
“Then you should do it.” Her sister didn’t sound angry. Or even hurt. She didn’t sound happy, either.
“You really think so?”
“I do.”
“But you aren’t happy about it.”
Angie didn’t respond. Amelia couldn’t live to please her sister, either. Had never felt like she had to do so.
“Tell me why?” Her voice was pleading now, as she sat on her couch in the dark, wishing her sister was in the room with her. That they were kids again, in one or the other of their beds, whispering secrets when they were supposed to have been asleep.
Secrets girls their age shouldn’t have known to whisper. Things drunken Duane had called them that they’d had to look up to find out what they meant. Worrying that they might be what he said.