Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“Amelia.”

She pauses in thought. “Tristan’s Amelia?”

I shake my head. “No, my Amelia. She’s not Tristan’s anything, but she does look after his kids.”

“Alright, but she’s here, right now?” I nod. “So it’s serious?”

I shrug as she picks up her cell, but I can’t help the grin kicking up so much that I probably look a little insane. “I like her a lot.”

“Oh em gee! You love her, don’t you?” I walk out of the room, ignoring her. “You do. You love her!”

“Grow up, Maya,” I retort in jest, still smiling as she follows me down the stairs.

She giggles. “You want to kisssss her, you want to loooove her, you want to—”

I spin around and point at her before we reach the kitchen door. “Do not finish that sentence.”

She smirks, edging away from me. “Make babiesss.”

Before I can get ahold of her, she dodges around me and flies through the kitchen door, me on her tail. As soon as we enter the room, I pick her up and Mom and Amelia swivel around on the bench.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Mom asks.

I immediately place Maya on the floor and step away from her, my gaze falling on Amelia’s amused expression. “She started it.”

Mom stands and walks over to the stove. “You’d think being thirty-two years old you’d have grown up a little by now, but no. You’re your father’s child that’s for sure.”

Amelia stands up, walking toward me, her eyes alight with laughter. Standing next to me, she turns and smiles big and wide at Maya. “Hey, Maya.”

Maya raises a hand in a small wave. “Hey.” She smirks at me before looking back at Amelia. “You’re my brother’s girlfriend?”

I tilt my head down at the same time Amelia looks up at me. Her eyes shine bright, her lips pulled up into what seems like a permanent smile. I get lost in her eyes, my hand reaching out for her and interlocking our fingers.

Turning my body closer to Amelia’s, I forget about everyone in the room, and from the way her gaze flicks down to my lips and back, I’m guessing she does, too.

Lifting my other hand, I skim it up and over her arm, relishing in the goose bumps spreading over her skin at my touch.

“Ewww! Stop being all heart eye emojis with each other!”

“Maya, leave them alone,” Mom admonishes.

“What?” She walks over to the table, sliding onto the bench and pulling out her cell. “Amelia, are you on Facebook? I’ll add you now.”

Turning away from Amelia, I cough to gain Maya’s attention but she ignores me on purpose, keeping her gaze on Amelia’s.

“I’m not,” Amelia answers, her voice small as she shuffles her feet on the floor. “I’m not into the whole social media thing.”

Maya’s eyes goes wide. “No Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, or Tumblr either?”

“Maybug, stop pestering Amelia,” I groan but I’m waiting to hear her answer too.

“No, it’s okay,” Amelia says, stepping forward as she sits opposite Maya. “I have Pinterest, but it’s where I keep all of my recipes,” she offers.

Maya’s attention is immediately sucked into her phone as she types furiously. “I can’t find you, what’s your last name?”

“Maya,” I grind out, walking over to the table and sitting beside Amelia.

“Ahh, I’m under Cookieaddict123.” Amelia looks down at her hands on the table.