ChapterEleven
Amelia
The car ride to the dress shop is oddly quiet. I keep waiting for my mom to bring up last night, but she hasn’t and she didn’t make one peep through breakfast. I’m not sure which would be worse at this point. No one saying anything or someone saying something. Either way, it’s driving me insane,
I don’t think my dad believed me when I’d said I must have been dreaming when I cried out in my sleep. Even I’m honestly wondering if I’d dreamed it all up myself. It had been so intense and so out of character for me.
Dad gave me the stare-down, waiting for me to crack, and he even glanced at the balcony door before looking at me. I was so scared he was going to ask me if someone had been in my room. I’ve never lied to him before, and I’m not sure what I would have said at that moment. How could I admit to my father that I’d left my balcony door open so that some man that I don’t even know could slip inside and have his dirty way with me?
Crap. I press my thighs together because I’m getting turned on thinking about it. I slept terribly the rest of the night, and my body is aching for my Casanova to come back. I want more. Anytime I thought I heard something, my eyes would fly open and go straight for my balcony. He never came back, not that I can blame him. I don’t want to think about what my dad would have done if he caught him.
All of this is a freaking mess, but that said, I’ve never felt more alive in my life. Both of these men are melting away my ice princess persona, and it makes me wonder what will be left of me in the end.
“I brought my wedding dress too,” Mom finally says, breaking the silence. “Will you try it on? For me?” She gives me a hopeful look that I can’t say no to.
“Of course.” I smile.
“Don’t give me that bullshit fake smile,” she says, and I snort a laugh as a real smile forms this time.
“Mom.” I shake my head at her, and she cracks a smile with me. She reaches over and hits the button to close the partition and give us privacy from the driver. Oh, shit. Maybe I do want the quiet.
“We’ve never talked about safe sex, honey.” Okay, not where I thought this was going, but she must have known I had someone in my room last night.
“I know about safe sex, Mom. If anything, you should be having this talk with the man you picked for me to marry. It’s impossible for me to have anything, but he's another story.” I fold my arms over my chest but drop them instantly, knowing I look like a pouting child.
“Are you worried your intended will give you something?”
“You know the rumors, Mom!” Gah, now I’m shouting like a spoiled brat. For some reason this only makes my mom smile bigger. “Why are you smiling?!”
“He gets you worked up. My proper little Amelia is always so calm and collected.”
“Like an ice princess,” I say dryly, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“You’re far from an ice princess. In fact, in my experience anyone who is trying to hide how they feel typically feels deeper than all the rest.”
“So safe sex.” I loop back around, finding I’d rather talk about my sex life than my feelings. “Do married people use condoms?”
“Some might, I suppose. Would you like me to request Felipe’s medical records?”
“I can do that?”
“You can ask for anything you like. It doesn’t mean he’ll give them, but I think he would if he knew you wanted them. Would you like me to ask?”
“Yes.” I fight a smirk.
“You’re asking to needle him, aren't you?”