The First Taste(77)

She swallows. “Andrew . . . please don’t tell me—”

“I’m not telling you what you want to hear.”

“That’s not what I was going to say. I believe you. I just . . . don’t tell me what you tell other girls. That’s all I ask.”

She wants to be special. Or, at least, different. Is it because she’s jealous? I let a slow smile spread over my face and don’t respond for a few seconds, enjoying the way uncertainty sets on her face. “Is that all you ask?” I repeat. “Or are you asking me not to tell other girls anything at all?”

She glances into the drink. “I mean, that wasn’t really our deal . . . we haven’t discussed anything other than—but last night . . .”

I wait. I could rescue her, but I want to hear what she has to say. Honesty has been a two-way street for us, and if it’s going to work, it has to stay that way. I’m not going to guess what she’s thinking just so she doesn’t have to own it.

She looks up again, a new determination in her eyes. “I don’t know what I want,” she says. “And that’s the truth. The idea of other girls makes my stomach hurt. But I can’t ask more of you, because I don’t know if I can give more.”

I feel a slight pinch of disappointment, but then it’s gone. This isn’t Amelia’s fault. It’s that motherf*cker ex-husband of hers. After what she told me last night, I can’t expect her to trust me just because I ask it of her. I’ll have to prove to her I’m worth it, and for the first time since Shana left, I’m up for the challenge. Amelia is broken. I can help her through it, because I was broken too.

Was? My thoughts grind to a halt. I was broken? I’ve known for some time that my resentment toward Shana was weakening. When I thought of her, anger was no longer instant; it took me more time to work up to it. But am I finally past it? It’s been almost four years to the day. Everyone who knew Shana and me said ‘give it time.’ I’d thought it was bullshit. Maybe I’ve been here awhile and didn’t realize it until Amelia came along.

She’s gnawing on her bottom lip. I’ve left her out in the cold with no response. “There are none,” I say.

She tilts her head. “None what?”

“Other girls. There are girls that I—” I believe in honesty, but I don’t think it’s necessary to go into more detail about Denise or anyone else than I already have. Other girls lost their appeal the night I met Amelia. But they left the picture completely last night at the dinner table when I watched Amelia with Bell. She wasn’t perfect, and I realized I didn’t need her to be. “I’ve had a lot of casual sex in my life. What we did last night wasn’t that. I like this better.”

Her lips twitch before she gives in to a hesitant smile. “Well, you know where I stand—in terms of sexual partners. You had to clear the cobwebs away that first night.”

“Good thing I find cobwebs sexy.”

She laughs quick and loud, caught off guard, and then her shoulders relax against the headboard. “So, why were you standing there staring at me when I woke up? Contemplating the most efficient way to arrange my body parts in the freezer?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be weird. I was actually thinking,” I glance around the room, “how much it bothers me, you living here.”

“Because she was here?”

“Her, him. You’ve felt unsafe here. You’ve had your heart broken here.” I point at the ground I’m standing on. “We need to get you the hell out of this apartment.”

She pulls back a little, raising her shoulders around her neck. “What?”

“I know you’ve been fighting for it, but why? Why would you want to live here, where they’ve been? Where he made you feel like nothing?”

She looks away, her brows furrowed. “Honestly, I don’t. I thought maybe I’d sell it once I won it—that would really piss him off. But I can’t just let him walk away from this unscathed.”

“Believe me, he’s scathed. He lost you.”

She looks back at me, her expression softer. “It’s not enough. Don’t you understand—it’s about principle. I want to put him through the wringer.”

“But you’re putting yourself through the wringer. Don’t you understand? The best way to hurt him is to move on with your life. You’ll never be able to do that while you’re here.”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “What makes you so sure? Reggie hurts from his wallet, not his heart.”

I shake my head. All the money in the world can’t buy back a man’s pride. Seeing Amelia with me, knowing she’s strong enough to leave him behind—that’ll do more damage than an apartment. And it’s what’s best for Amelia. “I’m a man. I tend to know how they think.”

She sighs. “My therapist doesn’t think it’s healthy either, but I can’t just up and leave. This is my home.”

“Amelia, you’re one of the strongest women I know. You can up and do anything.” I check her bedside clock. “I have a few hours before I need to go get Bell for her gymnastics class. Let’s get breakfast and go look at some places. Just to get you moving in the right direction.”

“But—” She stammers. “I can’t just move. We’re in the middle of planning a huge fashion show at work while simultaneously building out an influencer marketing division. Do you have any idea how grueling it is to try to keep up with the teen market? I’m creating a whole team just for that. Not to mention the fact that before I can even think of moving, I have to worry about selling this place—”