Page 30 of After All This Time

Before I could say a word, he crossed my room in three strides and scooped me up. Even half-drunk, his arms were steady and strong around me as he carried me down the hall to his room. He laid me on his bed like I was something precious, then dropped onto the mattress beside me.

Maybe it was the way he was looking at me, or maybe I was just feeling brave, but I finally asked him why—why Firefly? Why had he given me that name?

Tobias's eyes locked onto mine, and despite the alcohol running through his system, they were completely focused in a way that made my heart skip a beat.

"Because you're the light in this fucked-up dark house,"he whispered, and the raw honesty in his voice nearly broke me."You showed up, and suddenly everything wasn't so coldanymore. Because you, Mills—you brought the warmth with you. You brought the light."

The memory clings to me as I pull a bottle of water from the fridge and hand it to him, my fingers brushing his as he hands me some money.

"Yo, Amelia?" Tate's voice cuts through the moment, and I turn to find him grinning, leaning casually against the bar next to Tobias. "What shifts are you working?"

"I have no idea yet. Tonight was a trial, so I might not even be allowed to stay." That's a lie. I've already been offered the position. Daz and Rachel have been nothing but welcoming and patient with me as I've been learning the ropes, especially Logan, who's been on the receiving end of my relentless questions the past few days.

"You're staying. I'll make sure of it. It's about time we had a pretty face behind the bar."

He's attractive, but there's something about him that's a little too cocky that makes me file him under fun mistake rather than anything serious.

"Chrissy's hot," Harper interjects from her perch, popping into the conversation out of nowhere, peeking around Logan and Tobias.

"Chrissy's my cousin."

"It happens," Harper says, resting her tipsy little head on Logan's shoulder, and I watch the gentle smile spread across his face at her open affection.

"How can I convince you to ride my bike if I don't know when you're around?"

"I guess you'll just have to take your chances. Either I'll be here, or I won't."

His lips curve into a smile, and without another word, he turns and walks away.

"You can go if you want, Amelia."

"You sure?" I ask, and Logan nods.

"You did good tonight," he says with a smile just as Harper does her bestSleeping Beautyimpression against his shoulder.

"Thank you. Tell your parents I said bye." With a wave, I step past Tobias, his body shifting just enough to let me through but not enough to avoid brushing against him.

Tobias's red Audi sits gleaming under the streetlight, but I can feel something's off with him as I walk toward it. It's his energy—it's always been easy for me to pick up on, and tonight, it's… tense. As we slide into the car, Tobias doesn't say a word. He grips the steering wheel, fingers tightening around the leather, jaw clenched in that way that tells me something's bothering him, but he's not ready to talk about it yet.

Chapter 12

Tobias

Iknow an asshole when I meet one—hell, I was practically the poster boy for it once.

My first few years at college were a blur of cheap shots at parties in the house I shared with Erik and Harry or buried deep in some nameless girl I wouldn't recognize in the daylight. I was reckless and allowed my dick to drive most of my decisions.

It was fun, but it was empty.

I've changed. I haven't been that guy for a long time—the one who allows his raging hormones to rule his brain. I still love women. I still crave sex, but it's different now. I want the heat, the feel of a woman's bare skin under my fingertips, the softness of thighs beneath my hands, and the way a woman melts and arches when you touch her just right.

But it's not enough; I need to feel more than the physical. I don't know what I'm searching for, but I know I need more than a warm body to lose myself in.

But this guy—Tate, or whatever the hell his name is—is a different breed of asshole altogether. I saw the way he was eye-fucking Amelia from where he stood next to me as if she were something shiny and new. Sure, she's beautiful—anyone with half a brain cell can see that, and she's got this energy about her that makes her stand out in a room, but she deserves so much more than some smug, self-satisfied prick who sees her as nothing more than a conquest.

Amelia is not the woman you fuck and forget.

Am I being slightly judgmental? Maybe. Do I give a single fuck? Not one.Because if I'm right—and I guarantee I am—then there's no way in hell I'm going to stand by and let anyone treat Amelia like she's less than what she is.

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