Page 59 of After All This Time

Amelia visibly swallows, and for a split second, I think she might actually give me something real.

But then it happens—the fake-ass smile I've grown to hate with everything in me. It's a mask, a wall she puts up, and it's pissing me off.

"You were a dick after the bar, but I don't hold anything against you. I know you were drunk."

"As were you."

"Yeah, but I didn't yell at you."

"I know," I say, closing more distance. "And I shouldn't have. But don't stand there acting like you don't know exactly why I did."

"I know why you did." Her voice is calm but edged with steel, like she's bracing herself for a fight I didn't realize I was picking. "I know that whatever you were holding in got aimed at the wrong person, and it confused you—maybe more than you want to admit."What the fuck?My brows pull together, my eyes narrowing. "Logan messaged me," she continues, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tate's been blowing up his phone asking for my number, so I told him he could have it. Hopefully, I'll be out of your hair a little more."

"Tate?"

"Yeah."

"The biker prick?" I snap before I can stop myself.

"You say that like it's bad, but all I can think about are those biker reels I keep seeing," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, brushing past me toward the door like she's done with this conversation. Meanwhile, my blood's turning to fire, and I have no idea what to do with it.

"Mills, wait," I call out, yanking my shirt back on.

"What?"

Why did I stop her? What the hell am I going to say? Don't go out with him because my jealousy is eating me alive, and the thought of his hands on you makes me want to punch a wall.

"Nothing," I say, my voice flat, the words tasting like regret as soon as they leave my mouth. "Just… be careful with him."

She stares at me, her eyes narrowing like she's waiting for the rest of it. "Is that all? Because this is your window."

I pause, my version of "fuck it" dying a quiet death, caught between wanting to drag her back and needing to keep her away. I step back instead, holding the door like the coward I am.

"Yeah," I finally say, my jaw locking as I step back. "That's all."

Chapter 23

Amelia

Physically, I'm on autopilot—serving drink after drink, smiling at tipsy regulars, and pretending I'm fully present. Mentally, though? I'm stuck on Tobias and the beautiful disaster we call our so-called home life.

On the surface, everything looks fine, but the cracks are impossible to ignore—tiny fractures that no one else might see but are obvious when you're living inside them.

All I know is that it's exhausting.

Something's changing in him.

I see it in the way his jaw tightens when he's near me, in the way his eyes flash with something he doesn't quite understand.

He's at war with himself, and I can see it plain as day.

And I get it. Because, same.

My attraction to Tobias isn't a new thing. However, I made my peace with it a long time ago. I thought I could live with it and exist around him without it ever being more than background noise. But now it's loud and impossible to ignore.

He doesn't know what to do with it—with me, with whatever he's feeling when he looks at me—and it's throwing him off-balance in a way I've never seen before. Tobias has always been the calm one, the guy who could walk into chaos and leave it more organized than he found it. The one who never let anything faze him. But now he's so hot and cold, so completely out of sync with himself, that it's almost painful to watch.

And then there's the way he's trying to figure out if it's all in his head or if I feel it too.

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