Page 45 of Yours Until Forever

And then she’s reaching for her blazer, turning, and walking out of the bar while I’m left wondering what the hell she means by that.

The thing I’m not in the dark about?

Amelia’s been thinking about me just as much as I’ve been thinking about her.

12

Amelia

My week doesn’t go from bad to worse as it wears on, but it certainly doesn’t go from bad to good.

On Wednesday afternoon, the day after my day drinking episode, I get stuck in a long meeting with my lawyer and agent. Just after two p.m., I realize I’m nowhere near close to being finished and that I won’t make it to school on time to collect Sarah. Since I don’t want to ask James for help, I open my phone to text Shayla and Gage to see which of them has Luna tonight and whether they can help me out.

The second I open my messages, I’m reminded that Gage texted me this morning and that his text remains unanswered. The mortification I feel over my behavior yesterday flares again, just like it did when I woke up and found his text.

Not only did I mess up his schedule by forgetting our meeting, but I also said a lot of things to him. Alot. And although some of it’s hazy, I remember most of it.

He was a gentleman about it all and got me home safely. But God knows what he thinks of me now.

I push my embarrassment down so I can find someone to pick Sarah up.

Gage:

How are you feeling after yesterday?

Me:

Hey, sorry I haven’t had a chance to reply. I wasn’t too bad this morning. Just a slight headache. I actually have a favor to ask. I can’t get to Sarah in time for pickup. Do you have Luna tonight?

Gage:

Yeah. I can grab Sarah too.

Me:

You’re a lifesaver! Thank you.

I go back and forth in my mind over sending him another text with an apology for yesterday, but in the end, I have to put my phone away and get back to my meeting.

It’s almost four by the time I get to Gage’s building, and by then I’m a walking ad for overwhelm, poor life management, and total disarray.

I walk into the lobby, the tall glass doors whispering shut behind me. The space is all muted luxury with its sleek stone, matte black accents, and low lighting that makes it feel more like a private gallery than a residential building.

The doorman spots me from behind the curved marble desk and smiles in recognition. He taps something on the embedded touch panel in the desk and greets me. “Good afternoon, MsSinclair. Mr. Black’s on his way up. I’ll let him know you’re joining him.”

“On his way up?” I thought he was already home.

He nods and gestures toward the elevators. “Yes.”

Right. That explained everything.

His arm stays extended, a quiet prompt to head for the elevator bank.

“Thank you,” I say and make my way over.

A moment later, Gage’s private elevator opens, and he’s standing inside. His intense gaze settles on me, and it feels like his eyes hold a thousand questions. But that could just be me. Maybe I’m overthinking all of this.

“Hey,” I say a little breathlessly as I join him. My fingers are instantly in my hair, running through it the way they do when I’m nervous. “I thought you would already be home.”I thought I’d have this elevator ride to gather myself before having to see him and face my embarrassment over yesterday.

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