Page 59 of Actually Yours

Now I’m wishing I wasn’t here.

“Um, yes. I’m here with Bella and Daniel…and…” I turn back to where Joe is watching this all unfold. “And this is Joe.”

Joe and Mike nod at each other, and their chests puff in unison as they size each other up.

What to do now?

“How do you two know each other?” Mike asks Joe as my temples throb. There are too many men to keep track of here.

“We just met. You two?” Joe asks, indicating between us.

“We went out.”

“Huh.”

“Yes,” I add uselessly. “That’s right.”

Silence descends over our awkward threesome.Where the hell is Bella when I need her?

“Amelia, is that you?”

Now what?

My stomach now down in my fancy shoes; I turn to see who is calling my name.

NO!

“Jake. Hi.”

How is this my life?

CHAPTER 12

Jake

I hadn’t wanted to come tonight. In fact, I’d told Steven no several times over the course of the week and each time he’d vetoed my objections.

“You’re becoming too much of a hermit. It’s not good for you.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I’d responded.

“You only got one thing on your mind. One tiny woman who is consuming all of your thoughts and, as your best friend, I’ve got to get you help.”

“In the form of a ball?” I’d asked dryly.

“Exactly.”

And it had gone back and forth like this for five full days. Five days where I’d been determined to not get dressed up in this uncomfortable suit and bowtie and instead indulge in the latest series ofAlone: The Australian Wilderness. But he’d pushed and prodded, reminding me I need to get out and meet people. ThatAmeliais out and meeting people. And that I can’t sit around and wait for her to be ready for me.

So here I am, in an effort to get over the woman who’d captured my heart, standing in front of her. While she stands in front of not one, but two men. Both vying for her attention.

This is not happening.

And she looks incredible. Like a vision in her glittery dress, sparkling bright, drawing all the light in the room onto her. Her shiny hair is swept up and away from her face, exposing her long, creamy neck, and between the deep V of her gown and the high split, my eyes can’t decide where to land. Except that they can. On her big, brown, velvety eyes, which are currently looking at me with regret. Or remorse? Or something other than the adoration I know is in mine when I look at her.

Bugger this.

I make myself turn away without responding to her weak greeting, leaving her to her flock of admirers, now determined to find alcohol. And lots of it.

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