Page 75 of Conception
“I’ll do it,” she offers.
“I can’t ask that of you. Especially not with you getting sick there today.”
“I want to. I insist.”
I don’t have the energy to argue with her over this. “If you’re sure. You know where the extra key is. Just use that.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
I swallow hard. “I’ve already packed. I’ll leave straight from here first thing in the morning.”
The words hang in the air between us for what feels like an eternity. I’m grateful when she breaks the uneasy silence.
“And the other part? Wellington?” she asks, scrunching her nose.
I’m not sure if it’s in confusion or if she’s trying to stop the tears on the brims of her eyes from spilling onto her cheeks. Tears that I’m hoping are because she’s already feeling the loss like I am.
“Knox Wellington. It’s my full name.” I swallow hard. “I just thought…if this is it, you should know. Yeah, you know, in case you’re ever in the city and bored and wanna look me up for an afternoon quickie. Or maybe when you become a famous photographer and I come across you in some hotshot New York gallery, I can offer you a drink without you blowing me off like I’m some kinda groupie. Not that I’d know it’s you. Guess I’ll just have to stalk every photographer named Amelia.”
I’m doing something I’ve never done. I’m nervous-rambling and I fucking hate it. Seeing as how I’ve never felt like this. I fucking hate that, too. The thing is, I’m giving her an opening to give me her last name.
Will she take it?
She eyes me warily but doesn’t respond. Though I want to, I’m not about to fall to my knees and bed the girl I’ve been fucking, the girl I fell in love with—whoa.
Fuck.
What was that?
“Knox, are you okay? You just got really pale.”
I blink rapidly, my eyes trying into focus. When they do, I realize she’s crossed the room and is standing directly before me. Her hand lifts, soft fingers stroking my cheek.
“Fine,” I croak. Then I clear my throat, hoping my voice goes back to normal. “Really, sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that I’d be stalking you. At least not in aPsychoorFriday the Thirteenthcreepy kind of way.”
Amelia holds a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t you remember what Sunny told you at the beginning of the summer? I’m kind of into that.”
I blow out a breath. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”
Her expression turns wistful. “And yet it’s gone by so quickly.”
“I wish…”
She lifts onto her toes and brushes her lips with mine. “I know, Knox. So do I. But we both have school to get back to. Life to get back to. Perpendicular lines, remember? It can’t be helped.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off.
“Tomorrow will be here all too soon. Let’s not think about any of that tonight. Tonight, let’s just soak in all we can. Create another lasting set of memories.” She hits me with a wink. “Or three…”
Well, that’s that, I guess.
“You’re the boss,” I respond.
“First things first,” she tells me, crossing to the kitchen counter, where she’s left the Polaroid camera I got her. “Give me a smile, sugar. This is going to be all I have left of you after tomorrow.”
Right, because that’s the one thing she could say to make me smile. Instead, I think of my hands on her tits, the sight of her underneath me, moaning as I fuck her six ways to Sunday. I don’t know what expression crosses my face, but when Amelia snaps the picture and sets the camera down, she’s grinning at me.
“I don’t know what you were just thinking and I don’t want to know. What I can tell you is I’m sure that photo will be my first masterpiece.”
