Rules of Contact
Page 49
“Neither. I just didn’t know I was your girlfriend. Then again, I didn’t know we were dating, either, until you told me.”
Amelia confused him. “Okay. I’m . . . sorry?”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
It had been a long day. He was tired. He knew Amelia was probably tired, too, and this was the wrong damn time to have this conversation. But now he was irritated. “So because I called you my girlfriend I’ve pissed you off.”
“No . . . I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I’d just like to be asked once in a while instead of told.”
Flynn dragged his fingers through his hair and dragged in a deep breath, then let it out. “Okay, so you don’t want to be called my girlfriend. How about the woman I’m fucking?”
She leveled a glare at him. “Now, that was insulting.”
He widened his arms. “Then I don’t know how to talk about us, Amelia. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you, Flynn. We’re just going out. We’re having some fun together. Isn’t that enough? Why do we have to put labels on it? Why do you have to attach yourself to me? Or why can’t we talk about it before you announce that I’m your girlfriend? You don’t own me, you know.”
And now it was ownership. He had no idea how this conversation had taken such a wrong turn. He’d had enough and before things got ugly between them he needed to put a stop to it. “Okay, I think I should take you home.”
“That sounds like a really good idea.” She got up and grabbed her purse and headed toward the door, obviously as ready for some separation as he was.
They went outside and it was clear she didn’t want to be anywhere near him, because she shot around to the passenger side of the SUV in a hurry, so he didn’t even bother trying to go over there to open the door for her. Instead, he slid into the driver’s side.
The short drive to her place was made in tense silence. When he pulled in front of her house, Flynn struggled to say something, anything to break the tension between them. But Amelia unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door, apparently in a hurry to get away from him.
“Thanks for letting me come to the game today. I had a good time.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Good night, Flynn.” She shut the door and headed inside her house without even a backward glance.
He thought maybe the short drive would have cooled off her temper. He guessed not.
Fine. This wasn’t his fault. Calling Amelia his girlfriend wasn’t some kind of crime. He put the car in gear and headed home.
TWENTY-ONE
Amelia stared into her cup of coffee, looking for answers. Or maybe a cure for the raging headache that throbbed incessantly between her temples. Never again was she going to drink that much wine, because it obviously made her behave like a complete bitch.
She was so glad today was her day off, because if she had to go to work tonight it would be brutal.
She’d come home last night, tossed her purse on the sofa, then opened a bottle and had yet another glass, which had only ended up tasting sour to her. In the end, she’d gone to bed but had been unable to sleep, convinced she’d been in the right. Her subconscious, on the other hand, had other ideas. She’d lain awake for hours, unable to sleep while she’d replayed the conversation between Flynn and her.
So he’d called her his girlfriend. Why had that irritated her so much? She’d spent several hours staring at the dark ceiling of her bedroom last night trying to figure that out.
She’d been leery of relationships ever since her divorce. The last thing she’d wanted was to tumble into yet another relationship with a man who’d want to control her. So maybe Flynn’s labeling of her as his girlfriend triggered something that made her uncomfortable, and she hadn’t even realized it. Then, subconsciously, she’d lashed out at him for no reason at all. Because if there was one thing she knew, it was that Flynn was nothing like her ex-husband. He was kind and encouraging and not at all controlling.
She heaved a sigh, then took another sip of coffee.
She owed Flynn a huge apology. If he intended to ever speak to her again.
When her phone buzzed, she reached across the table to check it. Surprisingly, it was a text from Flynn.
Are you awake yet?
She smiled and texted back. Having coffee. What are you doing?
Just got home from taking Mia to the airport.
At least he was speaking to her. That was a good sign.
If you’re not busy, would you like to come by for coffee? She texted back to him, then waited, chewing on her bottom lip.
Be there in 10 mins.
She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath on his reply until she received it. She exhaled, then dashed into the downstairs bathroom to examine herself. She’d showered when she first got up to see if that would help jolt her awake, so her hair, though kind of a mess, was at least clean, as was the rest of her. But she definitely looked like she hadn’t slept last night. There were dark circles under her eyes and she didn’t have time to make herself look presentable.
With a sigh, she turned off the bathroom light and went to brew more coffee. She wondered if Flynn had eaten breakfast this morning. If not, she could—
He knocked at the door so she went to answer it. Her heart pounded as she took in the sight of him wearing a dark blue peacoat and black jeans. It was cold out this morning so she shut the door after him in a hurry.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. I made coffee. Take your coat off and come have some.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He wrapped his hands around the mug.
“It’s cloudy and cold outside today,” she said, feeling ridiculous for talking about the weather.
“Yeah. Looks like it could rain.”
At least he’d jumped all over the weather conversation. But since she’d started their fight, and he’d been nice enough to text her this morning, it was up to her to break the icy wall between them. “Flynn. About last night.”
“Yeah, about that. Look, Amelia. I’m really sorry. I assumed our relationship and that’s on me.”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had too much to drink, and then my mouth opened and everything awful came out. I did a lot of thinking and not sleeping last night and I came to the realization that I thought you were trying to control me. Which, by the way, you weren’t. I guess it was ghosts of the ex coming back to haunt me and I was being overly sensitive. Which, by the way, is no excuse. So I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line. Like . . . really out of line.”
Amelia confused him. “Okay. I’m . . . sorry?”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
It had been a long day. He was tired. He knew Amelia was probably tired, too, and this was the wrong damn time to have this conversation. But now he was irritated. “So because I called you my girlfriend I’ve pissed you off.”
“No . . . I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I’d just like to be asked once in a while instead of told.”
Flynn dragged his fingers through his hair and dragged in a deep breath, then let it out. “Okay, so you don’t want to be called my girlfriend. How about the woman I’m fucking?”
She leveled a glare at him. “Now, that was insulting.”
He widened his arms. “Then I don’t know how to talk about us, Amelia. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you, Flynn. We’re just going out. We’re having some fun together. Isn’t that enough? Why do we have to put labels on it? Why do you have to attach yourself to me? Or why can’t we talk about it before you announce that I’m your girlfriend? You don’t own me, you know.”
And now it was ownership. He had no idea how this conversation had taken such a wrong turn. He’d had enough and before things got ugly between them he needed to put a stop to it. “Okay, I think I should take you home.”
“That sounds like a really good idea.” She got up and grabbed her purse and headed toward the door, obviously as ready for some separation as he was.
They went outside and it was clear she didn’t want to be anywhere near him, because she shot around to the passenger side of the SUV in a hurry, so he didn’t even bother trying to go over there to open the door for her. Instead, he slid into the driver’s side.
The short drive to her place was made in tense silence. When he pulled in front of her house, Flynn struggled to say something, anything to break the tension between them. But Amelia unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door, apparently in a hurry to get away from him.
“Thanks for letting me come to the game today. I had a good time.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Good night, Flynn.” She shut the door and headed inside her house without even a backward glance.
He thought maybe the short drive would have cooled off her temper. He guessed not.
Fine. This wasn’t his fault. Calling Amelia his girlfriend wasn’t some kind of crime. He put the car in gear and headed home.
TWENTY-ONE
Amelia stared into her cup of coffee, looking for answers. Or maybe a cure for the raging headache that throbbed incessantly between her temples. Never again was she going to drink that much wine, because it obviously made her behave like a complete bitch.
She was so glad today was her day off, because if she had to go to work tonight it would be brutal.
She’d come home last night, tossed her purse on the sofa, then opened a bottle and had yet another glass, which had only ended up tasting sour to her. In the end, she’d gone to bed but had been unable to sleep, convinced she’d been in the right. Her subconscious, on the other hand, had other ideas. She’d lain awake for hours, unable to sleep while she’d replayed the conversation between Flynn and her.
So he’d called her his girlfriend. Why had that irritated her so much? She’d spent several hours staring at the dark ceiling of her bedroom last night trying to figure that out.
She’d been leery of relationships ever since her divorce. The last thing she’d wanted was to tumble into yet another relationship with a man who’d want to control her. So maybe Flynn’s labeling of her as his girlfriend triggered something that made her uncomfortable, and she hadn’t even realized it. Then, subconsciously, she’d lashed out at him for no reason at all. Because if there was one thing she knew, it was that Flynn was nothing like her ex-husband. He was kind and encouraging and not at all controlling.
She heaved a sigh, then took another sip of coffee.
She owed Flynn a huge apology. If he intended to ever speak to her again.
When her phone buzzed, she reached across the table to check it. Surprisingly, it was a text from Flynn.
Are you awake yet?
She smiled and texted back. Having coffee. What are you doing?
Just got home from taking Mia to the airport.
At least he was speaking to her. That was a good sign.
If you’re not busy, would you like to come by for coffee? She texted back to him, then waited, chewing on her bottom lip.
Be there in 10 mins.
She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath on his reply until she received it. She exhaled, then dashed into the downstairs bathroom to examine herself. She’d showered when she first got up to see if that would help jolt her awake, so her hair, though kind of a mess, was at least clean, as was the rest of her. But she definitely looked like she hadn’t slept last night. There were dark circles under her eyes and she didn’t have time to make herself look presentable.
With a sigh, she turned off the bathroom light and went to brew more coffee. She wondered if Flynn had eaten breakfast this morning. If not, she could—
He knocked at the door so she went to answer it. Her heart pounded as she took in the sight of him wearing a dark blue peacoat and black jeans. It was cold out this morning so she shut the door after him in a hurry.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. I made coffee. Take your coat off and come have some.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He wrapped his hands around the mug.
“It’s cloudy and cold outside today,” she said, feeling ridiculous for talking about the weather.
“Yeah. Looks like it could rain.”
At least he’d jumped all over the weather conversation. But since she’d started their fight, and he’d been nice enough to text her this morning, it was up to her to break the icy wall between them. “Flynn. About last night.”
“Yeah, about that. Look, Amelia. I’m really sorry. I assumed our relationship and that’s on me.”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had too much to drink, and then my mouth opened and everything awful came out. I did a lot of thinking and not sleeping last night and I came to the realization that I thought you were trying to control me. Which, by the way, you weren’t. I guess it was ghosts of the ex coming back to haunt me and I was being overly sensitive. Which, by the way, is no excuse. So I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line. Like . . . really out of line.”
