AMELIA

My eyes partly open, descending on his lips, his tongue sweeping over them. It takes everything in me not to taste them. Maybe it's better with my eyes closed.

"If I answer, you'll also answer my question," he bargains.

"Or we can make a truce," I offer, and he exhales a small chuckle.

"What kind of truce?" he asks curiously.

"One where we never fight again," I say nervously.

He pulls back, putting an inch between our faces. My eyes open, and a breath I didn't know I was holding slips out.

"You won't get mad at me anymore?" His brows furrow, but excitement lights up his features. "You're offering that?"

I nod, and he smiles, the kind that makes him appear innocent. I can't stop my hand from reaching his jaw. I catch the surprise in his eyes at it too, his lips parted slightly but he didn't say anything more. He smiles small.

"So, we can touch?" he bites his lip. I wonder if it hurts with the wound there.

"There will be boundaries for Jake's sake," I tell him.

He nods, repeatedly agreeing he's aware. "Of course, you make the rules. I will follow," he beams, suddenly lovely.

"Cool," I smile, and he leans his face into my palm. If stars had a taste, this is what it would feel like-just him, staring at me with all the admiration I never thought existed. I was no one, but he looked at me like the prize of a dream he desperately desired.

It feels good.

"Now your turn," I remind him. He sighs, chewing his lip. "Do you go see your mother?"

"I don't," he breathes.

"Why?"

"That's two questions," he reminds me.

Pouting, I frown. "Come on, just one, and I won't ask again."

He sighs again but smiles and nods. "After what happened, there was no access. I was little, and now, I just can't look at her. Amy, please don't ask more," he says the last part solemnly. I read in his eyes his patience is worn. Now, I feel bad for insisting on the topic.

"Okay, I won't ask again," I exhale, and he smiles, his arms swaddling me into a hug. The intense scent of him consumes me, better than oxygen.

"The latte has probably turned cold," he announces.

"Oh, shoot," I let go of him too quickly before I even get to bask in the comfort and turn.

Yup, the latte was ready for a while.

I laugh, feeling my cheeks heating.

"I'll make you another."

"No, I'll take that. Make yourself a new one," he suggests, snatching the cup and stepping back to lean against the island before I can stop him from being too much of a gentleman.

"You sure?" I ask, and he nods as he takes a sip.

"It's perfect," he gestures with his thumb and index finger.

"If you say so," I shrug and set down my cup.

"You know, it would be cool if you take the babysitting job."

"At Harper's?" I scoff with my back turned to him. We were just having a good time, and he decided to ruin it.

"I'll never let you be in a position where you'll feel bad. Just listen to me on this. Please, Amy, the job is easy and I-" He doesn't finish when Mom's voice comes up. "What job?" she asks, and I turn to find her coming into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Penelope," Cam starts, but the change in her behavior toward him is obvious. She only smiles with a tight lip and walks over to me.

So judgmental of her.

"Cam just offered me a new job at his friend's," I tell her, and she hums, nodding and comes over, snatching my latte from my hand.

Just great. Now I have to make another cup for the third time.

"Honey, you have enough in your savings. You don't need a job," she says, shocking me. My mouth drops open.

Just recently, she was insisting I find a job, but now she's against it because it's Cam who is offering, and she has suddenly come to dislike him overnight after he laid down all this story.

This is embarrassing, I swear. I can't believe her. I am sure he can discern her demeanor.

Damn, I hate to do this, but she made me do it. "I am taking it anyway. I need to make extra without having to ask you for help," I tell her, and she looks all triggered.

"O-kay," she drawls with warning eyes and circles back to the counter stools.

"I can cook something for you," Cam suggests for Mom as she takes a seat, clearly trying to be polite.

"No, I do not eat when I have a fight. Thank you," she rejects, and he smiles at her.

"You'll be my Uber," I walk over to him and nudge his side, calling his attention. He looks over.

"Really?" He mouths with large eyes, and I wriggle my brows, biting my lip.

"I'll settle for a real breakfast since I won't be going anywhere," I tell him, deliberately sneering at Mom, and you can see fumes wafting from her nose. I look back up at Cam to spite her, and his eyes are lit up.