Amelia stares at me, unblinking, while conjuring up the perfect answer to my question. “I … I don’t know.”
Asking that question was dumb.
We were having a good night.
But sometimes, you have to ask the shit that hurts.
And my brat sister’s words are in my mind.
“You’d better figure it out before you lose her a second time.”
“Are we just waiting it out … to eventually break apart when we fizzle out, or are we really going to try this?” I swivel in my stool to capture every emotion that flashes across her face.
She’s quiet.
I swallow. “Amelia, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, and the room falls quiet. “We need more time.”
“That’s fine.”
“Let’s give it a month.”
I nod. “A month, and we’ll see where we’re at.”
A month.
Thirty days for us to decide where our hearts are and where they will go.
Thirty days to find out if this is only sex … or something real.