Just a Number(116)

Alan’s eyes hold mine. “I’m still pissed at you—both of you—for lying to me, but I simply can’t ignore just how happy the two of you have been these past couple months.” His gaze drifts to Amelia. “How could I deny you that? It wouldn’t be fair…to either of you.”

Amelia sets her fork down. “Daddy, it really wasn’t planned.”

“Amy,” Alan begins, closing his eyes as though to block out something. “I don’t need the details.”

“And I’m not about to give them to you,” she continues. “All I’m trying to say is that we didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did…and we’re both so happy you’re not going to shut us out.”

Alan inhales deeply. “I’m still not all the way there,” he explains, “but after talking to you, your mother, and Carla, I understand how irrationally I’ve been acting.”

“No,” she interjects. “You had every right to feel the way you did, and we both feel awful for keeping something this important from you for so long. We just…we got carried away, and with every day that passed, our fear of what you might think became more prominent.”

Alan looks at me again. “You love her?”

I glance toward Amelia as she smiles, and I take her hand in mine. “More than anything,” I reply.

He seems surprisingly okay with my answer for about a half second before he lifts his fork in my direction. “So help me God, Owen, if you hurt her, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

His words, even beneath the threat I plan to take seriously, are all the acceptance one could ask for. He’s acting like Amelia’s father again, addressing me in the same way he would any male suitor. This, in itself, is a huge deal, because he’s acknowledging me as a serious presence in her life.

Something tells me that everything between us will eventually return to normal.





30. Do What U Want



“WHAT?” I shout, trying to be heard over the loud club music.

Liz leans forward across the table after taking a sip of her cocktail. “I asked if Owen was coming,” she repeats.

All I can do is shrug, because I honestly have no idea. He told me he would try, but I know how busy he’s been with work, so I’m not holding my breath. He did offer to pick me up afterward if I needed a ride. I would probably take him up on that, because I could only imagine the fun we might have in my drunken state…as long as I don’t overdo it. That’s always a possibility when I’m out with Liz. Matt’s here, too, but he’s not paying attention to anyone but Liz; if she’s not careful, he might just drool all over that expensive new shirt she bought for tonight.

“Well, did he say he was coming?” she asks.

“Is who coming?” a deep voice says behind me. Excited that he’s finally arrived, I turn to greet Justin, one of my oldest friends.

“You made it!” I exclaim, jumping off my stool and throwing my arms around him. It’s been months since we’ve seen each other; apparently going to college in another state makes hanging out with your friends almost impossible. “Where’s Caleb?”

Justin turns his head and nods toward the bar. “Buying a round for you guys. It’s our way of apologizing for being late.” Taking me by both hands, Justin takes a step back and appraises me. “Damn, you’re looking good, Amy.”

My cheeks warm, and I’m thankful for the poor nightclub lighting. “Thanks.”

“I seem to recall never being able to get you into a skirt that short.”

I glance down at my outfit; I had just bought the short leather skirt the day before, and I chose to pair it with a flowy, low-cut tank top. On my feet, a tall pair of black leather boots.

“Something tells me you didn’t wear that for Liz.” Caleb shows up just then, kissing Justin. “And I sure as hell know you’re not trying to impress me.” He pauses, his lips quirking up into a knowing smirk. “Who is he?”

It had been so long since Justin and I spoke that telling him about Owen hadn’t happened. Now that the opportunity to do so is right in front of me, I’m nervous. Why? I don’t know. Everyone else knows—especially the ones who really matter: my parents and Owen’s ex—so why the panic?

Judgment. Turns out, I am still afraid of my friends judging me, regardless of how happy I obviously am.

But I have to do it. I love Owen and he loves me, and I decided that outside opinions wouldn’t matter when we entered into this relationship. I owe our relationship this.

“I’m seeing Owen,” I tell him matter-of-factly.