Forever Mine (ROYAL RIDERS SERIES BOOK #2)

33| Paparazzi

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Paparazzi

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Chapter 33: Paparazzi (Amelia's POV)

"It's midnight," I whispered while he fiddled with my hands, tracing my knuckles and fingers, his touch trailing up my bare arm. 

"It's actually twelve-forty-five," he chuckled, kissing my shoulder. 

"Why aren't we sleeping?" 

"Because we don't have to nor do we want to," he replied. 

I rolled onto my side, facing him now and mirroring his position. "Cameron went for another ultrasound today." 

"And?" 

"Everything's okay." 

"That's good... So, correct me if I'm wrong, Jacob's younger brother is that guy, right? The one from the law firm party?" 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"I don't like him," he shrugged nonchalantly. 

I blinked, staring at him. "You don't have to. But he is my friend, Michael, that's not going to change." 

"I know. I'm just saying I don't like him. I like his brother much more." 

I hummed, "Well, Josh doesn't come around that much, actually. He doesn't come to see Jacob or Cam or our parents. His parents are back in New York, he does a lot of back and forth to see them. And I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend in New York he isn't telling anyone about." 

"Why do you think that?" 

I shrugged softly. "He takes my suggestions when he goes shopping. He goes shopping before every trip to buy things for his parents but the clothes and jewelry he buys seem more like they're for a girl rather than his mother." 

"What kind of clothes?" 

"Lingerie." 

He stared at me, going numb and pale. 

I laughed, "I'm joking." 

He rolled his eyes, moving onto his back. 

"Aww, did I upset you? Sorry, sorry." I moved closer, resting my head on his arm that was pillowed me. "Just dresses, Michael. They're not dresses his mother would wear. They're dresses a girl our age would wear, that's all. Who knows, maybe his mother has a different sense of style. Who cares? I don't. Neither should you," I sighed, closing my eyes. When he didn't reply, I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Are you jealous?" I asked incredulously, biting back a snort. 

"No. He didn't act a certain way when I met him." 

"Exactly. But you did," I teased. "You were jealous." 

"I was not." 

"You so were, don't be ridiculous. You literally told me to ditch him and spend my time at the party with you." 

"You are my assistant." 

I lifted a brow when he faced me. "And? That somehow meant I had to spend every minute of my time with you?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Because you were my assistant, Amelia." 

"So? Why does that—" 

"Because you were my assistant, Amelia Hawthorne. It was you."