I am working hard to bring you Amara’s story to you. For now, here’s a taste of what’s to come.
“Did I say something wrong? You look like you’re clamming up.”
“Yes. It’s always that way. You played shy and aloof.”
“I’m not playing at anything, Noah.”
“Maybe I should call it peek-a-boo.”
I laugh, my curls falling in my eyes. That was a cute way of putting it.
“See. You’ve come out again because I see you, Amara.”
My laughter died. And then we just stared at each other, the tension crackling between us like it always did, making it clear that no matter how long it’s been, this thing that we have will never die. Not even over business talk. But it was wrong. I’m not available to him that way anymore. I shouldn’t be. And I didn’t need my heart broken again either.
I brushed my hair away from my face, making it neat again.
“It’s not right, Noah.”
“This is why I retreat and you know it.”
“I know the reason. But I don’t like it.”
“So you think we can work on this project?”
“Why wouldn’t we be able to?”
“Because if you hold back, it’s in my nature to pull you out. And you’re going to hold back, Amara. I know it. I feel it now.”
“I know that.”
“And you’re still in?” His thick dark brow raised in question.
“Yes,” I said confidently, although I admit, my gut instinct had been in direct opposition with my intellect for a week since I called him. It must know something, something I refuse to admit. That by contacting him, I was bringing back the spark I tried so hard to dim for the past two years.