Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 392

Amelia liked to think of herself as someone with ironclad self-control. She could tell herself, quite confidently, that even if Daniel stood in front of her stark naked—broad shoulders, trim waist, sculpted abs—she’d keep her composure.

But this wasn’t that.

This was something else entirely.

It was the kind of moment where the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in a hush so intimate, she could hear both their heartbeats echoing in the stillness.

She was forced to meet his gaze, and though she wanted to say something, her mind went blank. After a few agonizing seconds, she managed only, “…Could you close your eyes?”

Daniel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in surprise, and then he laughed—an honest, unguarded laugh.

What was so funny? And why did he have to laugh like that—like some kind of wicked, gorgeous troublemaker?

Flustered, Amelia snapped, “Don’t laugh!”

“Oh? I’m not even allowed to laugh now?” He tapped her nose, grinning. “What are you, my warden?”

Annoyance prickled through her, mostly at herself for feeling so out of control. She turned away. “Just stop talking. One more word and this shoot is over.”

“All right, all right. I’ll be quiet. Your call.”

With her head turned, Amelia drew slow, deliberate breaths, repeating a silent mantra to calm her racing thoughts.

Don’t get swept away. Don’t lose control. Remember, after the divorce, he’s nothing to you.

His love is as fickle as the wind—never yours to keep.

If he loves you now, he’ll leave you just as easily.

Amelia, he’ll never love you forever.

Amelia, he never really loved you at all.

The words worked like a cold shower. When she finally looked back at him, her eyes were as steely as someone who’d spent ten years gutting fish at Walmart.

Daniel felt his romantic resolve nearly freeze over.

“Did you just get possessed for a minute there?” he joked.

If flirting were an Olympic sport, Daniel would be a gold medalist.

And with a face like his, he had every advantage.

“Amelia,” he murmured, his gaze like a whirlpool, threatening to pull her under, “give us a chance. Just like the first time we met in the church hall.”

That first meeting—love at first sight.

“Did you get what you needed? Want to try again?” he asked, hope flickering in his voice.

“No.”

She turned away, her pale face swallowed by the shadows. After a moment, she called out toward the studio doors, her voice steady, “We’re done. You can come in now.”