22

She Is - The Fray

F riday 5:15 PM

I reread our texts and can't help but feel a bit embarrassed that I had to search up what ‘xx' meant.

She'd sent me kisses . It made me smile.

I'd thought long and hard about where I wanted to take her. I ended up opting for a small fancy diner about thirty-five minutes or so from Wattle Creek, in another small-ish town called Clifftop Haven, perched on a mountaintop. It's a stunning little joint they've got there. An old friend of mine from school, Jackson Hill, moved out there years ago and has been running his own orchard and livestock farm ever since. I've been meaning to catch up with him, but haven't for a while now.

I should.

I found out about this diner because a colleague from work, Grant, was raving about it after he went up there with his wife. I pestered him for the details, and here we are now. I get changed, throwing on a pair of jeans, a henley shirt, and my favourite denim jacket lined with sherpa. As I check myself in the mirror, I feel a mix of nerves and anticipation. Is this really a date? I hadn't thought of it that way, but now, as I think about it, it pretty much seems that way, doesn't it? Grabbing my keys and wallet, I head out of my room.

"Heading out," I call to Mum.

"Where to?" she pipes up from the couch, giving me a curious look.

"Out," I mumble, not wanting to go into detail.

As I head to my Navarra, I see Dad coming from around his car, wearing a tool belt and holding a hammer.

"Son," he says with a nod. I nod back.

"Where ya off to?" he asks as I unlock my car.

"Dinner. With a friend."

He gives me a once-over, then nods with a knowing look.

"Bout time," he mumbles, but I don't give much thought to what he means.

"Bye," I say, hopping into my ute.

I rock up to Amelia's house just shy of five thirty. I'm a man who's always on time.

I quickly send her a text to let her know I'm here, and a response comes shortly after, letting me know she's coming down. Stepping out, I round the car and lean against the passenger door, waiting. Then I see her. It's a sight that takes my breath away.

Amelia walks toward me, and fuck, she's stunning. She's wearing a yellow dress that falls just above her knees—the bodice is tight, like a vice, accentuating her small waist. Over the top, she has a thin cardigan, and on her feet are her usual white sneakers, that I've seen her wear countless times now.

She's a true beauty.

How I never noticed these things about her before is beyond me. Her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, catching the light just right. There's a hint of nervousness in her smile, but her eyes sparkle with excitement. She's got this way of looking at me, like she sees right through all my walls.

Fuck that. Deep down, I know I've always noticed.

"Hey," she says, a bit breathless as she reaches me.

"Hey. You look... beautiful," I reply, opening the passenger door for her. I'm almost speechless as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile radiant.

"Thank you. So do you!" she blurts quickly, then corrects herself, "I mean, not beautiful, but handsome. You look... good." She hides her face before hopping into the passenger seat.

I can't help but smile at her adorable awkwardness.

She really is something else.

A warm feeling settles in my chest as I shake my head, smiling to myself. Yeah, I really am just out here smiling to myself like an idiot.

We're driving with the radio playing softly, just the way I like it. I don't understand people who need their music blaring while they drive. Amelia sits quietly beside me, her phone occasionally pinging with a text message. I glance over at her without turning my head, watching her type away.

"Someone's popular tonight," I remark, breaking the comfortable silence. Because that's what it is.

Comfortable .

The air between us has shifted, changed. I no longer feel like an awkward pre-teen around a girl; I feel comfortable. I can only hope that she feels the same way.

She sighs. "Sorry, it's my work friends."

"Uh huh," I say, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Are they the same girls from the pub?" I ask, looking at her quickly .

"Yeah," she answers with a nervous smile. "I told them I was going out for dinner, and they're pestering me for details."

"Right. And did you tell them?" I ask.

"Tell them what?" she responds, and I glance over to find her eyes watching me with such an innocent expression. Fuck, she has those doll eyes. Not the sultry come-hither eyes. No, Amelia's brown orbs are wide open, warm and inviting.

"That you're going to dinner with me?" I say, my voice steady.

"Yes. But they won't say anything. I promise," she says quickly.

This makes me feel... odd. She makes it sound so forbidden. And while, yes, it's probably not the most ideal, given the situation with her being Liv's best friend and all, however, there really is nothing wrong with two friends hanging out. Right? I frown at the thought. Friends. We are friends, yes.

But is it enough? Can it be more?

"I don't mind," I reply, trying to keep my tone casual. I swear I hear her exhale, almost as if she's relieved to hear that.

We continue driving, the comfortable silence wrapping around us once more. As I focus on the road, my mind wanders to what this night might bring. Friends hanging out, sure, but something tells me this could be the start of something more. We reach the border, passing the sign that says Welcome to Wattle Creek, when Amelia softly asks.

"Uh, where are we even going?"

"You'll see soon." Amelia shifts slightly in her seat, glancing over at me.

"Are you always this mysterious?" she asks, a hint of teasing in her voice.

I smirk, keeping my eyes on the road. "Only when I need to be."

She laughs softly, and it's a sound that makes me smile. I like hearing her laugh. It's genuine, like everything about her.

The sun is beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden glow across the outback landscape. The sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, the light making everything look almost magical. I don't need my sun visor, but I notice Amelia squinting and raising her hand to block the sun.

Without thinking, I reach over and pull her visor down before returning my hand to my thigh, gripping the steering wheel with my other. As we pass through the small towns and open stretches of road, I steal glances at her. She's fiddling with the gold ring on her finger, a habit I've noticed before.

I wonder what she's thinking, if she's as nervous as I am. Maybe more. Maybe less. Her right hand rests beside her thigh, and I suddenly have the urge to grab it. To quell her nerves, if she's feeling them. But how do I do that without it coming off weird?

I mean, fuck, we've kissed twice, and it almost feels like we haven't. She's just so modest, and I'm, well, just me—not exactly the most exciting guy around. But damn, I want to be exciting for her. The way she makes me excited.

The landscape changes as we approach Clifftop Haven. The rolling hills give way to steeper inclines, and the road winds upward. I can feel the excitement building in me, a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Finally, we reach the restaurant; The Haven. It's a small little place, perched on the edge of a cliff, with a stunning view of the valley below. The lights from inside cast a warm, inviting glow, and I can see a few other cars parked outside. I pull into a spot and turn off the car.

She looks around, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is... wow. It's beautiful."

I smile, feeling a sense of pride. "Thought you'd like it."

Amelia nods, still taking in the view. "I more than like it, Bradley. This is amazing."

I step out of the car, circling around to open her door. "Glad you think so. Come, let's head inside."

The sound of our footsteps on the gravel mixes with the gentle evening breeze. As we enter, the warmth of the diner envelops us, along with the scent of home-cooked meals and coffee. The interior is quaint, with chequered tablecloths and old-fashioned diner booths. A waitress greets us with a smile.

"Table for two?"

I nod, and she leads us to a table by the window, overlooking the breathtaking view, offering us menus. We settle in, and I flick my eyes to Amelia, who is busy staring out the window, where the sunset catches the horizon, and just below the clifftop, the town of Clifftop Haven is lit up by house windows and streetlights.

This place feels like our own little world, where the only things that matter are the present moment and the person sitting across from you. Eventually, we both decide on our orders, and another waitress arrives in time to take our orders. Amelia orders the chicken parmigiana with a salad, and I order the T-bone steak, medium-rare, with a side of mashed potatoes and chips.

Yeah, I like my carbs.

I can't be too lean for work, so I make sure I'm eating a more than sufficient amount of red meat and carbs to maintain my physique. She gives me a curious glance, before smirking, and I just know she's thinking what I am, no doubt. The waitress lingers for a moment, and I feel her eyes on me, but I avoid her gaze.

Clearing my throat, I say, "That'll be all. Thanks," before handing her back the menus.

Amelia wastes no time diving into conversation as we wait for our food to arrive. I know she's nervous because she's rambling.

"So, I have a sister," she begins, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Her name's Kathryn, but I call her ‘Kat.' She's eight years older, lives in Sydney with her husband, and they have a daughter—named after me, actually." She laughs softly, a nervous edge to her voice. "It's kind of surreal, you know? To have a little niece named after you."

"Are you close with your sister, even though she moved away?" I ask, trying to keep my tone casual, though Amelia's mention of her family stirs something deep within me.

"Oh, so close. Have been since I was born," she replies warmly. "I'm really close with her husband, John, as well. He's great. You'd get along well with him, I think."

Her words strike a chord. It's as if she sees a future where we're more intertwined, where meeting her family isn't just a passing thought, but a possibility. For someone like me, who's kept people at arm's length, it's both comforting and unsettling.

"Family means a lot to you, huh?" I say, noting the warmth in her eyes.

Amelia nods. "Yeah, they're everything to me. Kat has always been like a second mum to me."

Her sincerity softens my gruff exterior. I find myself drawn to her openness, her willingness to share these personal details with me. It's a side of her that makes me want to know more, to understand what makes her tick beyond the surface.

One particular fact seems to be lingering, however. A stark reminder as I calculate silently. I realise Amelia must be around twenty-four. Literally my sister's age. This isn't news to me, more like something I just chose to ignore.

I'm pushing thirty, and she seems so... youthful, full of life. What could she possibly see in a guy like me?

"So, you're twenty-four, then?" I manage to ask, my voice attempting nonchalance.

"Yeah," Amelia replies, her tone soft, tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Turning twenty-five in July. A quarter of a century old," she adds, a small smile playing on her lips.

I watch her closely, taking in the way she holds herself, the subtle movements of her hands as she speaks. Before I can delve deeper into my thoughts or say anything more, the waitress interrupts, her presence jarring in its closeness .

"Can I get y'all something to drink?"

The waitress's hand lands on my shoulder, and I subtly shift away, feeling the weight of her touch linger. Amelia's eyes track the interaction with a fixed intensity, her gaze unwavering. Ignoring the waitress, I turn to Amelia, a flicker of amusement in my eyes as I ask what she wants to drink.

Her cheeks flush, and she hesitates for a moment.

"Um, I'll just have a glass of rosé," she murmurs softly, glancing briefly at the waitress and then back at me.

Keeping my focus on Amelia, I reply casually, "Corona for me, thanks." The waitress scurries off hastily.

"Well, she wasn't subtle at all," she comments, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"What do you mean?" I inquire.

"That waitress." She gestures toward where the waitress disappeared. "She was flirting with you."

I meet her gaze squarely. "Was she now? Didn't even notice."

Amelia's cheeks deepen in colour, but a small smile plays on her lips. "Really? It seemed pretty obvious to me." I smirk in response.

"Hm. Guess I was too busy looking at someone else," I say, accompanied by a playful wink in her direction.

She shakes her head, laughter bubbling up lightly. The tension eases between us, and we slip into an easy rhythm of conversation. As we talk, I find myself captivated by her presence, content just to listen to her voice for hours.

"So, how was your day at work yesterday?" I ask, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Amelia smiles, a playful glint in her eyes before she giggles.

I raise an eyebrow, curious. "What's funny?"

She leans in closer, shaking her head. "My day was… interesting. Quite funny, actually, now that I think it over. There's this group of girls, troublemakers, at my school. They're known to be quite bratty, and they, uh, well, they tried to intimidate me today during my lunch duty."

My eyes widen with surprise as I listen intently. "Intimidate you? How?"

Amelia leans back, recounting the incident with animated gestures. "They were teasing me, calling me a loner, and questioning why you would even bother with someone like me."

I'm baffled.

"Are you serious? But that was what, a while ago? And that came from year six kids?"

The thought actually bothers me, as weird as it may sound. The fact that young children are pestering her about me, teasing her. That's wild.

"Yep. But I put them in their place." She shrugs. "You should have seen their faces. I'm actually really proud of how I handled it. Usually the older kids make me nervous, but not then."

"Good on you. I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself. Kids these days, huh? That's crazy," I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

Amelia chuckles softly, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Yeah, who knew I'd have to fend off interrogations from pre-teens?" She grins .

"Well, you handled it like a pro."

"Thank you," she says, her smile turning sincere.

As we sit there, the restaurant buzzes around us, but our conversation stays focused and intimate. I find myself admiring Amelia even more, not just for her dedication to her work, but also for her grit in handling unexpected challenges.

Amelia leans forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "So, how was your day at work yesterday?" she asks, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

I exhale with a sigh, contemplating her question with mock seriousness. "Work was..." I pause, then shrug nonchalantly, "fine."

She eyes me closely. "Just fine?"

I chuckle softly, running a hand through my hair. "Yep, just fine. Sounds like your day had more excitement than mine," I say with a grin.

Opening up about my day isn't something I typically do, especially not in detail, but with Amelia, it feels different. It feels easy, like talking to an old friend who can appreciate a good joke.

"But seriously, I'm certain your day was more interesting," she says.

"Not really. I was on highway patrol most of the day with my partner Daniels." She nods, recognizing the name.

"Did you pull over many people?"

I smirk, feeling comfortable enough to share more. "Yeah, a few. Speeding mostly. You'd be surprised how many people think they can get away with it." I pause, shaking my head. "One guy was doing over a hundred in a sixty zone. Claimed he didn't see the sign."

She laughs softly, her eyes sparkling with interest. "And what did you say to that?"

"I told him that the sign wasn't the only thing he missed," I reply with a smile. "He wasn't too happy about the ticket."

She smiles, leaning in closer. "Must be interesting, seeing all kinds of people on the job."

"It is. You get the full spectrum—from genuine mistakes to people just being plain reckless. It's a mix of frustration and fascination. Keeps me on my toes."

It's not like me to have conversations about my day, or work in general, but I find myself freely opening up to Amelia.

It feels... natural.

Without hesitation, I answer, "I like the hands-on stuff, anything that requires my full attention. As a Senior Constable with the NSW Police, I usually lead the boys on bigger operations. I handle everything from organising raids to coordinating with other units."

I glance at her, noting the awe in her expression. "Even though I'm up in the ranks, I still like to get out on the field with Daniels for general duties. There's something about the adrenaline, the strategy... I enjoy the thrill of it all. Keeps me sharp."

Her genuine interest catches me off guard. Most people either nod politely or change the subject, but she's different. She actually cares about what I do, about who I am.

Feeling this kind of connection so soon is so unexpected for me, but it's also refreshing. It makes me want to open up and share more with her.

"Can you see yourself doing that for the rest of your life?" she asks, her curiosity evident.

"You mean being a police officer?" I raise an eyebrow.

She smiles, the kind without showing teeth, the kind that reaches the eyes. "Sorry, I meant being a Senior Constable."

I chuckle softly. "To move up in the ranks from this position, I'd need to be awarded a promotion. That would place me as Sergeant. So, I wouldn't be out in the field as much. I'd be working with a logistics team and coordinating things from behind the scenes."

She tilts her head slightly, clearly intrigued. "Do you think you'd like that?"

I pause, considering her question. "It'd be different. Less action, more strategy. But who knows? I might actually enjoy the change. It's all part of the job, right?"

She nods thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving mine. "I think you'd be great at it, no matter what you do."

Just as the moment lingers, the waitress arrives with our plates of food. Amelia's eyes light up at the sight, her excitement contagious. She's so cute.

She politely thanks the waitress, and I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"You must have some incredible stories," she says, her voice tinged with wonder.

"Yeah, there are a few. Maybe I'll tell you some of them one day."

"I'd like that," she replies softly .

As we start eating, I watch her, fascinated by the way she immerses herself in the moment. She seems to savour every bite, her eyes twinkling with delight. It's these little things that draw me closer to her.

At this moment in time, I realise just how much I want to spend more time with her.

There's something about Amelia that feels right, like she fits perfectly into my life in a way I hadn't anticipated.