Forever Mine (ROYAL RIDERS SERIES BOOK #2)

23| Missed

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Missed

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Chapter 23: Missed (Amelia's POV)

I want to kiss him. Since I told him I still loved him, that's the only thought racing through my head. But I don't. He doesn't kiss me either. I think we're both just too hesitant. 

We don't know what this really means but we do realize there are still consequences. Right now, however, we're back at the hotel, and we're all packed and checking out and heading home. 

"Is uncle Mason staying in New York?" I asked. 

He nodded, mumbling, "It's okay," to the hotel driver and putting our luggage in the trunk himself before opening the door for me. I climb in and he sits beside me from the other side. "Airport, please," he said and then turned to me, "yeah, he's staying here for a few more days. He has some work to tend to. He grabs my hand as the taxi moves and he didn't let go until we reach the airport. 

Even then, he only let go when he had to. I watch him as we wait in a lounge until boarding is announced. 

"You really want to go back home." 

He looked at me. 

"Don't you?" 

He nodded. "Boston's my home, Amelia. Not New York." 

"Why do you think that?" I asked, hugging his arm and staring at him. 

He chuckled softly, facing me. "Because in New York, I lost everything. Including you. But in Boston, I found you again." 

I stare at him, unblinking. 

"Flight DL5603 from New York John F. Kennedy International airport to Boston Logan International airport is now boarding at gate three. Please report to gate three for boarding, thank you." The announcement was repeated once more and then we moved, heading back home. 

We boarded the flight and took our seats and I realized I was still clinging onto his arm. I attempted to pull away but he held on. 

"Don't you dare let go," he mumbled, resting his head on the seat. He seemed exhausted. 

"I won't. Go to sleep, Michael. I'll wake you up," I whispered.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

As we walk into his apartment, the exhaustion slowly wears off his face and forms into relaxation. He's so glad to be back in Boston. Away from New York, away from the haunting memories of his parents, away from all the pain he's ever felt. He lost his parents in New York. He lost me in New York too. But here, in Boston, he found happiness again in hockey. And I found him again too. 

We walk right to the kitchen where I take out a water bottle and make my way to him, offering it. He cracks it open and drinks some before screwing on the cap and putting it on the counter. He stares at me and he stares, stares, he stares. "We talked," he stated. 

I nodded softly, "Hmm. We did." 

"Now what?" He lifted a brow at me. 

"Now what?" I asked, genuinely confused. 

He stood up, trapping me between him and the counter. "Now what do I get to do with you, Ms. Amelia Hawthorne?" He comes closer and traces my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before proceeding to nudge my chin up using a knuckle. "Hmm?" He prompts.