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Look, let’s just—
Her phone rang before she could finish compiling the text. She flung it away as if it had burned her. And hadn’t it? Hadn’t he? It fell to the floor with a thud. The ringing persisted. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, leaning her cheek on the tops of her knees. A tear slipped down, soaking into her pajamas. Finally, the phone went silent. A text came through seconds later. She waited a few minutes before crawling across her bed and leaning over the edge to retrieve it.
I’m sorry, Amelia. I really am.
For ignoring her in college? For leaving? For kissing her tonight and then pointing out her weaknesses in a text message just hours later? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She took a shuddering breath, struggling for calm. They were going at each other like a couple of high school kids. There were bigger things at stake than her feelings, than some stupid kiss.
I am too. No worries. We were just caught up in the moment. Because of the engagement and all. You just focus on Izzie and let me know if I can help in any way.
She turned off her phone before he could respond and flopped back in bed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Creed lay in the dark, listening to the phone ring, willing her to pick up. Why he had texted her in the first place—when it was so late—he couldn’t say, other than he wanted to recapture their moments in the car.
To know that Hailey—his past mistakes—wouldn’t ruin everything again.
But then she had thrown in that word—friend.
He knew better than to fight with her, to jab low where she was most vulnerable.
But he did it anyway. He acted in emotional desperation like some teenage girl. He felt her slipping away and lashed out, only to be reminded—once again—that he wasn’t good enough for someone like her. And it was exactly what he had done before. Only back then, he had kissed her out of desperation…
Creed had been in a foul mood since the prom.
Where he might have had moments over the years of finding Amelia attractive, he had always been able to overcome them. Until now.
Now he couldn’t get her out of his head. Couldn’t help but think back on years of platonic hugs, late night movie trips, bike rides, summer nights, winter days…their friendship had gone from saving grace to torture. Especially now that he was on her “team”.
Amelia, completely unaware of his feelings, rattled on and on about what she wanted in a husband:
“Smart.”
“Funny. He has to have a good sense of humor.”
“He has to be serious, though.”
“A man after God’s own heart. Someone that I can work alongside for God’s kingdom. I want us to make a difference together…”
Every new addition to her list proved that he was all wrong for her.
After graduation, Creed found himself avoiding Amelia more and more. She was so focused on her summer job and upcoming move to college that he didn’t think she noticed.
He spent the summer torn between the ache of needing to be near her and the pain that sliced through him when he was.
They spent a day at the reservoir the week before Amelia moved away. She had scored a job on campus and would report two weeks before classes started. The thought of her actually leaving weighed heavily, settling like a hot rock in his chest. They parked his truck and strode down the dock, both thankful to have the place to themselves.
Creed averted his eyes when Amelia stripped off her shorts and t-shirt and jumped in the water. For all the times he had appreciated women in bikinis over the years, leaving nothing to the imagination, Creed thought the sight of Amelia’s slender form in the modest black and white polka-dot one piece would be his undoing. She drove him crazy. And she had no idea.
She turned to him with some smart challenge, treading water. Creed shook his head, a smile curling his lips. He didn’t want to waste another minute moping over Amelia Howard.
He wanted to make the most of his time with her.
He dove in after her, a spark of mischief firing through him.
Resurfacing behind her, Creed popped up just enough to gauge the distance and hear her squeal. He dove under again. Her legs kicked at him. He slid his hand up her ankle, calf, then hip, digging his fingers into her side. Bubbles of laughter released in front of his face as he felt her stomach muscles clench and twist. He let go and burst through the surface, coughing when she shoved a handful of water in his face. Creed swished around her in the water to give her a bear hug from behind. He held her there, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, and leaned back. She squirmed for a moment, giggling when he dug his chin into where her shoulder met the base of her neck—her secret tickle spot. Finally, spent, she rested her hands on his arms, breathing hard, relaxing into him. Together they kicked toward the shore. When he felt they were only chest deep, Creed lowered his feet and planted them in the sand, easing his grip. She turned to face him, her smile crinkling her eyes into narrow slits.
Their breath came hard and fast from the swim. Water spiked her lashes, dripped down her cheeks. Her hair was smoothed back, but the ends swirled in the water beneath the surface, tickling his arms. Amelia laughed. He didn’t remember releasing her arms, didn’t know how her wrists were suddenly on his shoulders, her palms on the sides of his neck, her fingers spread into the hair at his nape. Didn’t know when the laughter dissolved from her eyes.
Didn’t know how long he’d been staring at those lips.
Didn’t know how he had ached to hold her in his arms since their dance weeks ago.
He didn’t know anything beyond his need to kiss her. To hold her close and kiss all ideas of waiting for some perfect man right out of her pretty head.
And from the look in her eyes, Creed had a feeling Amelia might not refuse such a notion.
He licked his lips and drew closer. His breath broke off at the feel of hers on his cheek. Heat that had nothing to do with the summer day charged between them. His lips hummed as he drew near, within seconds of brushing against hers.
Time stood still for a fraction of a second and then he closed the distance—or was it her? No matter. Their lips met, trembling, careful. Familiar. How was this so stinking familiar? He felt like he had entered a place he had been before hundreds of times in his dreams, only the reality was infinitely better.
Her lips were like coming home. She was like coming home. Always would be. This was Amelia. His Amelia.
She broke the kiss softly, pulling her head back, her mouth hanging on as long it could until the distance broke contact. But his own buzzed, unsatisfied. He quickly reclaimed her mouth, cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her wet hair. Amelia leaned into him, giving into the kiss more forcefully. His heart pounded. He soared. He would follow her to—
But then she was reeling back, pulling away, forcing a laugh.
“Whoa, that’s not quite on plan, is it?” her voice was high, pinched.
Creed’s arms already ached without her in them. His lips were sore, hers swollen. Desperation swept through him and he longed to pull her back, convince her to stay, to forget her stupid oath, to—
But the vulnerable look in her eyes stopped him cold. Creed raked his hands back through his hair in frustration.
“You know, Amelia, you can’t plan everything. Especially not this.” He wagged two fingers between them.
Her nostrils flared, her chin rose a fraction. “Maybe I don’t want some end-of-summer fling, Creed.”
“That’s not what—“
“Because I’ve watched it, Williams. I’ve seen you with plenty of girls and it’s always the same. Some quick fling that means nothing to you.”
She had him there, but this was different. She had to know—
“Do you have any idea how many girls have come crying to me after a few weeks with Creed Williams? Or Carter Adams or Vince Rodgers for that matter? It’s the same story over and over and I’m sorry if I want more than that.” Her eyes flashed. “I’m sorry if you’ve run out of summer romances, Creed, but I have no interest in being the last option at the bottom of your empty barrel.”
She turned and swam toward the dock.
Creed stared after her, heart pounding from her words, body still humming from the heated kiss. She was right, of course. Because she had no idea how he felt. Would it make a difference to tell her? And to what end? They were heading to schools in different states. She had her list, her plans…her team. He wondered for the first time who else was on it and how they would advise her where he was concerned. He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that one: run!
Creed watched Amelia towel off and sit on the dock. She pulled her phone from her bag and texted someone. It was as if she could read his thoughts.
His jaw clenched. Someone on her team? Was she telling of her moment of weakness? He should grab the phone and vouch for her. Convince whomever it was that she remained strong, the purity of her convictions intact.
No, Creed couldn’t tell her how he felt. Could never tell her. After all, Amelia had her plans and he knew full well he didn’t fit into them.
Months later, he had thrown himself completely into the college experience. He dated and kissed a few girls. Nothing compared to those minutes at the reservoir. He went further and further, seeking the same thrill he had felt in her embrace, until…he knew he had blown his chances with Amelia completely.
Wasn’t that one of the things at the top of her list? A virgin. She dreamt of a special wedding night where she and her husband shared kisses and embraces that had been saved for each other.
His heart clenched when he received her first letter. He ripped it open drinking in her words hungrily.
“Maybe I was wrong, Creed. Is there any reason you can’t be on my team and be the man I’m praying for at the same time?”
Yes, there was a reason. He crumpled the paper, chucked it across the room with a growl. How could he tell her she had been right? He was the same as he always was, chasing women, charging ahead without thought. He could not be that man for her. She deserved more. So much more.
Letters continued to come periodically over the next few years. He always read them hungrily, with a sick sort of ache. She had met someone; they were talking engagement. Then, his sophomore year a letter came telling him of her broken heart, of the nasty things her boyfriend’s mother had said to her. He longed to write back or call. But to what end? He found the box of letters he had saved over the years, reread them all before he tucked the latest one away.
His phone buzzed. A text from a pretty coed in his philosophy class. Hailey something.
Hey Creed. Want to get together to study? Or not. Wink, wink. Let me know.
He stared blankly at the screen for a moment before taking a deep breath and tapping out a response.
Sounds fun. What time?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Is it true, Lord, that I have been hiding from relationships? That making decisions for my future husband wasn’t about him at all, but about protecting myself? Maybe my disappointment at losing Creed all those years ago affected me more than I realized. Help me to rely on You and You alone. Guide me, please. I want to honor You.
Amelia had risen earlier than usual and spent an hour reading through the Psalms and writing in her journal. It had been a long time since she stopped to dig deep for purposeful soul-searching. She had woken numerous times in the night in a panic, terrified that the kiss—and fight—had ruined her relationship with Creed. She clutched at her covers and drank in deep breaths until her breathing returned to normal. Every time she would remember Creed’s hands on her shoulders, the wall of his chest firm and steady behind her while Chad and Lucy thanked their families for their support. It was natural and good.
But then everything seemed to have shattered. Her stomach twisted in disgust. Izzie was what mattered in this scenario, not her feeble emotions. Why was she so afraid?
Because once again, her heart was in his hands and she didn’t trust him to be careful.
Once again she let her heart turn from the Lord for fulfillment and to a fallible human being.
The truth hurt.
She had finally given up and ripped the comforter off of her bed, wrapping it around her to ward of the morning chill. She shuffled downstairs into the living room to curl up in her high wingback chair, not bothering to make coffee. A memory of Lucy crying herself to sleep night after night at Amelia’s apartment in the days after her husband had left surfaced.
It was followed by the way C.B. had so formally broken things off with her while giving her a list of all the reasons she wouldn’t make an acceptable partner.
But most of all, she remembered the despondent way she had gone through the motions her first semester in college. So lost without Creed’s friendship, so lonely for what they had been to each other.
For the first-time, Amelia saw with alarming clarity that after college, her years of wanting to be an honorable woman had transformed into a shield; a way in which she could live and protect herself from the sorrow that Lucy experienced.
But it was more than that, of course. Creed’s silence when he moved away had rocked her more than she had been willing to admit. She had entered blindly into a relationship with some guy she wasn’t very compatible with. It was by the grace of God that C.B. had seen that. Not that it took the sting of rejection away. But that had not compared to what she felt now, on the precipice of losing Creed. Here he was back in her life and she opened herself to him without question. Where she had been guarded with all others, Creed had been the exception. The only exception.
She remembered how Aaron had approached her the night before. How quickly she had backpedaled when he asked her to coffee. Remembered, too the ways other men might have shown interest over the years. In rapid-fire succession the numerous ways that she had given any man who might have shown interest in dating her the impression that she was married came to mind. And it had worked. Her closed responses, refusal to carry conversations that could lead to something more had shut men off immediately. The few that had tried to get to know her had quickly backed off.
Except for Creed.
He already knew her, had seen through her façade, whether he realized it or not. No wonder she was a stuttering mess around him for so long. He had reached into the depths of her seclusion and ripped her right out into the world of the living.
She looked back down at her journal, warmed and alarmed at once. She continued to write, pouring out her heart and asking the Lord to search out all of her fear and confusion so that she could offer it up to Him to be obliterated. After a long while, Amelia set her journal and Bible aside to stretch and finally make breakfast. The sun shone brightly through the windows, brighter than she had expected. The clock on her phone showed Amelia that she was too late to get ready for church.
She was relieved, not at all ready to face Creed.
She made an egg scramble out of veggies she found in her fridge. She only had one egg left and no bread. A peek in the coffee canister reminded her that she was out of that as well. Running out of coffee was not going to fly after her long night.
She finished breakfast and showered quickly, drying her hair, but not bothering to style it. She made a quick run to the grocery store for the basics, remembering when she ran into Creed and raced him through the store.
Amelia treated herself to a coffee from her favorite drive-thru, ordering the same caramel mocha that Creed had brought for her. She inhaled the sweet fragrance, her heart hammering with the memory of his kiss last night. Her lips burned. Was there such a thing as phantom kisses?
No matter how resolved she was, the more awake she felt, the more scenes from the evening before—before Hailey arrived, before they argued—assaulted her senses.
She had just put her groceries away when the phone rang. Had Creed been thinking of her, too?
She found the cell in her purse, but frowned when a number she didn’t recognize flashed on the screen.
She swiped the arrow on the screen to “answer.”
“Hello?”
“Amelia, this is Dan Laird with Pepperville Elementary.”
“Yes?” One of the schools she had applied to. She glanced around for her schedule book.
“I know how odd it is to call on a Sunday. I apologize. I am calling to schedule an interview for next week if you’re still available.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how great that sounds. Just name the time.” She spotted her planner on the kitchen island and walked across the room to grab it.
A pause. Papers rustled in the background. “How about tomorrow at ten?”
“Perfect,” she answered, making a note in the planner.
“I have to say, based on your resume and references we already think you’ll be a good fit. The interview is really more of a formality.”
“That sounds great, Mr. Laird. I look forward to meeting you.”
“Please, call me Dan. And, yes, I’m looking forward to it as well. See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Bye.”
The line went dead and Amelia dropped her hand, still holding the phone on her lap. She sat quietly for a moment, then took a deep breath and tapped out a text:
Can we just go back to the way things were? she typed, hoping deep in her heart that he would say no. That he needed her. Wanted her. That they could figure it out and work through the hurdles that faced them.
Her phone rang almost instantly, startling her. This time she recognized Creed’s number.
She took a deep breath. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She could tell he was smiling. “We didn’t see you at church.”
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep great.”
“I’m sorry, Amelia.”
“It’s okay. And I’m sorry, too. I wonder if we were just caught up, you know?” Hearing his voice, she realized that she would rather have a friendship with Creed than nothing at all.
