Page 68 of Never Date a Celebrity

“Are you taking the piss?” Piper almost dropped the glass she was holding but managed to catch it before it slipped. “You just found the golden ticket, Charlie.”

“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” Niamh explained.

“I wasn’t born in a field,” Imogen said—even she got that reference. “And there’s no golden ticket. No way am I going to any party. When I see Amy, I’m going to have to reiterate the rules of our arrangement.” She winced at her own words and looked at Piper and Niamh who were also wincing. “I know, I just heard myself. I take it back.” She didn’t really think of dating Amy as an arrangement. But Amy had to realise that she was pushing the boundaries of what they’d agreed on by extending that invitation. Was she not happy with how things were after all? Amy had been the one to suggest it, but it was only natural that she would want more. Imogen suddenly felt sick.

“I’m sure she’s not trying to put you in an awkward position,” Niamh said softly.

“I know. She did say that we could pretend to be friends.” Amy wouldn’t have meant any bad intentions. Imogen knew that. “But no. It’s still too risky.”

“I think it’s nice that she wants you to be there, Immy.” Piper let out a low laugh and shook her head. “Seriously, if you fell out a window you’d go up.”

“What do you mean?”

“That you’re the luckiest person I know. Look at who you’re dating. Plus, I’d give up a kidney to go to that party and you’re brushing it off like it’s an inconvenience.”

“So, you’re saying that you think I should go?”

“I think you should at least think about it rather than dismissing it out of hand. You can’t stay cooped up in your apartment forever.”

Why not? It was working for them so far.

Chapter Thirteen

“She did not say that!” Imogen said, barely able to speak for laughing so much. This Bridget Clemonte sounded like a piece of work. “As my mum used to say, if she was chocolate, she would probably eat herself.”

“She would. In fact, I’m pretty sure Bridget fits your whole Hollywood stereotype perfectly.” Amy had kicked her shoes off and thrown her feet up on the sofa. One cushion was propped behind her head while she hugged another over her tummy like a teddy bear. She seemed totally relaxed lying there telling work stories, and Imogen loved that she did. It was getting late too, and she looked all sleepy and adorable. “You’re smiling at me,” Amy said incredulously.

“Because you’re very pretty,” Imogen answered honestly. Because seriously, she didn’t want to use it as an example, but Amy wasn’t a pin-up for no reason. Looking at her was a lot of fun. “And you look so comfortable here and it makes me happy.” Which it did. And Imogen could say things like that so easily in the safety of her apartment. She could flirt. Give compliments. Lean over and kiss Amy whenever she felt like it. But could she do that outside their little safety zone? With the whole world watching? At fancy parties? Or was this all they would ever be able to have? Ugh. Trust her to turn a nice moment into a crisis.

“I am comfortable here. But what else are you thinking about?” Amy asked.

Imogen blanched. “Why would I be thinking about anything other than what I just said?”

“Because your mind wandered. I watched it happen.”

Well. There was no point in pretending when Amy could read her so easily. “I was thinking about the party you asked me to.” Along with the rest of her internal crisis.

“Ah.” Amy nodded. “The one you don’t want to go to.”

“You know why I don’t want to go.” But she had been considering it ever since her conversation with Piper and Niamh. Imogen was not a fan of a one-sided relationship. Not one bit. And she was acutely aware that Amy was doing most of the running right now. But could she really push herself out of her comfort zone and go? “It’s not just a little thing to me.”

“I get that. I just thought I’d ask.” Amy leaned over and interlaced their fingers. “Don’t worry about it. It was actually Bridget who suggested asking you.”

“I forgot she knew about me too.” The reminder nearly made her break out in a cold sweat. Secretly being with Amy was a lot sometimes. “I was thinking it was just your publicist all the way over in LA.”

Amy grimaced. “Sorry. Bridget won’t say a word though.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure. She understands the need for privacy as much as I do. And although our working relationship is…complicated, I haven’t seen any signs that she’s vindictive. Just a bit of a brat.”

Imogen nodded slowly. She had told Niamh and Piper, after all, but somehow she hadn’t really stopped to think about the fact that Amy needed people in her corner too. Helen. Bridget. People she trusted.

And Amy had done nothing but try to make this work between them. She’d walked through a damn storm for her while Imogen kept hiding behind walls and rules.

Maybe it was time she tried meeting her halfway. “I’ll go.”

“Go where?”