Page 78 of Never Date a Celebrity

Imogen walked around the bed and took a seat in Bridget’s abandoned blue chair. She leaned forward and carefully took Amelia’s unbroken hand, rubbing her thumb along the back of it. “That’s not the only reason, Amy. I’ve missed you.”

“You’ve hardly spoken to me all week. Your choice.” Amelia had been the one initiating the small amount of contact they’d had. “You didn’t have to miss me if you didn’t want to.” Was it the concussion or the meds that were making her pick a fight? Maybe it was a mix. Imogen disappearing on her hadn’t helped either.

Imogen at least had the decency to look ashamed. She stared down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry about that. I was confused, and scared, and…you know why.”

“Those girls recognised me, and you freaked out,” Amelia said quietly. She had sensed the shift as soon as it happened.

Imogen nodded. “I did. And freaking out about that made me freak out about everything else as well. I’m not proud of it, but it’s what happened.” She looked up at Amelia, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to lose you, Amy. I saw that article and was terrified I had.” The tears spilled over, and Amelia softened at the sight. Who was she kidding? She was terrible at being a hard-ass anyway.

She tugged on Imogen’s arm to pull her in for a hug. Fuck the ribs. “Come here.” Amelia held her close, balancing her cast on Imogen’s shoulder. She breathed in, taking in the familiar scent of Imogen. Like fresh sea air mixed with something sweet. “Most of those articles were being overly dramatic. You know that’s what they do. As you can see, I’m fine. They’ll likely make me work again within a couple of days. Time is money and all.”

She felt Imogen chuckle. “That’s probably true. You said they’re sticklers for a schedule.”

“Oh, complete.” Though now she was pretty sure they’d pay for a stunt double for any additional scenes involving golf carts. Maybe Amelia would take a page out of Bridget’s book and insist on it.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Imogen said, pulling back just enough to cradle Amelia’s face—Amelia leaned into it automatically. “I know we have a lot of things to talk about, but not right now. You need to rest. Can I just sit here with you for a little while? Would that be okay?”

“Just sitting with you sounds perfect right now,” Amelia replied. Because yes, they had a lot to talk about. There were issues that hadn’t just disappeared because Amelia had been in an accident. And they had to decide once and for all if they really could have a future together or not—without all the back and forth. But Amelia was tired. And sore. And all she wanted to do was hold Imogen’s hand and know she was there with her.

The next thing Amelia knew, it was morning. She went to rub her eyes with her good hand when she realised that she was holding onto something. Imogen’s arm.

Imogen was still there. Sitting in the blue chair, folded forward onto the bed with her arms resting across Amelia’s legs. Her head rested on one arm, breathing slow and even. She must have slept that way all night.

Amelia carefully eased her hand free to check the time on her phone. It was only five twenty. Still early. She stroked Imogen’s hair, quietly taking in how peaceful she looked. They probably stayed that way for another hour or so. Imogen sleeping, Amelia soaking up every second of having her there. Honestly, she hadn’t expected anything like this would ever happen again.

Imogen only woke when a nurse came in to make her rounds at around six thirty. “Hey,” she said sleepily. “Is it morning already?”

Amelia smiled. “It is. I can’t believe you stayed here all night in that awful chair.”

“I would have stayed all night on a chair made of spikes if it meant knowing you were okay. How are you feeling?”

Well, that certainly didn’t help Amelia keep her feelings under control. “I’m okay. A little bit sore, but I think I should be able to get out of here soon.”

“I heard the nurse say it will probably be later this morning,” Imogen said, stretching her arms above her head.

Amelia’s phone started buzzing beside her, blowing up with notification after notification. Something had happened. She frowned and reached over for it to check what was going on. Her stomach twisted at what she saw.

“What’s wrong?” Imogen sounded concerned. Probably because Amelia was still staring at her phone.

“Um.” How could she tell Imogen what she was seeing? How the fuck did this photo even exist? But there it was. An image, clear as day, of herself asleep in the very hospital bed she was in now, embracing Imogen who lay sleeping beside her. Okay, Imogen was in the chair rather than the bed, but they were holding onto each other in a way nobody would mistake for friendship.

With a sigh Amelia handed Imogen the phone. She was going to see it in a matter of minutes anyway. She may as well whip the Band-Aid off now.

Imogen stared at it silently for at least a minute. A very long minute. “I don’t understand,” she eventually said in a small voice. “How did they get this?”

“I don’t know,” Amelia said. But she intended to find out. Had a reporter managed to sneak in somehow during the night? No, Steve would never have let that happen. He’d been outside the door since she’d arrived. Imogen had only made it inside because Steve knew who she was.

Maybe someone who worked there had gone rogue and tried to make an extra bit of cash. They would have been the only people with access—though everyone had been so lovely that Amelia hated even considering it.

Imogen studied the picture again. “We look…I mean, you wouldn’t think we were just…”

“I think it will look pretty cosy to whoever sees it. I’m sorry, Imogen. I know this is what you wanted to avoid.” And subsequently what Amelia wanted to avoid too. Because she knew where it would lead—to the final act.

“Not your fault at all.” Imogen gave her a tight smile and passed the phone back with a trembling hand. Amelia hated that she was shaking.

Instinctively, she held it, wanting to reassure Imogen as much as she could. “This will be okay, you know. It’s only one picture. I’ll personally ensure that it doesn’t have any negative impact on your life.” And she was determined to make that the truth. “I’ll get Helen straight on this. She’s really good.” Though Helen would undoubtedly ask what Amelia wanted the narrative to be, and it didn’t seem like a good time to discuss that with Imogen.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine,” Imogen said in a way that didn’t make Amelia believe she meant it. “I, um…I should probably get back to help Piper and Niamh set up for the day. I kind of rushed out on them last night.”