Pretending To Love Mr Hill

Chapter 19

The moment she was about to kiss the floor, she stopped midair.

Confused, Amelia opened one eye and peeked. Travis was holding her up, worry lines visible across his forehead, she slowly straightened herself, but his hands remained firmly around her waist.

“You’re clumsy,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m not,” she replied firmly, trying to pull back

Travis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“You are already falling merely five minutes after walking into my house.”

“That was the floor’s fault,” Amelia argued, completely serious.

For a moment, Travis simply stared at her before a quiet laugh escaped him. His embrace was warm, It made her forget that she had almost fallen. She became painfully aware of how close they were. His chest was only inches from hers, his familiar scent surrounding her.

The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her dress, making her want to snuggle closer. She mentally slapped herself.

What was wrong with her?

Travis was looking at her more intensely now, the worry lines on his forehead becoming even more pronounced. He lifted one hand and gently moved a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Amelia's throat suddenly felt dry. "Y-yes,” she squeaked.

She cleared her throat, hoping to make herself sound more normal.

“I’m okay.”

But her eyes betrayed her, they drifted down to Travis’s lips involuntarily. She immediately looked back up, she met The eyes, he was staring at her lips hungrily.

Amelia's heart skipped, he slowly licked his lower lip, and she swallowed hard. What she would give to have those lips on hers.

The thought came so naturally that it startled her, she imagined him moving closer, his hands tightening around her waist as he tilted her head slightly upward, she imagined his lips meeting hers, soft at first before—

Her phone rang, the ringtone shattered the moment. Both of them jumped.

Travis released her immediately, almost as if her body had burned him. Amelia stepped backward just as quickly, her heart racing.

She frantically searched for her bag before realizing she was already holding it. She quickly opened it and pulled out her phone, the screen displayed dad.

Amelia sighed.

Of all the people who could call her right now.

There was no way she was answering after he had interrupted whatever had almost happened between her and Travis.

She shook her head. No, she wasn't answering because she hadn't cut off the engagement yet. Yes. That was it, that was the only reason.

Amelia shoved the phone back into her bag and turned around, taking a deep breath. She could feel Travis staring at the back of her head.

When she finally turned around, however, he was looking down at his phone. She narrowed her eyes, he was pretending she could tell.

But she wasn't about to embarrass him by pointing it out.

Amelia cleared her throat and he looked up.

“Are you ready to eat now?” he asked.

Disappointment washed over her. Why? She didn't know.She had secretly expected him to say something about what had almost happened instead, he was talking about dinner.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I am.”

Travis nodded and gestured for her to follow him. He led her farther into the house, toward a section she assumed was the dining area.

Amelia's eyes widened when she saw the table.

A variety of dishes had been arranged neatly across it, each one beautifully presented. The food looked carefully prepared, from the delicate plating to the rich aromas filling the room.

She was no stranger to expensive dinners or extravagant meals, but there was something different about seeing all of this in Travis's home. Everything looked effortless, yet meticulously planned, It was impressive.

Travis took her bag from her shoulder before she could protest and placed it on one of the chairs. He then pulled another chair out for her.

She stared at him for a second.

“Thank you.”

He gave a small nod, Amelia sat down, still looking at the food.

“Who made all this?”

Travis removed his suit jacket and draped it neatly over the back of his chair.

“I have a personal chef.”

Amelia rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

She picked up her napkin.

“That’s how you rich people are.”

Travis paused before sitting down. A smirk appeared on his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

“Nothing.”

Amelia looked down at the table.

“You seem to hate rich people.”

She scoffed.

“Hate is quite a strong word. I just don't like how entitled y’all are.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. "Entitled?”

“Yes.”

He seemed genuinely curious now. "How exactly?”

Before answering, Amelia looked around the beautiful dining room.

“Look at this place.”

“What about it?”

“You have a huge house, a personal chef, expensive cars...”

She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “And I bet you're used to getting whatever you want whenever you want it.”

Travis leaned back in his chair.

"Don't you get whatever you want whenever you want it?"

"Urgh, that's not the point"

“Then what is?”

Amelia folded her arms.

" Money isn't the problem, Travis. It's the attitude that sometimes comes with it. Some rich people act like everyone else is supposed to adjust to them.”

He studied her for a moment.

“And you think I'm one of those people?”

"You lot are the same"

“You've decided all of that about me based on what?”

“Based on what I can see.”

“That seems unfair.”

Amelia shrugged. "Maybe.”

Travis stood and reached for a bottle of wine.

He opened it effortlessly and poured some into two glasses. He picked one up and held it toward her.

“Entitled, you say?” he asked again.

Amelia accepted the glass. "Yes.”

He sat down and studied her over the rim of his own glass.

“Then tell me. What exactly have I done that makes me entitled?”

Amelia opened her mouth, then paused. She hadn't expected him to actually ask.

She took a small sip of the wine, buying herself time.

“You want me to give you a list?”

Travis's mouth twitched. "If you have one.”

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I have one.”

Travis laughed, she could tell he was challenging her. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on hers with an unreadable expression.