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When Lauren takes off to greet the girls from marketing, I pull Julian toward one of the high tables dotted around the edges of the ballroom. “Julian, I’m so sorry. I meant to text you after I left, but…” I trail off, my excuses lame, even to me.
Julian wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. I stiffen my spine, resisting the urge to melt into him. He’s putting on a show, like I asked him to. Bending down, he speaks quietly. “Listen, Rocky, if you want to be just friends, that’s fine. But a friend would have at least checked in at some point. Not leave me worrying if you were okay.”
I look up, surprised at his words. “You were worried about me?”
“Of course I was worried about you. Everything else aside, the last thing I knew was that Derek had followed you after work, and you were too scared to go home. On Saturday, I figured you were with Lauren and Sophie, but after that? Yeah. I was worried. But then I saw you at work on Monday and heard all about the disaster. But it would have been nice to hear it from you, not the office grapevine.”
Relief trickles down my spine. Maybe he’s not as mad as I thought. But then he pinches the back of my elbow. “If you were a dude, I’d tell you that was an asshole move.”
I swallow. “Are you mad at me?”
Derek strolls by, eyeing us from across the dance floor. Julian pulls me in close and drops a kiss to the top of my head, sending a little ripple of heat through me, even though I know he’s just acting. “Honestly? Yes. I don’t like it when my friends ghost me.” His voice drops to a whisper. “You’ve been so hot and cold, Rocky. We both know what I want—you’re the mystery here. The only thing I’m certain of is keeping you safe from Derek tonight. So that’s what I’m going to do. Let me know when you figure out the rest.”
I’ve never been good at parties. I don’t know how to make small talk, and I’m terrible at thinking of something clever to say in the moment. I can think of plenty of charming things to say, about five minutes too late. So generally, when I’m at a party, I stand around with whoever will tolerate me and listen to the conversations around me.
Being at this party is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Lauren knows everyone, and everyone wants to say hello to her. That alone is enough to make me anxious, but now I’m realizing that Julian is far more popular than I thought. All the men want to come chat with him, talking workout regimens and gains and macros, and none of it makes sense to me.
And that’s nothing compared to being near Mr. Sutton and Sophie. For a girl who’s always hung out at the periphery of a party, I’m smack in the middle of the most popular crowd. Not only that, but Sophie keeps introducing me to people, pulling me into her orbit.
Every time she introduces me, Mr. Sutton claims I saved the day. Then there’s an awful thirty seconds where people compliment me, and I have to stand there and smile and say thank you. I want to die.
On top of all that, Derek is sitting at the table just behind us, drinking steadily. The only silver lining is that because of the crowd, the distance between Julian and I goes unnoticed.
Well, I thought it was unnoticed until Lauren and I head to the bar for another round of drinks. “What’s going on with you and Julian?” Lauren gets straight to the point. “I thought something was weird when we got here, but I assumed you were just nervous or something. But it’s like you guys can barely look at each other. Did you have a fight?”
I order a vodka cranberry, and she orders two fingers of whiskey. How do I answer her? “We didn’t fight. It was just a rough week, you know.”
The bartender slides the drinks over and I take a sip before admitting the thought that’s been at the back of my head. “Going from friends to more has been kind of hard.”
“Is the sex bad?”
“Is the what?” I choke on my drink. “Fuck, Lauren.”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes locked on something happening across the room. I follow her gaze but can’t see what has her distracted. Julian is still at the same high table, a few of the guys from sales gathered around his table. And then I see it. Just beyond him, Mr. Sutton is pulling Sophie away from the party, a determined look on his scowling face. She’s holding his hand and gripping his forearm, glancing around and giggling as they sneak through a side door.
“Can I get two shots of vodka?” Lauren taps the bar top, her shoulders slumping.
“Two shots? That’s a lot of alcohol, Lauren.”
She slides one over to me. “This one's for you. Drink up.” We clink glasses, and Lauren downs her shot. I hesitate over mine, but Lauren reaches out and tips it up to my mouth, and I’m forced to either swallow or spill it down my chest.
Coughing at the burn, my eyes clear in time to see Lauren down her whiskey. “Why are we doing shots?”
Pulling me onto the dance floor with her, Lauren doesn’t answer, just starts swaying to the music, leaving me to join in or abandon her. After a frantic glance around reassures me that there are other people dancing and Julian is occupied with the guys he’s talking to, I join in. I’m not a dancer, step touch and an occasional shoulder wiggle about the extent of my ability, but it’s more fun than having to talk to random people all night. Besides, I can feel both Julian and Derek’s eyes boring into me from across the dance floor. If nothing else, I know Julian will keep an eye on us.
The idea of him watching me triggers a little flare of desire in my belly. The heat in his voice when he told me he wanted more rings in my ears. But I can’t shake the coldness in his eyes when he told me to figure out what I want. What do I want?
Is it wrong to enjoy the way he makes me feel sexy? My spine loosens, and the sway of my hips becomes more natural as the music continues. I let the music wash over me, aware of nothing except the way it feels to move my body, knowing that Julian is watching me. Why is it so easy to enjoy this feeling some days and not others?
Maybe I’m broken. I don’t know how else to explain the fact that when he’s touching me, when I’m touching him, I don’t want to stop. In the abstract, I want to keep having sex with Julian. But then I get wrapped up in work, or doing the things that people expect of me, and I’m overwhelmed with guilt that I’m choosing him over my obligations.
But, oh God, I want him.
Why am I so scared to admit that I might want this to be real too? That I’m craving the way he makes me feel sexy, safe, and brave all at once. That I missed him this week. I missed having lunch with him, hearing about Liam and Emma’s budding romance, the book he’s reading, and the new recipe he’s trying that night.
I can’t keep him in limbo anymore, it’s unfair to Julian. As my brothers would say, shit or get off the pot.
“Want another?” Lauren bumps into me with another shot glass in her hand. I didn’t even notice her leaving, I was so wrapped up in my thoughts.
