“Normal is safe.”
“Safe is boring.”
“Safe doesn’t leave you crying on my couch for six months like Preston did.”
The words land hard. I look away.
“Sorry,” Sage says immediately. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just—I worry about you.”
“I know.”
“And this guy is clearly something special. I can see why you’re falling for him. But Poppy, he’s also obviously hiding something. Something big.”
“I know that, too.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
I look through the doorway. Julian is standing by my window, looking out at the city. In profile, he could be anyone—a businessman, a billionaire, a man thinking about stocks or schedules or other normal things.
But there’s something about the way he holds himself. The stillness. The sense that he’s been standing exactly like that for longer than I can imagine.
“No,” I admit. “I’m not okay with it. But I’m also not willing to walk away.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the first person in years who sees me. The real me. Not the highlight reel.”
“And that’s worth the mystery?”
“Right now? Yes.”
Sage sighs. “Then I hope the mystery is worth the risk.”
“So do I.”
Julian leaves at eleven.
At the door, we stand close—closer than we have all evening. I can feel the tension he’s been holding, the careful distance he maintained with Sage watching.
“She’s protective,” he says.
“She’s been my person since college. She’s earned the right to be protective.”
“I like her.”
“She likes you. Even if she won’t admit it yet.”
He reaches up, brushes a strand of hair from my face. His fingers are cool.
“Thank you for tonight,” he says. “For introducing me to someone who matters to you.”
“Thank you for surviving the interrogation.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“I believe you.”
He hesitates. There’s something in his eyes—the same thing I saw on our practice date. Want. Restraint.
