Instead, I smile at him, and he blinks hard as if caught off guard. “So, do I get a new nickname?”
Nolan barks a laugh from the kitchen, and I look around Julian to see him sitting at the table with his books. Usually, when he isn’t studying with us or swimming, he’s up in his room.
“You think I’d miss this,” he says, pointing between Julian and me with a chuckle, clearly having read the question on my face.
I can’t help but smile because, yeah, this is probably going to be something.
“Let’s get this purple in your hair so you can upgrade to my little purple Pookie,” Julian says, grabbing my wrist and hauling me off into the bathroom.
“No, wait. Just Purple, no more Pookie,” I protest even as I laugh because leave it to Julian to find a way to make his nickname even more ridiculous.
“Nah, you're Pookie for life,” Nolan shouts after us, and I glare at him over my shoulder as we turn into the bathroom.
“Traitor!” His laughter is rich and infectious as it echoes after us, and I see why Julian couldn’t pick me up from class; he’s been busy.
In what’s usually a pretty standard bathroom, there now sits a chair like one might find at a salon, a cape, bowls, and brushes.
“Oh my.”
Julian’s smile turns unsure as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly nervous. “I just wanted you to be comfortable while we did it. I knew you were nervous, and if you’re still unsure, it’s totally cool if you don’t, but—”
I press my hand to his mouth to stop his rambling and smile up at him when his eyes go wide and his brows shoot up.
“I would have just kissed you, but I’d need a step stool or something.”
Even with his mouth covered, I see his smile. His eyes shine with it, and his cheeks dimple. I pull my hand away, and he swoops in to press a kiss to my lips, making me laugh, and he doesn’t hesitate to sneak his tongue in, making me curl my toes.
When he pulls back, we're both breathing hard and smiling wide.
“Remind me to get you a stool.” I bark a laugh, and he reaches out, lacing his fingers with mine to lead me over to the chair. “Your throne, my love.”
I get the displeasure of watching the way my face turns red from his words in the mirror before I glance away.
“You and these nicknames are going to kill me,” I grumble.
“You love them,” he breathes in my ear, quickly nibbling it before he pulls back to put the cape over me. When I glance up, I find his gaze glued to mine.
I do.
“Make me purple, Blue.”
Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.
“Why is girls' hair so much more complicated?” Julian whines, lifting a section of my hair in the air and looking at it as if he’s never seen hair before.
“Probably because she easily has triple the hair you do.”
Julian turns, and I look in the mirror at Titus, who stands leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his usual annoyed look on his face, but that’s not surprising since I’m in the room.
“If you're not going to help, then you can leave. This is hard enough without your bad attitude, Snookums.”
I expect Titus to be put off by the nickname, but instead, I swear I see his eyes soften even if only for a moment. The second his gaze flicks to me, that softness is replaced with ice.
For a moment, he doesn’t move, and then with a huff, he’s stalking forward, his lips pulled so far down in a frown that he looks like one of those blobfish.
The thought makes me smile, and his frown deepens.
Yup, definitely a blobfish.
