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Julian holds his arm out for me. “Ready to get out of here?”
I wrap my fingers around his strong bicep with a stupid grin plastered on my face.
Twenty minutes later, Ramon parks in front of Bennett’s Steakhouse, a new restaurant that Julian said opened last month. I couldn’t afford a soda in this place, let alone food. So, to say I feel out of my element when we step into the fancy pants restaurant is an understatement. It’s impossible not to wonder if the hostess is eyeing me up like I don’t belong.
I always feel out of place in Julian’s world. I’ve never fit it and probably never will. And I guess that’s my problem more than his. I have to stop my negative thought patterns. Dr. Saxon says my mind holds me back. She’s one hundred percent right. I overthink everything.
We follow the hostess to a semi-circular booth in the corner of the restaurant. I scoot along the leather bench until my thigh is pressed against Julian’s muscular one. Hidden in the back, we have plenty of privacy. He must have planned it this way. As the only son of a billionaire, Julian gets a lot of privileges.
After our waitress appears and takes our drink order, Julian leans back, stretching his legs under the table as he slides his arm across the back of my neck. I relax against his thick chest and move my hand to his thigh.
I peek up at Julian, and when I do, he smiles.
“I can’t believe I’m here right now,” I admit.
“Why?”
“Because I promised myself I would never speak to you again, and here I am, despite my warnings.”
Julian covers my hand on his thigh and gives it a good squeeze. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make the past up to you. I want you to experience everything I had planned for us before…” His voice trails off. “How about we avoid talking about the past for a change? I’d rather focus on our future together.”
“Someone is a little presumptuous, huh?” I say this with a wicked smirk that he returns.
“I always saw a future with you.”
Part of me wants to challenge him, but since he asked me not to talk about the past, I keep my mouth shut. We don’t need to fight over something neither of us can change. No matter how much we rehash what happened in our sophomore year, nothing we say or do can change the past.
When I don’t respond, he says, “How are you feeling?” He slides his fingers beneath my chin, tilting it up until our eyes meet. “You haven’t gotten sick since last weekend.”
“The swelling is gone.”
“Good.” He cups the side of my face and inspects my head for proof that the welt is gone. “So, you don’t need to see Dr. Carter again?”
“No, I don’t think so. I feel fine.”
“I booked us a room at the Ritz,” he says.
“I want to spend the night with you. But, Julian, I swear to God if you hurt me, or you’re using me in any way, I will murder you. I’ll turn into Carrie at the prom.”
He laughs at my Carrie reference, and then his expression hardens. “I will never hurt you ever again. I promise.”
I blow out the breath of air I was holding. “This isn’t just sex to me. I’m not letting you back into my life for that. So, if you’re not here for something more than a hookup, you can drop me off after dinner, and we can go our separate ways and pretend like this never happened.”
“I still love you, Bri.” He whispers the words against my lips. “I never stopped. It’s always been you.”
My heart races from his confession, my pulse pounding so loudly I can hear the thumping in my ears. I smile but don’t know what to say. I was in love with Julian years ago, and a part of me will always love him. But I’m not ready to confess how I feel about him. Regardless of our history, it’s too soon. We’ve been apart for too long.
The waitress sets a basket of mixed bread that smells amazing at the center of the table and hands us our salads. Saved by the bell. The awkward tension filling the air was starting to get a little weird. I sip from the glass of wine the waitress places in front of me, hiding behind the glass. If I keep drinking, I don’t have to say anything to Julian. I can go on as if he never confessed his love for me.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Julian stabs the lettuce with his fork. “Because this place is known for big portions.”
I lift my fork from the table. “I’m starved.”
“There’s something else I would rather eat,” he mutters under his breath.
He smiles and then shoves the lettuce into his mouth, grinning like an idiot as he chews his food.
“You’re a bad boy, Julian.”
