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Sixty-Six
Magnolia
Julian and I went to dinner tonight at Maison Francois in St James, and the dinner was bizarrely date-ish. But it always kind of is with him, I suppose. He’s so charming, troublingly so sometimes. He could talk his way into or out of anything.
He sat across from me at the table after sampling away at everything he ordered, just staring over at me.
It was a funny kind of stare. A bit far off.
“What?” I frowned.
“You’re just…” He trailed off.
“What?” I frowned more.
He stared at me a few more seconds before a frown of his own appeared.
“Hot—” He grumped. “Fuck.”
I sniffed a laugh.
“Hot?” I blinked at him. “That’s what you were going to say?”
“No.” He gave me a sharp look, shoving his hands into the pocket of his black logo-print cotton-blend jersey hoodie from Vetements. “What I was going to say was you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen but you’re a fucking pain in the arse, so now that’s what I’m saying.”
I still felt taller anyway because there was a compliment buried in there somewhere.
When we pull up to Jonah’s club, Julian looks down at me before we walk inside.
He gives me a funny smile. His eyes are uneasy, his mouth’s turned down.
Stupid Bridget.
Don’t know why. Just feels like it’s her fault somehow.
He walks me inside and kisses me halfway up the stairs.
It’s a big kiss.
Obnoxious but not necessarily in a showy way. Just a blatant disregard for everything and everyone around us. A kiss at all costs.
It’s a good kiss too.
A hand on my face, a hand in my hair. His body pressing mine against the wall. He pulls away a little, hovers over my face.
I look up at him quizzically.
“What was that for?”
He gives me a bit of a shrug. “Just cause.”
Then he takes holds me by the waist, pushes me up the stairs, holds me like that til we find Jonah and Beej.
Jules nods hello to both of them and I instantly feel self-conscious about his hands on my waist in front of BJ.
I don’t know why. BJ’s looking at me funny. His eyes are rounder than usual.
He swallows. I swallow.
