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"Just taking a breather," I reply, not bothering to open my eyes.
I'm not sure why he followed me. Or why it seems he's always there.
"Want some company?" When I don't respond, he takes my silence as an invitation. His arm brushes against mine, sending shock waves straight to my heart, as he leans back against the wall next to me.
He smells like chlorine mixed with his usual woodsy scent I love so much.
"I actually would prefer to be alone." Opening my eyes, I blink twice to keep the tears at bay and then turn to face him, my neck craning as I take in all six-foot-three-inches of delicious perfection standing next to me.
He's leaning casually against the white-washed wood, arms crossed over his chest, his toned biceps on full display since he's torn the sleeves from his t-shirt. I've never understood why guys do that, but I'll also never complain. There's something about it that's down-right sexy.
Plus, it gives me a perfect view of the tattoos covering his right arm. Ink blankets every inch of tanned skin from his wrist up to his shoulder blade. My eyes blaze a trail following the intricate patterns and don't stop admiring the view until he clears his throat.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" My eyes snap up to meet his rich mocha browns. The intensity in his gaze has my heart picking up its pace, and the small ring of gold around his irises holds me captive as he stares straight into my soul. At least it feels like he does. It feels this way every time we make eye contact. More than likely it's a figment of my imagination. "I'm a good listener, Piper."
"You wouldn't understand," I manage to say, averting my eyes to the ground.
"Try me."
My mouth opens, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I can't bring myself to say anything. What do I even want to say?
That I feel alone because all my friends found someone?
Invisible.
That's the word I find myself whispering. And it encompasses so much of how I feel yet not enough.
"You're not invisible, Piper. How could you even think that?"
My resolve breaks, tears welling in my eyes. I attempt to blink them away, but it's no use. As soon as the first tear falls my knees buckle, and I slide down the wall, landing in the grass with a thump.
Julian kneels in front of me, concern plastered across his face for the second time today.
"I want to be alone," I manage to say between uneven breaths.
"I can't leave you like this."
"Please, Julian," I beg. "I just need a minute. I promise I'll be fine."
Placing his hand under my chin, he lifts until I'm looking him in the eye. He seems to assess me for a brief moment, his eyes scanning my face.
"I'll leave as long as you promise not to shed another tear over whatever his name is. He doesn't deserve them."
His words don't register at first. Once they do, I can't contain the shock.
I want to laugh. He thinks I'm heartbroken over a guy. If he only knew I was heartbroken because I've lost my belief in love.
"Promise me, pretty girl. Promise me, and I'll walk away right now."
Pretty girl.
Oh my god!
He's the man from my dreams. How did I not realize this before?
He's always called me pretty girl. It's been his way of greeting me since the first day we met. Yet, I didn't make the connection until this moment. A moment I wish he wasn't witnessing.
"I'm not leaving until you say the words."
