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“Is it different when the friend is a girl?” I ask, hating how childish my words sound. If I didn’t care about Juliette, I wouldn’t even subject myself to the torture of asking advice from my brothers.
Grayson grins and he opens his mouth to say something, but Maverick speaks up first.
“No, it’s not.” He pauses. “Actually, I take that back, you’ll probably have to apologize even more.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“It’s just the truth,” he replies with a shrug. “Next time you see her, give her a sincere apology and hope you didn’t screw up bad enough that she won’t forgive you."
I slowly nod. “Okay, I can do that.”
Grayson is practically bouncing beside me, so I look at him.
“What?” I ask and he feigns innocence by widening his blue eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Go ahead and say it.”
“When you marry her, can I be the best man at your wedding? I think I should get to since I’m your twin.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Maverick and Levi both laugh at us.
“I’m not marrying Juliette.”
Grayson’s faux innocent look fades into a smirk.
“We’ll see.”
Chapter twelve
Juliette Monroe
Istompdownthesidewalk, taking my bad mood out on the puddles beneath my black rain boots. Some people would resent the fact that the weather matches their mood, but not me. It gives me a sense of justification. I have all the more reason to be sour when it’s storming on a Saturday.
Rain pelts my clear umbrella while ice-cold air whips against every bit of skin exposed to the elements. Which isn’t much, just half my face–the bottom half is buried in a forest green scarf–and the hand holding my umbrella. My fingers might fall off before I can get to Peaches and Cream, and it would be all my fault since I left my gloves on my kitchen counter.
I channel every tinge of discomfort into my frustration toward Adrian. I had all last night to stew and think everything over. It allowed me to see where he was coming from, which was unfortunate since I’d made the decision to be angry with him for the rest of time. Now, the only thing I have left to be mad about is him saying he would have helped anyone in that situation. That should be an endorsement of his character, but I can’t help but be hurt by him not thinking of me as more than some random stranger on the street.
I step under the awning over the café door and shake out my umbrella. Through the window, I spot Adrian sitting at my booth and my anger intensifies. I push open the door with more force than necessary, making the bell above it ring several times in a row. Adrian’s gaze lifts from his laptop, his blue eyes widening a touch when they land on me.
“Morning, sugar!” Poppy chirps, still a ray of sunshine even in this dreary weather.
“Good morning, Poppy,” I reply and ignore Adrian’s presence. If I’m nothing more than a stranger to him, then that’s all I’ll be. Mature? Not really. But my heart is a little too raw after last night to care.
Kyle grabbing me brought up a lot of ugly memories from my childhood. So, when I wasn’t thinking of what Adrian said, I was reliving some of the less-than-pleasant moments I experienced growing up. My parents didn’t physically abuse me often–they preferred psychological tactics–but there were a few occasions when their tempers got the best of them and they grabbed me. It was usually only to pull me to another room to yell at me, but it still left a mark on my mind, even though my body is free of scars.
That walk down memory lane sapped my strength and my more forgiving nature. If Adrian wants something more, he’s going to have to do something about it, because I’m not going to be the first to say something. Not this time.
“Honey, are you okay?” I blink a few times, coming back to the present. Poppy is staring at me, concern furrowing her brow. I can feel Adrian’s gaze on me even though I refuse to look at him.
“I’m fine,” I say with a forced smile. “I was just trying to decide what to get. What’s your current favorite?” I walk the rest of the way to the counter, keeping my eyes on Poppy.
“I have this hazelnut black tea I just got in a few days ago that I’m loving.”
“That sounds really nice,” I say and she rings it up for me. I take a seat at the booth opposite Adrian but sit with my back facing him.
My head hurts from lack of sleep combined with stress. Whenever I get overwhelmed, pain radiates from my head through my neck, even into my shoulder blades sometimes. I haven’t had a headache like this in a while. My fingertips brush against the smooth hardback I slid into my tote bag earlier this week. A little escapism in the form of a good book wouldn’t hurt. When I pull it out, I have to stifle a groan. I forgot that I putPride and Prejudicein here a few days ago after I finishedThe Great Gatsby.
