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“I’m so happy you’ll be here for the Harvest Festival this year,” Josefina says. “It’s changed a lot since you were last here.” Julian’s mom has been the town’s event coordinator for two decades, and while I know she doesn’t have favorites, the Harvest Festival remains one of her top contenders.
“How so?” I ask.
“Everything is different and in the best way possible—the food, the activities, therides. And this year, we booked the same company that does the firework shows for Dreamland!”
I blink a couple of times. “Isn’t that…expensive?”
Josefina laughs. “Claro que si, but Julian is our main sponsor.”
Claro que si:Of course.
“By main, she meansonly,” Lily teases.
My eyes bulge. Everyone knows Julian is disgustingly rich, but sponsoring every event seems excessive.
“He only donates that much because of how happy it makes you to plan everything without having a tight budget,” my mom says.
“I’m not going to complain.” Josefina shrugs.
We continue cooking and talking until the doorbell chiming interrupts Josefina’s story about the latest event-planning mishap with the corn maze.
“That must be Julian or Rafa.” She swipes her flour-covered hands across her apron.
“Dahlia, can you get it?” Mom looks up from her Michiganshaped cutting board and points at the door with the tip of her knife.
“Sure. Would hate for Lily to get off her butt and do something useful today.” I hop off the bar stool.
My sister sticks her tongue out at me before returning to whomever she can’t stop texting.
I readjust my sling before opening the door. Julian stands on the other side with a roll of papers tucked underneath his arm and his phone placed against his ear.
“What do you mean—” Julian’s voice cuts out as his eyes blaze a trail down my body. He blinks twice, which is Julian code forfuck.
Julian appreciating my efforts to look good feels like a victory I didn’t know I needed after spending years squeezing myself into a mold for someone else.
I tuck my hair behind my ear before fidgeting with mydangling acrylic earring.
“Yes, I’m still here.” His deep baritone voice has far too much power over my heart rate.
Here, Julian mouths as he passes me the papers from the attic. He could have easily passed the job off to anyone else, yet he went through the trouble of going back before today’s lunch and retrieving them himself.
I try not to look too much into the gesture, but I lose the battle once he carefully places the papers in the crook of my good arm. The scowl he directs toward my broken arm makes my knees tremble.
“My buyer can’t wait another month for the countertops.” His muscles tense as he runs his hand through his hair, drawing my eyes toward the thick vein running up the side of his arm. Julian might spend most of his days in an office now, but he could still bench-press meanda bag of cement mix on his worst day.
His gaze flicks over to me, catching me in the act. His right brow rises in a silent taunt that makes my stomach flip.
If finding Julian attractive is a crime, consider me guilty as charged.
Haven’t you learned anything after the last time you fell for his looks?
Julian didn’t hurt me when we were in college because he rejected me. Sure, it injured my pride and made me feel like the biggest loser after the passionate kiss we shared, but my dislike toward him is so much more than that. He crushed my spirit when he cut me out of his life like I never existed in the first place.
I thought we had something special after spending a year at Stanford together, with our relationship transforming from friends into something else entirely, but it was all a lie.
While I’d love nothing more than to eavesdrop on Julian’s conversation, I shut the door behind me, although it does a shitty job at keeping out the sound of his soft laugh. My heart does this weird squeeze in response, which only serves to further piss me off.
Instead of heading back to the kitchen, I veer toward the empty dining room and place the three rolls of paper on the tabletop before reaching for the largest one. With one arm out of commission, the task of removing the rubber band wrapped around it proves more difficult than anticipated, so I secure it between my thighs for leverage.
