Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Julia,” he grumbles. “Can we talk for a second?”
I freeze. Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of Charlie’s hand, still on my lower back, like an intruder making my skin burn. I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed by the school principal, about to get the lecture of my life.
Except I’m not the one who messed up.
I close my eyes, gathering up all my confidence, and turn my head in his direction. I don’t move, and neither does Charlie.
“You’ll have to give me a few minutes. I need to take my shot and collect my winnings.”
Women start to crowd around, recognizing him and asking for pictures. I know he’s struggling, but I take my time anyway. I look back at Charlie.
“This is how it’s done,” I tell him. He doesn’t pull back, and I don’t ask him to, knowing it’s getting a reaction out of Harrison.
Call me petty, but that’s all I have after the past few days.
I take my shot. It goes in clean—exactly where I want it.
Claire and Lucy jump off their stools and start shouting and clapping, inadvertently drawing even more attention to us and, by default, Harrison.
He’s still standing there, his hands in his pockets, not-so-patiently waiting.
“I’m sorry,” I say sweetly to Charlie. We’re face-to-face now. “We did warn you both.”
It might be the alcohol, or maybe the fact that Harrison just crashed my night out, but I lean in and plant a quick kiss on Charlie’s cheek. He grabs my arm as I’m turning away.
“Hands off,” Harrison growls, now standing in front of me.
Charlie gives him a stare, full of challenge. “Who are you? The boyfriend?”
I step between them.
“He was just leaving,” I snap.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk.”
His voice is still low, but now there’s a thread of pleading in it.
A girl approaches us shyly. “Joshua? Could I take a picture with you? I’m a big fan!”
“You take care of that while I go cash in my winnings,” I tell him before joining the others at the bar.
“—It’s decided then. Round of shots for everyone,” Claire tells Tony.
The elder is staring between me and Harrison, tension rising by the second.
“What’s decided?”
“Just wait and see,” she chuckles.
Harrison materializes beside me again. I can smell him. I feel the pull from his body so close to mine. I try my hardest not to look at him.
Tony sets five shots in front of us, with a small plate of lemon slices and salt.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Harrison whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Anger bubbles up. He is not going to tell me what I can and can’t do.
“How do you know how much I’ve had?” I shoot back, finally turning to face him, jabbing his chest with my index finger.
“Tony gave me your tab.”
He doesn’t smile. His face still holds the same infuriatingly neutral expression.
But just imagining how smug he could be makes me even more stubborn.
“Good,” I snap. “Glad that was taken care of in a timely manner.”
Everyone’s waiting. I grab the shot glass and meet his eyes as I lick the base of my thumb and dust it with salt.
I welcome the liquid fire trailing down my throat. I’m definitely going to need it now.
He doesn’t even wait until I’ve bitten into the lemon before grabbing my hand. He takes the glass from me, setting it down on the counter.
“We’re leaving,” he announces to Claire and Lucy, who are too stunned to speak.
“No, we’re not,” I say firmly.
A group of girls walk into the bar, scanning the room. Obviously looking for him. Word that he’s here is spreading like wildfire.
“Don’t make me put you over my shoulder.”
“You wouldn’t,” I challenge.
He raises an eyebrow, already crouching to grab my legs.
“Fine, fine. Let’s go.”
I give the girls an apologetic look before I’m pulled away and straight into the back room—the last place I want to be right now.
Memories surge, wild and unstoppable, no longer locked in that part of my brain that was keeping them buried.
It’s so overwhelming I have to sit on top of the crates to stay grounded.
“I didn’t need you to show up here tonight,” I tell him. It’s the truth—I needed him days ago, when those pictures first surfaced.
“Tony told me you were here.”
“Yeah,” I scoff. “Figured that much.”
“Can we go somewhere?” He says, turning toward the door like someone might barge in any second.
“Why?” I press. “Scared to be caught in another scandal?”
“Julia—” He drags a hand through his already messy hair, clearly scrambling for what to say. “That’s not what this is. Fuck. Can we just go?”
I want to keep pushing. Winding him up is the only power I have right now.
But there’s something in the way he stands—uneasy, like he’s barely holding it together—that tugs the only string of compassion left in me.
“My stuff is still out there.”
The adrenaline of his arrival is starting to wear off, and the alcohol is kicking in to take its place.
“I’ll go get it,” I slur slightly.
“Where is it?”
“I’ll get it,” I insist. “There’s like a horde of people looking for you out there.”
“Just stay put, Julia.” He’s stern.
“Back booth. Brown coat and small black purse.”
I watch him scramble his way through to where Claire and Lucy are now sitting, accompanied by Charlie and his friend. The group of girls spot him from afar and rush in his direction just as he turns and heads back toward me.
He grabs my hand, the door shutting behind him. “Let’s go.”
I feel like I’m outside my body, watching as I let myself be pulled out of the back room and out to the alley just as the door to the bar swings open.
Around the corner, the black SUV is waiting.
He opens the door for me, then circles to the other side. He tells Arthur to take us to mine.
I’m sitting there, still catching up. I turn to him and find he’s already staring at me.
He leans over, and I back away slightly, not trusting myself so close. His arm comes over my face and grabs my seatbelt. I try to fumble for it. I can put on my own seatbelt—now that I’ve remembered it exists.
“Stop,” he says, his voice gentler now. “Stay still, Julia.”
I do as I’m told.
He’s close enough that I don’t even have to lean in to smell him. His scent is as intoxicating as ever. I feel the urge to wrap my arms around him, pretend the last few days didn’t happen, and slip right back into the good old us.
I did that so many times with Noah.
I love Harrison—but above all, I love the new me.
So, with a willpower I didn’t even know I had, I keep the blindfold off.
The drive is quiet. We’re both sneaking glances, but neither of us dares to speak. Probably for the best. Arthur doesn’t need to be a witness to whatever this is.
Harrison steps out as soon as we arrive and opens my door. He’s still carrying my coat and my purse, and he rummages through until he finds my keys. He leads the way in, looking back at me every few seconds to make sure I’m following.
I don’t rush. I’m too tipsy to care.
At my door, he opens it and waits.
“Is it okay if I come in?”
My head swivels towards him, suppressing a grin. “After your little show at the bar, you’re asking for permission now?”
He huffs, running another frustrated hand through his hair. It’s sticking out in a million directions now. When the door closes behind him, he drops my things on the couch and stands there, hands in his pockets.
It’s only in the silence of my apartment that I really look at him.
He looks awful.
He’s unshaven—probably hasn’t touched a razor since Wednesday. His usually sharp eyes are dim, framed by dark circles. He’s wearing black trousers and an old beat-up grey hoodie.
“You look like shit,” I say, no-filter courtesy of mojitos and shots.
I expect him to be offended, but he doesn’t flinch. Just chuckles.
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ve had better days.”
We stand there in silence for the next minute. Neither of us moves.
“So,” he finally says, jaw tightening. “Who was that?”
Of all the things he could’ve opened with, he chooses this? Unbelievable.
“Who was who?” I ask, wondering if he’s going to have the audacity to go through with the inquisition.
“The guy at the bar.” His voice is a mix of jealousy and hurt. “I’m sure he didn’t know we’ve been in that same position you had him in.”
“Are you being for real right now?” I hiss. He steps back at the sound. “You are the last person who should be giving me condescending commentary.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt him before he can.
“If that’s why you came to the bar, to make sure you didn’t lose me to another guy, I’m sorry to inform you—you lost me way before he came into the picture. And that was all on you.”
Something shifts behind his eyes. His face crumbles, changing in an instant. Then, two large steps and he’s right in front of me, reaching.
My palms land hard against his chest. I push him away before I let him get too close. If I do, I’ll be a goner.
“Don’t,” I warn. His arms fall to his sides, defeated.
“I’m sorry, Julia,” he says, ever so softly. “Are you okay?”
I will be, once he stops beating around the bush.
“I’m fine.” Another minute goes by, and he doesn’t say a word. I can tell he’s thinking. “Are you going to address the giant elephant in the room, or should I?”
We’ve never spoken to each other this harshly. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone like this before.
“I don’t want to mess this up even more,” he whimpers. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve fucked up these past few days. I’ve been so busy. I wanted to come over every night, but I was exhausted. I fell asleep on the couch yesterday and—”
“Stop,” I raise a hand. “There are plenty of things to discuss, and you being busy is the last one on my list. Man up and explain why I’ve been staring at pictures of you getting overly comfortable with your ex for days.”
“I didn’t know she was going to be there until I arrived. I assumed she had gone back to L.A. Peter didn’t tell me—he thought I might not even show.”
“—but you did show. Day after day.” I spit the words out like venom.