Chapter 34
The knock came just past eleven.
I was curled up on the couch, half-asleep, a dog-eared copy of ‘The Way We Move’ in my lap. Dad was already in bed — he had an early morning tomorrow — and the house was quiet except for the hum of the heater.
When I opened the door, Ansel stood there, hands in his pockets, looking unfairly good in jeans and a worn baseball cap.
“It’s late,” I whispered.
“I know.” His grin was sheepish, crooked. “Can you come outside?”
My brows lifted. “Why?”
“Because your dad likes me too much for me to ruin it by sneaking through his house like a teenager.”
I rolled my eyes but stepped out anyway, closing the door behind me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Correct.”
It was cold. He must’ve noticed the way I shivered, because without a word he tugged me into his jacket, his arm wrapping around me like it was the easiest thing in the world.
God, the way I melted against his chest, the way his arms curled around me… it felt real. It felt just adjacent to forever. If I weren’t careful, I could catch myself making a really stupid mistake.
And yet… we wandered down the street like that — quiet, aimless, laughing under our breath at nothing at all. It felt… young. Careless in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
Somewhere between the corner and the park, he stopped walking. “Are you cold?” He turned, eyes studying my face with great scrutiny.
“Maybe a little? It is almost midnight in Seattle.”
“Let’s get you home.” He looped his arm through mine and turned us back to my house.
I tried — failed — to tamper down the grin that I felt tugging at the corner of my lips. “Did you come all this way just for a walk?”
He shook his head, sandy curls falling into his eyes. “No, it’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Would you want to…” I avoided his eyes, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “Would you want to come in for a nightcap?” I scuffed one shoe against the other.
His fingers curled around my chin, tilting my gaze back up to his. “Are you trying to sneak me into your bedroom after hours, Ms. Haddock?”
If it were possible, I blushed harder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” I groaned, pulling away from his grasp and his warmth.
“Come back here,” I heard him jogging up behind me. I didn’t need to see him to hear the grin he was sporting. He caught up quickly, his arms looping lazily around my middle, pulling me back into him.
I squealed as he spun me around.
“Ansel!” I gasped, swatting playfully at the arms around my middle. He nestled his nose behind my ear, but didn’t say anything.
After a minute, he let me go, mostly. He slid his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together as she walked up the road.
I stopped right outside the door. “Okay.” I took a deep breath. “My dad’s room is upstairs; my place is in the basement. We’ve just got—”
“Hush. I’ll be good.” But his voice was low. But his fingers were drawing senseless patterns up and down my arm.
But maybe I didn’t want him to be.
With our hands still intertwined, I pulled him down the dark hallway, stifling a laugh as he tripped on the hall rug.
We made it down the basement stairs when my back hit the wall, crowded by Ansel’s large frame, his hands on either side of my face. He had me trapped, and his grin — his grin… devastating.
“Thought you said you’d be good,” I whispered, breathless already.
He leaned in, nose brushing the shell of my ear. “I’m trying,” he murmured, voice low enough to ruin me. His nose traced along my jaw, slow, reverent. “God, Juniper,” he whispered, almost like he hated himself for saying it out loud. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
“Ansel,” I breathed, my hands creeping up his chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his shirt. For one dizzy second… I thought he might kiss me.
He pulled back just for a quick second. “Lead the way, pretty girl.” His voice was quiet, a painful kind of restrained.
By the time we made it to my room, we were both laughing too hard to care about being quiet.
“Shhh,” I hissed, trying to hold back a giggle as I pushed him toward the bed. “You’re gonna get us caught—”
He flopped backward dramatically, taking me with him when our hands stayed linked.
“Ansel!” I gasped, landing half on his chest.
He just grinned up at me, completely unrepentant. “What? I said I’d be good. I didn’t say I’d be quiet.”
I tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when he looked like that — hat off now, sandy curls falling loose across his forehead, grin warm enough to melt me into the mattress.
I slid to sit beside him, but he caught my wrist and tugged until I was lying back too, shoulder to shoulder.
“You’re trouble,” I muttered, turning my face toward his.
“Correct,” he said easily, eyes sparkling.
“At least take your shoes off if you’re going to lie in my bed.” He sat up so fast, tugging his shoes off and tossing them somewhere off to the side.
We just… stayed there. The room was dim, quiet except for our breathing, my heart pounding in my ears. His arm shifted, the back of his hand brushing against mine on the blanket. Like he were testing the waters.
I laced our fingers together.
His exhale was soft, shaky. “Junie.”
“Yeah?”
His eyes searched my face, as if he could memorize every piece of me.
“There’s this thing,” he started, voice low.
“A red carpet event. Nothing big, just press for the new project from ‘The Way We Move’s director. And I was wondering if…” He paused, smiled faintly, almost sheepishly. “If you’d come with me.”
My chest squeezed. “As your fake girlfriend?”
His grin turned downward slowly. “Sure. If that’s what you want to call it.”
I bit my lip, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I don’t have a dress for something like that.”
His free hand came up, brushing a stray curl away from my face with the lightest touch. “I already bought you one.”
I blinked. “You what?”
“Couldn’t help myself,” he admitted, thumb grazing my cheekbone. “Saw it and thought of you.”
Something in my stomach flipped violently.
“You’re impossible,” I whispered, though it didn’t sound convincing even to me. “Yes, I’ll go.”
We lay there like that for a while, fingers tangled, the air warm and too sweet. He didn’t try to kiss me again. But every brush of his thumb against my hand felt like a promise.
“Hey Ansel?” I whispered into the dark, finding that my voice sounded a little timid.
“What’s up, kid?” The light in the room was gone, but I felt him shift closer to me.
“What was it like… after the precursors ended? For you, I mean.” I pressed my face against his arm, hoping that between this and the dark, he wouldn’t be able to see the way my cheeks were flaring.
“Hell, Juniper.” He replied with a laugh. “It was hell.” He rolled a little, as though he could meet my eyes in the black. “I received hate mail and death threats for years after everything ended. Grown men screaming at me in the fucking grocery store.”
A shiver ran down my spine. I had seen some of it online, through forums and social media, but… I couldn’t even imagine what it might have been like for him.
“They told me, consistently, that I ruined the ‘greatest villain of their generation’ with my acting.” His hand was skirting up my spine slowly, almost absentmindedly.
“Moonstrider wasn’t my first role by any means, but it was my first…
big thing. The thing I would be remembered for.
I was barely twenty — I don’t think I could even drink yet, and the death threats happened hourly. ”
“Did it ever get better?”
“Once I took a step back from acting, yeah. Mostly because I was unreachable. Out of sight, out of mind. They moved on to something new — someone they considered worse.” His hand stilled at the base of my neck. “Still get one, every once in a while. They don’t bother me like they used to.”
“Ansel… would you… maybe want to stay? Just tonight?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He pulled me close, pressing his lips to my clammy forehead. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
I let myself melt into him, cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his shirt. “No funny business,” I whispered, though my voice wavered — like I wasn’t sure if I believed the rule anymore.
“Scout’s honor,” he said, tightening his arm around me, voice warm with amusement.