Chapter 41
The light woke me first — thin stripes cutting through the blinds and pooling across the sheets. Juniper was still asleep, her cheek pressed to my arm, hair tangled and messy, lips parted.
She looked so goddamn peaceful like that. I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, careful not to wake her, and just… watched her for a second.
A man could get used to this.
When she finally stirred, her lashes fluttering; I kissed her shoulder. “Morning, kid.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, burying her face deeper into the pillow.
“Lazy,” I teased.
“Warm,” she shot back, voice muffled.
“Our flight’s tomorrow,” I grinned, pulling her closer against me. “We could stay in bed all day. Let everyone else fend for themselves.”
That earned me a quiet laugh, barely there but real.
Eventually, she rolled over, hair in her face, and I caught her wrist when she tried to brush it away — brought her palm to my lips instead. Her cheeks flushed, and she muttered, “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you mean it.”
“Maybe I do.”
Her gaze darted away, but I didn’t miss the way her breath caught.
We finally got up — slowly, unhurried. She stole another one of my shirts and padded barefoot to the kitchenette while I made coffee. She perched on the counter, legs swinging idly, looking like she belonged there. Like she’d been there a hundred times before.
I handed her the mug and stood between her knees, letting my hands rest on her thighs. “You know,” I said after a moment, brushing my thumb along her jaw, “my mom’s been begging to meet you.”
That got her attention. Her brows lifted.
My heart thudded in my chest. It was a wonder she couldn’t hear it from where she sat. My mom had been asking to meet the girl with the curls and the grin and the personality that had sent me ‘head over heels’.
“She’ll be in town this weekend,” I went on. “Thought we could grab dinner. She’s going to love you.” For a second, she just blinked at me, lips parting like she couldn’t believe I’d said it.
“You’re serious,” she said softly.
“Dead serious.” I gave her a small smile, suddenly nervous in a way I wasn’t used to being. “Figured it was about time, yeah?”
She opened her mouth, closed it again. And then — she laughed.
“Oh, Ansel.” She waved a hand like I was being ridiculous. “Come on. We’re not actually doing that. You’re not really talking about introducing your mom to your fake girlfriend, are you?”
The smile dropped from my face before I could stop it.
I must have misheard her.
I blinked once, brow furrowed. But she didn’t repeat herself, didn’t clarify or qualify what she had just said.
“Juniper—” My voice wasn’t as soft as I wanted it to be, quite the opposite, in fact. “D’you wanna run that by me again?”
I watched her swallow, watched as her eyes grew wide and she tried to shrink herself. But she shook her head.
“Help me understand, June.” My eyes narrowed. I didn’t want to shout, that wasn’t the answer. “Help me understand what about this—” I pointed to both of us. “—is fake to you.”
“I—” She started, but clamped her mouth shut tight.
“No, no. Please Haddock.” God. “Explain how you separate it.”
“I didn’t mean—” She took a deep breath, and I could see from across the room how shaky it was. “It’s just different. You know? Just for the public eye.”
“For the public eye.” I laughed. “And what was last night, June? Were you livestreaming while my head was between your legs? Did the public watch you come undone on my tongue?”
Her cheeks flushed, still avoiding my gaze.
“I didn’t think so.”
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself, but my chest was too tight. “God, you’re just like him.”
Her head snapped up, eyes flashing.
“Joel.” I let the name hang there, sharp as glass. “The guy who treated you like you were disposable. Maybe you liked it better that way — easier than actually being chosen for once.”
She flinched, visibly.
“Fuck.” I turned my back, jaw tight. “I’ll book you an earlier flight home.” My hand trembled just above the hotel room doorknob. “I need to get out of here. My driver will pick you up when it’s time for your flight.”
I turned around.
I shouldn’t have.
Her eyes were glassy, lips parted just enough to hurt. “For the record, Juniper… You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted to take home to my mother.”
Pulling the door open, I paused. Begging, pleading, for her to say something.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t stop me. Didn’t fight me.
So I left. And the door slammed behind me — final and cold.