CHAPTER 14 #2
Nothing. Else.
Oh, my. It’s getting hot out here, and it isn’t the tropical sun.
Wow, I’m starting to believe my own lies!
And why wouldn’t I? I’ve been trying not to stare at Julian for the past twenty minutes. Failing. So failing.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs as we walk across the sand.
“I’m, um, observing. You know, for research purposes.”
“Research.”
“I need to describe you to my followers, and that requires me to observe.”
“So tell me, what have you observed?”
That his body looks carved. That he moves like water. That I’ve forgotten how to form coherent thoughts. That despite the sun, his skin doesn’t gleam with sweat like everyone else’s.
“You’re very... symmetrical,” I say.
He laughs. The sound does something to my chest.
“Symmetrical. Of course, I may not know as much about marketing as an influencer like yourself. But I’m not sure that is the best word to go with.”
“I’m being professional.”
“You’re being adorable.”
“I’m never adorable. I’m curated and strategic and—”
“Adorable,” he repeats. Then he takes my hand. Laces our fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go be symmetrical and adorable for your family.”
His palm is cool and dry. Mine is sweating in the heat. I go to make a joke about his ability to avoid perspiration, but Catherine spots us before I can.
Her eyes track from our joined hands up to Julian’s face, and I see her expression shift.
“Poppy,” she says. “Julian. How lovely. We were just discussing the wedding timeline.”
“Sounds riveting,” I say.
Behind us, I hear Serenity’s voice: “Okay, one more. This time look at me like I’m your whole world.”
I don’t turn around. But I feel Julian’s fingers tighten on mine.
“So you two, how long has this been going on?” My mom asks as she motions back and forth between us.
“Four months,” I say—just like we rehearsed. “He was annoyingly persistent.”
“You were worth persisting for.”
“See? Annoying.”
Julian places his hand on my lower back. The touch is light. Deliberate. Designed to look casual.
It doesn’t feel casual.
“You guys need to get out into the water,” Vi pops up out of nowhere, bubbling with way too much energy this early in the morning. “It’s so perfect, Pops!”
“I need to film first,” I say. “Content waits for no woman.”
I pull Julian toward the water’s edge, away from the group. Frame the shot—him standing with waves breaking around his ankles, the Atlantic stretching behind him in shades of blue.
“Look at me,” I call out.
He does. His expression is unguarded. Open.
I take the photo. Then another. Then three more because I can’t stop. His body is absolutely amazing.
“Could you give me one where you’re coming out of the water?”
He starts to walk toward me. I stop him.
“Sorry, Julian. I mean a candid one where you’re coming out of the water after a swim.”
“Oh...” he stops. “Yes, that makes more sense. I’d love to.”
Julian runs—yes, runs—out into the ocean and dives in. I nearly forget to snap shots as I get lost in his elegance. He made it look so easy, and somehow sexy.
Then time seems to slow down, like in the movies, as comes out of the water and tosses his wet hair backward. Luckily, holding down the button of my camera app causes a burst mode; otherwise, I don’t think I could have captured it—that unadulterated moment of beauty.
“Got it?” he asks, snapping me out of my daze.
“Uh, yeah. Got it.”
He walks back to me. Water drips from his hair. I expect his skin to be cool from the ocean, but when he rests his hand on my waist, he’s the same temperature as before. As always. Like the water didn’t touch him.
“Your turn,” he says.
“My turn?”
“In the water. You’ve been filming everyone else. It’s time to focus on you.”
“I don’t—I’m not a water person.”
“You’re at the beach, wearing a swimsuit that somehow makes you even more stunning.”
Yes, my blue one-piece is cute, but not cute enough for me to immortalize in a picture.
“I’m observing on the beach. There’s a difference.”
He takes my phone. Hands it to Vi. “Film this.”
“Film what?”
Then he picks me up. Just lifts me like I weigh nothing.
“Julian! Put me down!”
“In a minute.”
He walks into the water. I’m laughing and protesting and clinging to his shoulders, and I can hear Violet cackling up behind us.
“This is not part of the plan!” I say.
“Plans change.”
“I’m going to kill you!”
“You’re going to thank me. This will get amazing engagement.”
He’s right. I hate that he’s right. Or actually, I think I love it.
The water is warm. Perfect. He sets me down, keeps his hands on my waist to steady me.
We’re waist-deep. Close. The waves push us together.
“This is for the camera,” I say.
“Of course.”
“We’re performing.”
“Absolutely.”
But his hands don’t move. And I don’t step back.
“Julian—”
“Your mother is watching.”
“I know.”
“Preston is watching.”
“I know.”
“We should probably kiss.”
My heart stops. “Probably.”
He leans in. Slow. Giving me time to object. Time to remember this is fake.
I don’t object.
His lips touch mine. Soft. Careful. Testing.
Then deeper. His hand cups my jaw—cool fingers against my sun-warmed skin. My fingers curl into his shoulders.
The water moves around us. The sun beats down. Somewhere, my sister is filming this.
I don’t care.
When we break apart, he’s looking at me like I’m the only real thing in his world.
“That—that was very convincing,” I whisper.
His thumb traces my lower lip. “I wasn’t acting.”