7. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
ANDREA
I’ve been hiding in my room, planning to avoid Julian as much as possible until I’m able to find a new place.
I know he said I’m allowed to stay, but now that he’s here, I feel out of place.
I’d been living in la la land before his arrival.
Deep down, I’m glad he offered to let me stay. I do love this apartment.
Mortification still rushes through me in random spouts every time my brain reverts back to the memory of dancing in my underwear. I can’t help but wonder how much he saw—how long he was standing there watching me.
He’s a gorgeous specimen of a man. His midnight black hair causes his eyes to pop.
At first glance, they’re gray, but in certain lighting, they’re a pale blue.
They’re intense. No, he’s intense. I could stare at him all day and fawn over every part of him.
God, the lean build of him and the muscular lines in his abdomen—
I roll over, pressing my face into my pillow as I groan.
Who the hell looks that delicious in the morning?
I wish I had an escape route. My old apartment at least gave me the option of a fire escape. Here, there’s only one option; the front door, which is about a mile hike from my room.
Ok, it’s not that far, but the chances of me running into him on the way there are very likely. Especially since I hear the padding of his feet as he walks around. I’m so painfully aware of the quiet that I wince every time I make the slightest sound.
Does he always keep this place filled with deafening silence? I would usually have music or the TV blaring, not wanting to be alone with my thoughts. Maybe he likes to hear his thoughts; how weird.
I grab my phone and my fingers twitch over the keyboard before I decide what to text Carter. I’m going to kill you.
I hit send. Feeling satisfied with that, I scroll through my contacts for my best friend. You’re never going to believe the morning I’ve had.
I fall back onto the bed with a sigh and stare through the window, gazing out over the city while I wait for her response. It comes faster than expected.
Did your prince finally come to kiss you awake?
I snort. No, but he caught me dancing in my underwear.
Her response is immediate. OMG!!! How sexy ;)
I was wearing my period panties…
I watch the bubble appear for a few seconds, and then it drops away. A minute passes and then my phone rings. The noise is so abrupt that I grimace, quickly answering it with a stuttering thumb. The moment I press the phone to my ear, I only hear laughter.
“Did you call me just so I could hear you laugh at me?” Instead of answering my question, she keeps laughing. “It’s not that funny,” I say dryly.
“You’ve made my entire life,” she says in between breaths.
My brows lift at her statement. “Wow, the bar must be pretty low.”
“It is,” she says matter-of-factly. “So is he hot?”
“I’m not answering that question,” I tell her. He totally is, but I’m not admitting it. I barely know him. I have to see if he’s worth being labeled as hot out loud.
There’s a beat of silence and I can imagine her rolling her eyes at me. Before she can ask again, I blurt out in a hushed whisper, “He told me I could stay as long as I’d like. What does that even mean?”
She gasps. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” My eyes dart to my closed door. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. As long as he’s hot and not a serial killer, I support this decision.”
I sigh, fighting a smile. “Of course you do.”
“I’m going back to sleep now, but you better send me updates.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you.”
“Love you!”
We hang up and I check my texts, finding a response from Carter. I plead the fifth.
IT'S BEEN TWO DAYS since Julian told me I could stay. That’s two days of successfully avoiding the man like the plague. It’s not as if it’s been hard since he was hardly ever home. It crossed my mind that he might be avoiding me too.
We’ve kept up pleasantries whenever we cross paths, of course, but much to Maisie’s dismay, there has been no getting to know each other.
After being relentless in my anger toward Carter, he finally answered my call, and I demanded we grab lunch.
The last place I expected to be having lunch was in a five-star restaurant wearing a sweatshirt.
It has guilt written all over it and when he pulled out my chair before sitting, I knew he was trying to butter me up for an apology.
I watch him in tense silence as he cuts into his steak, avoiding my eyes at all costs. I stab my knife into the center of my grilled chicken before cutting it rather aggressively and the table shakes from my effort. My eyes fall to the bob of his throat as he swallows.
The waitress walks over, a welcoming smile plastered on her face. “How is everything?”
“It’s great, thank you,” Carter answers.
She chews her bottom lip, appearing flustered by his eye contact. It’s incredibly disturbing. “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
It doesn't take a genius to understand the innuendo. His grin causes her to blush. Oh, for crying out loud.
“Actually,” I speak up, drawing her eyes to me. Carter lifts his glass of water to take a sip at the same time I ask, “Can I get a sharper knife?”
He coughs, choking on the ice-cold liquid. The waitress quickly places a hand on his shoulder in concern. “Oh no, are you okay?”
He shakes his head, his fist pressed against his mouth. “Please don’t give her a sharper knife,” he wheezes.
The waitress glances over at me, clearly confused. I shrug, popping a piece of buttered bread in my mouth. She gives us both a weak smile; not as confident as before. “Let me know if I can get you guys anything else.”
She walks away before either of us can respond. It’s probably for the best.
“You’re acting like I’m holding you here hostage,” I say dryly. “Are you not enjoying my company?”
Finally, he looks at me and then glances at the exit near our table. “Am I allowed to leave?”
“No.”
He chuckles, tossing a fry into his mouth. “Well, at least I’m getting a free meal out of it.”
I rein in my frustration. Fine, maybe his goal isn’t to butter me up. If he’s not going to apologize, then I’ll be damned if I pay for this meal. I feign a wince. “I sort of uh. . .forgot my wallet in my office.”
This causes his short-lived amusement to seize. “Of course you did.” He lets it go rather quickly as he shovels a piece of steak into his mouth and asks, “How’s work going, anyway?”
I stab a piece of chicken on my plate hard enough that it causes the silverware lying on the surface of the table to clink.
“Is that all you want to ask me about?” Carter grimaces and I finally see the guilt he feels but I don’t let it sway me.
“You could have at least given me his name and warned me he was coming home early. Do you know how creepy it was to realize I slept soundly, not knowing there was another person inside the apartment?”
“I’m sorry,” he says and wipes a hand over his mouth. “Incredibly.”
“I was wearing my period panties, Carter. It was mortifying .” I press my palms to my cheeks as they begin to heat again. He laughs at me as if I’m being ridiculous. I throw a piece of broccoli at him, and it hits him in the forehead. “Don’t laugh at me. I already got enough of that from Maisie.”
He wipes the back of his hand over his forehead, trying to mask his smile. “I’m sorry.”
“You already said that. What else do you have?”
Throwing up his hands, he leans back in the seat. “That’s it.”
I open my mouth and then close it. “You’re the worst cousin ever. ”
“I’m your favorite cousin and listen, Julian is a perfectly good guy. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have let you stay there.”
My eyes narrow. “I found it quite interesting that he seemed just as surprised by my presence as I was by his.”
He shrugs. “It was all very last minute. The minor details slipped my mind.”
I ground my teeth, biting back a snide remark. At the end of the day, I’m not homeless and everything worked out. I know for a fact Carter wouldn’t have let me stay with someone he didn’t trust.
“How do you even know him?”
His head bobs from side to side as he chews his food.
Swallowing, he says, “I went to this art gallery to meet with a client. His wife was completely fascinated with art in all ways and he wanted to find a new piece for her collection for her birthday. I was pretending to know what the hell he was talking about.”
“Who was the client?”
“George Finley.”
My lips pull down as I nod, impressed. He’s played in the NFL for Florida for almost six years now. Clearly, Carter was successful enough that he chose to keep him as an agent and even as a friend.
“Anyway, while I was word vomiting, Julian had casually managed to slide himself into the conversation. While I ended up thankful for it, at first, I was like, who the hell is this guy ?” He smiles as if fond of the memory.
“It was like they were speaking in a different language and at one point, I’m pretty sure they fucking were. ”
Shaking his head, he continues, “Turns out the artist his wife loves was Julesian—who happened to be standing right in front of us.”
The blood drains from my face, and my stomach drops. “What? ”
He gives me a strange look. “Julian’s an artist. Did he not tell you that?”
I shake my head as I think back to the paintings that line the walls of his apartment. I practically insulted his work. I pinch my eyes shut. Idiot .
“What’s wrong?”
Shaking my head, I set down my fork and knife as I slowly but surely lose my appetite. “I didn’t know that,” is all I can manage to say.
“His pseudonym, or that he was an artist?”
“Either,” I answer. “I didn’t know either of those things.” I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, already exploring different apologies in my head.
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” Carter tells me, observing me as a hint of panic blazes in his eyes.
I try to give him a deadpan expression, but I don’t know if it works. “And you’re forming a permanent wrinkle between your brows from glowering too much, but you don’t hear me telling you that, do you?”
“You just did.” I don’t miss the subtle way he briefly touches the barely visible wrinkle. “Why the hell are you freaking out so much?”
“Uh.” I scratch my neck, wincing at the memory.
I avoid his eyes as I admit, “I may have unknowingly mentioned something along the lines of not being a fan of his work.” He’s quiet for too long and I grow impatient for his thoughts.
When I drag my eyes back to his, he’s smiling. “This is not a smiling matter.”
With one big bite, Carter finishes the last of his steak. I wait for him to chew and swallow before he finally acknowledges what I said. “I can 99 percent guarantee you that he wasn’t offended in the slightest,” he says easily.
I contemplate this, tilting my head. “Really?” At his nod, I ask, “You know him that well?”
He wipes his hands on a white napkin cloth. “Julian is one of the most laid-back people I have ever met in my life.”
I frown at this. “I’m laid back.”
He barks a laugh, drawing some stares from other tables. “You’re a ball of stress.”
“I am not.” I cross my arms, growing offended. I know I’m not the most relaxed person in the world, but a ball of stress is a bit extreme.
“The only time you’ve ever been serene is when you dance.” He says this sentence with less gentleness than I always expect. He doesn’t speak softly about the fact that I teach ballet instead of performing it—not like the rest of the family does.
So often I feel like they look at me and see a missed opportunity.
They pitied me openly, and it ruined something inside of me.
I have no problems with the life I now live.
Back then, I was young and decided to be reckless for once in my life before heading off to school.
It was the night that every plan I ever made seized and vanished.
Carter is the only one who never looked at me differently.
Gaining some of my appetite back, I resume eating my meal. I’m about to say something, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glancing at it. Frowning, he declines the call.
“Not important?” I ask, before shoveling more food into my mouth.
He stares at the screen for a moment longer, before pushing it back into the pocket of his jeans. Looking up at me, he shakes his head. I can take a hint and see that he doesn’t want to say anything more about it.
I quickly finish the rest of my food and the waitress comes to take our plates away. The silence that has spread between us isn’t the awkward kind, but he decides to squander it anyway .
“What the hell are period panties?” His face nauseates me.
“I hope your teeth fall out,” I snap with a glare.
He frowns. “Hey.”
I huff. “Sorry.”