13. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
ANDREA
I’m lying on the sofa in the sitting room, flipping through a cookbook as the rain patters against the windows.
We’re in the clouds today; the city below is hidden from sight.
Everything about this place is so peaceful and still.
It’s a battle to keep myself from falling deeper in love with this luxurious way of life.
The call from my sister was the slap in the face I needed.
While I could have done without the thirty-minute recap on the entire family, it was nice to hear her voice.
Well, besides the part where she started asking too many questions about my life.
They always led to the same place—the Willa is better than Andrea place.
When the front door opens. I quickly stuff the thick book under the cushion next to me and sit back in the most casual way I can muster.
When Julian steps into the foyer, he freezes, and I remember I’m wearing a green tea face mask. My instinct is to peel it off my face, but I have five minutes left and it cost me twenty bucks.
After I told Maisie who he was, she looked him up and fangirled on the phone for an hour. It seems that Julian Havord is a big fucking deal and “hot as fuck”—those are Maisie’s words.
“You’re here early,” he states, a slight wrinkle appearing between his brows.
I don’t miss how he doesn’t say ‘home’. He hasn’t said it since the other day in my office.
He’s wearing a blue suit, enhancing the color of his eyes and making him ten times more intimidating than I’m comfortable with.
I wonder when my heart will stop beating so frantically at the sight of him.
I think back to the note I found this morning that he slid beneath my door.
It’s the first time I’ve smiled first thing in the morning in a long time. He also gave me way too much money. I don’t know how much he thinks a box costs, but it’s not fifty dollars. I ended up using the rest to buy him some new succulents.
My eyes note his five o’clock shadow as he steps further into the apartment. He tosses his keys on the side table as he undoes the two buttons of his jacket. He then works the top buttons of his collared dress shirt. I can’t lie, the man is a mouth-watering kind of good-looking.
Forcing myself to come back down to earth, I realize I still haven’t responded. I clear my throat before saying, “So are you.” Smooth .
He squints, a twinkle appearing in his eyes as he moves to sit next to me on the sofa.
“Keeping tabs on me, eh?” I don’t have time to answer that because the moment he sits, he notices the uneven lump of the cushion and frowns at his lap.
There are at least eight other seating options, and he just had to sit right next to me.
When he looks at me, I shrug and reach for the glass of white wine sitting on the coffee table. I take two big gulps as he lifts the cushion and frees the cookbook. “Why is there a cookbook under the cushion?”
Narrowing my eyes at the book when he faces it toward me, I shake my head and blow air out of my mouth. “Beats me.”
He laughs. Sitting back down, he starts to flip through it. “Is there a reason you’re hiding a cookbook like it’s a naughty magazine?”
My cheeks flush slightly. “My sister is coming to the city,” I say as if that’ll explain everything.
His brows twitch downward. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Wow, you know, for having such a big mouth, Carter hasn’t told you much, huh?” I breathe a laugh at his answering smile and ‘Are you really that surprised?’ look. “Her name’s Willa.”
He nods slowly in thought. “Are you two close?”
I chew the inside of my cheek, not wanting to dig up that hatchet. “We used to be closer. It’s complicated and kind of. . .messy.” I tuck my legs under me as I face him fully. Before he can ask me any more questions about it, I say, “About the cookbook, if you must know, I’m not the best cook.”
His smile grows at that. “And you’re embarrassed by this fact?”
“No,” I tell him defensively and then my face pinches in admittance. “Sort of. I actually almost burned down the building.”
His brows lift. “Pardon?”
I wave a hand dismissively. “Relax, my frittata was fine.”
He stares at me for a moment, blinking and I force myself to stay strong against his unwavering stare that pries for more information. He surprises me when he lets it go. “Does your sister still live in Maine?” To the surprise on my face, he adds, “Carter does tell me some things, you know.”
I release a breathy laugh. Right. “She does and she’s coming here with a purpose; to talk me into visiting for Christmas this year.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know.” I love my older sister more than anything, but she can be a lot sometimes.
She’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind and she tends to overshare every little detail of my life—secrets included—all while not sharing any of hers.
There’s only a three-year age difference between us, but she acts like it’s ten.
Like the rest of my family, she can be overbearing. I understand it though. Six years ago, I was the worst version of myself. I’d be worried too if that’s the last image they have in their minds. It’s why I’m determined to show her that I’m fine, which I am now.
He nods like I’m making sense to him, and I appreciate the effort. “And the cookbook?”
“I invited her and her husband to dinner. . .here.” I grimace, feeling like I’ve overstepped. “I’m sorry, that’s inappropriate, isn’t it? I should have asked you first. This is your home and I’m just this big burden that waltzed into your door. I can cancel if you want me to. Should I? I can—”
“Andrea.”
I tense, expecting him to be angry, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah?”
“Breathe.”
I take a deep breath, loosening my shoulders. “Right,” I say, giving him a sheepish smile.
The way he’s looking at me makes me feel naked—like his eyes are stripping me bare and digging under my skin.
I never thought in a million years that I would use the word ‘pretty’ to describe a man, but here we are.
“First off, you’re not a burden. Second, when will they be here?
” He asks, standing and I catch the drool-enticing scent of his cologne.
I swallow thickly. “Tomorrow night.”
“I can make myself scarce. I mean, if that's what you want.”
My brows furrow. “No! No, of course not. I would never ask you to do that. The distraction might be nice actually.”
“Then I’ll stay,” he says and then his face settles with determination. “So, do we hate her or like her?”
“Huh?”
“Your sister.”
I cover my mouth to fight off a smile. He doesn’t need the full story to be on my side, I realize; he already is. “Am I allowed to say, ‘to be determined’?”
“Absolutely,” he says with a dip of his chin. He shrugs the blue jacket off his shoulders and lays it over the side of the couch. I watch every single one of his movements like I would study a dance routine.
When he undoes the cuff links of his shirt, my jaw loosens. His eyes bore into mine as he folds the sleeve up to his forearm. “Get up.”
My mouth goes dry and my tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Why?”
His eyes fall to my mouth. “I’m going to teach you.”
My eyes widen. “T-teach me what?”
He walks over to gently take the wine glass from my hand and then he does the last thing I expect, he downs the rest of it like a shot. When he looks back down at me, a smirk grows on his face. “How to cook, Andrea. What else?”
IT'S NEARLY AN HOUR past midnight and a bottle of wine later Julian decides that the safest option for everyone is Bucatini Carbonara, a pasta. It seems easy enough, but I’ll definitely need him to write down everything step by step. He did most of the work, which is why it tastes marvelous.
“Who taught you how to cook?” I ask, taking an unnecessary sip of my wine. My head is light on my shoulders and relaxation has taken over my entire body. Somehow, I managed to find a seat on top of the counter. I’m convinced I have the best view to ever exist in the entire world.
He stands in front of me, dressed in black sweatpants and a gray T-shirt now after I accidentally touched his fancy shirt with sauce fingers. His arms are crossed, and he wears a tipsy smile; a smile I no doubt wore myself.
He swipes a hand over his mouth as if attempting to remove it, but it’s still in his eyes. “I taught myself.”
I snort. “Of course you did. Is there anything at all you can’t do?”
Julian laughs and the carefree sound of it takes me by surprise for a moment because this one is different from the other ones he’s given.
I hear him on the phone sometimes, sounding aggravated.
I couldn’t help but notice the faint dark circles under his eyes.
He works a lot. If not at his studio, he’s going to a meeting.
For what, I didn’t know. I planned to ask Carter, but the thought of not asking Julian to his face felt silly.
“I can’t for the life of me figure out how to convert a Word document into a PDF. ”
I chuckle. “Oh my god, you’re such a grandpa.” At his offended face, I laugh harder. “I’ll teach you. What else?” I ask, taking another bite of pasta.
He uncrosses his arms, propping them on the counter behind him before lifting himself onto it. He studies me for a moment and if my skin wasn’t already blushed from the wine, I’d be doing it anyway. “If I got pulled over and the cops told me to count backward from one hundred, I’m toast.”