37. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ANDREA
A yacht party is a last-minute event that I talked Julian into attending.
While going over the calendar of events to attend to talk up his foundation, he quickly stumbled across this one, which is partially why it intrigued me.
The other part, well, I’ve never been on a yacht before and there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity.
The night teases the sky as the sun descends, casting the clouds into a purple hue and the earth in a soft gold.
“Who parties on a yacht in December?” I ask on the drive.
His fingers flex on the steering wheel. “We do, apparently,” he responds dryly, tossing me a look.
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of my hot cocoa. “Don’t look at me like that. It was on your calendar.”
He reaches over to gently pinch my thigh through my jeans. I laugh, swatting him away. His smile tugs at my heartstrings. “It’s Felix’s brother’s yacht. It’s his and his fiancé’s engagement party. They’ve been together since high school.”
My brows lift. “Wow.” Curious, I ask, “What does Felix do?”
He glances at me as he turns into the marina’s parking lot. “He’s a club owner.”
“Clubs like. . .Elite, by chance?” I question, thinking back to that night. It makes a lot more sense now.
His lips turn down as his head bobs side to side in thought. “Yes, and other. . .clubs.”
“Like a speakeasy or a gentlemen’s club?” The car comes to a stop as he parks. He turns, his hand holding the shoulder of my seat. Instead of answering my question, he only looks at me. That’s it. . .just looks at me. My head rears back with a laugh. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Quick like a thief, his eyes glance at both of my eyes and then at my mouth.
“I saw that,” I tell him, pointing at him with my cup of cocoa.
The corners of his mouth rise. “Saw what?”
“You just did the triangle method on me.” I sit up straighter as disbelief and pleasure hit me at once.
He gives me a strange look. “The what?”
“Oh please, you know what you did.”
Shrugging, he says, “I don’t, actually.” He jerks his chin, and it really shouldn’t look as seductive as it does. “Show me.”
I huff, setting down my cocoa in the cup holder, and lean forward slightly. I look deeply into his eyes first—maybe a little too long because fuck me they are pretty. I let my eyes fall subtly to his mouth and then back up to each of his eyes.
“See?” My voice sounds breathy. “That’s what you did.”
He does it again and my pulse speeds up. “That?”
I nod, feeling dazed. It’s like I become putty when he looks at me like this. It should scare me more than it excites me.
“Are you thinking about kissing me again, Andrea?” His question is soft, yet husky and I swear he leans closer.
I lick my lips and swallow. “I think you’re thinking about kissing me ,” I jab back weakly. Voices drone into the car from outside, signaling that other guests are arriving.
A dark chuckle. “Andrea.”
“Hm?” I hum absently—dreamily.
“You’re staring at my mouth.”
My eyes flash up to his and I scowl. “I wasn’t. You have something on your face,” I lie.
“Yeah?” he asks and dear god the cockiness behind that one word has me pressing my knees together. “Help me out then?”
I don’t have time to question this game we’re playing before my hand mindlessly reaches over the center console.
My thumb brushes underneath his bottom lip.
I know this is the part I should stop. I know that I shouldn’t be tracing the rest of his face, like the arch of his nose and eyebrows, the points of his cheeks, and the line of his jaw.
When I catch his eyes on my face, taking in every expression I make during my exploration, I pause. My hand falls lazily down his neck, stopping at his collarbone. “I’m really glad I met you,” I say softly.
His face morphs as if my words have pained him. “I’ll take care of you tonight,” he says, “If you want to have fun, I mean. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
His words do something to me. I lean forward and press my lips to his cheek, letting them linger before pulling away. “Thank you,” I murmur, putting distance between us again.
He clears his throat. “Should I make a show of it and slide across the hood to open your door for you?” he asks, his tone playful now.
I smile. “Absolutely. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“Well,” he starts, pulling the handle of the door.
“If it’s what my lady wants.” Then he’s out of the car and I have to ignore the feeling of being called his lady gives me as his hip slides smoothly across the hood.
After opening my door, he straightens the lapels of his jacket, grinning devilishly down at me.
“Ok, now I’m thinking about kissing you.”
He extends his hand, and I take it, standing. His mouth presses against my temple. “Kiss me anytime you want.”
Before I can respond, he’s grabbing our bags and whisking me away.
I forget what I was planning to say anyway once I spot the large yacht at the end of the dock.
Hordes of seagulls squawk in the sky, some of them perched along the dock and boat.
People crowd multiple decks as they mingle.
I eye a few of them dressed to the nines.
I stare down at my clothes wondering if I’ve under-dressed. I’m wearing jeans with sneakers, a sweater, and a jacket.
“You look perfect,” Julian assures me, hand squeezing mine once.
I give him a look. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” he states as we come to a stop in a line where I’m assuming they’re checking invitations.
“Says the man who’s always dressed to impress.”
He smirks, eyes lowering to meet mine. “Is it working?”
“Is what working?”
He leans over and whispers, “Are you impressed?”
I roll my eyes with a laugh as we begin to walk forward. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“Good.”
“But. . .” I trail off, egging him on.
“But what?” he asks, brows dropping.
“The world could benefit from seeing more of the real you.” I think back to the carefree Julian I see at the apartment every morning and night.
It’s like the moment he puts on his suit, something shifts, and a mask goes on.
While I love that I’m one of the few people who get to see that easygoing side to him, I do think others would appreciate it too.
It might be just the push people need to step up to the lines of his foundation and go to war with him.
“Who says this isn’t the real me?”
“It’s not,” I say softly. “It’s just the only version you want people to see.”
He frowns. “I’m an artist. I bare my soul for a living. I practically live my life naked.”
“I’m not talking about your art. I’m talking about The Prince Foundation.
” We reach the security bouncer and Julian hands him the invitation with his ID.
With a jerk of a chin, we move to cross the gangway.
Once we step onto the boat, I turn to Julian.
“All I’m saying is that your story matters— The full one .
Sometimes, to get people to care about the future they need to know the past. Maybe if you share that part of your life, the right person will hear it. ”
His lips press into a thin line. “I’m afraid that some things are better left untold.”
“You’re wrong.” I shake my head. “Give them a reason. Tell them why the foundation is so important to you and why it should be important to them.”
“It’s not as easy as you’re making it sound.”
His jaw ticks, but I push again. He has to see that his story matters, too. “It won’t be easy, I know that. Look, Julian, I can’t pretend I know what you went through in the system, but I’d like to try and then maybe—”
“No,” he snaps. I blink in surprise at his outburst. His anger deflates with a shake of his head, causing regret to morph into his features. “ Forgive me. A moment, please.”
He releases my hand, and it puts a pang in my heart—an ache I can’t begin to understand if he won’t let me. I watch him walk away and disappear through a glass door all while wishing I would have never opened my mouth.