50. Chapter Forty #2
“Sure,” Miles answers dryly with a strange look on his face. “I’m going to grab another beer. Anyone want anything?”
We all shake our heads in unison. Willa lifts a brow at his back as he walks away. “Your brother has been so cranky today. What’s his problem?”
Mason’s brows scrunch as he watches his brother from a distance. “Seems fine to me.”
Willa scoffs at him. “What do you think Andrea?”
Blinking a few times, I ask, “What do I think of what?”
“Miles’ attitude.”
I shrug, exasperated with her need to read people. “Maybe he’s just tired of hearing you talk about yourself all night.”
Her mouth falls open. When Mason does a terrible mask of hiding his laugh with a cough, she smacks him in the arm. I can feel Julian’s mouth pressed against my head, no doubt hiding his smile.
“You get so mean when you’re tired,” Willa notes, annoyance dripping into her tone as she leans back in her seat with her arms crossed.
I roll my eyes. “You told me that you hated my sweater thirty minutes ago. ”
“It’s the truth. It’s horrendous.”
“I love your sweater,” Julian tells me for the second time, but adds, “It’s very festive.”
I smile, bringing his hand to my mouth to kiss. “Thank you.”
He reaches over to press the button on my sweater, causing the lights on the tree to light up.
Miles comes back with his beer and a bitter look on his face.
I hide my frown and make a mental note to check in with him later.
I don’t want to put him on blast or in a situation where my sister can interrogate him.
“Everything good?” Mason asks his brother.
Miles gives a subtle nod before taking a few gulps of his beer. He sets it down on the table—a little harder than necessary—before turning his attention to my boyfriend.
“So, what made you want to visit Maine with Andrea?” he asks plainly. “Where are your folks for the holiday?”
My shoulders tense and Julian must feel it because he rubs his hand over my thigh in a soothing gesture. Clearing his throat, he responds, “My parents died when I was eight.”
Immediate remorse flashes over Miles’ face. “Shit, man, sorry.”
“It’s all right. Honest mistake.” Julian brushes it off easily, but I find myself threading my fingers with his anyway and holding on tightly.
“I have a sister—Abigail. She didn’t get placed until she was fifteen and that’s when we met.
She celebrates with her family. I usually join them, but I had other priorities this year, which she understands. ”
Oh my god, I’m a priority. My heart rate picks up and a strange sort of giddiness overcomes me. Me. A priority to someone. Ha!
“You have a sister?” Willa asks curiously.
Julian nods. “We’re not blood relatives, but she’s family to me. She didn’t get placed until she was fifteen and that’s when we met. She was adopted, I wasn’t.”
“What was it like growing up in foster care?” The question comes from Mason. I think it’s the first time he’s been genuinely interested in something Julian-related.
Julian’s eyes connect with mine briefly. All he has to say is ‘cinnamon’ and I’ll pretend to faint. Deciding on something, he looks back over at Mason. “Dehumanizing,” is his answer, and it breaks my heart.
Willa presses a hand to her chest. “I can’t even imagine.”
He looks uncomfortable with their pitying stares.
An idea crosses my mind and before I can stop myself, I’m blurting, “He started a foundation. The Prince Foundation. It helps children have better access to resources and funds to give them a better chance of survival in and outside of the system.” I keep talking even though I feel the heat of Julian’s stare.
He needs to know how much good he’s doing even when he can’t help thinking it’ll never be enough.
He’s giving them hope in places where he had none.
“It’s brilliant. The investors are basically employers investing in their future employees and agents investing in potentially drafted athletes.
It’s going to do so much good I can already see it.
It’s going to be huge and wonderful. It’ll lure more investors in every state across the country and most importantly, gain attention at the federal level. ”
“Oh my, that sounds amazing,” Willa praises, looking at Julian. “How long have you been working on something like this?”
I glance over at Julian. “What has it been? About three-ish years?” I ask and his response is a slight dip of his chin.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me and I can’t quite get a read on his expression before turning back to the one with an intrigued calculating look on his face.
“Do you think your company would be interested in something like that?”
Mason nods slowly, his brows drawn in thought. “It’s definitely possible. I’ll make a few calls after the holiday and see what the board thinks.”
Willa blows out a breath. “Oh please, Mikayla is going to be all over that. She lives for stuff like this. It’ll be a done deal and you know it.” Mikayla is one of her good friends. They met at one of Mason’s work events and bonded over their love for gossip.
He lifts a single brow at her. “Mikayla’s in PR, she’s not on the board.”
“That may be so but she carries that place on her back. They’ll listen to her if they know what’s good for them.”
Warmth washes over me at the possible new investor for Julian. Bouncing in my seat, I beam up at him. “Maybe you should take me with you to your meetings. I'm kind of good at this.”
He leans over and whispers in my ear, “Come with me.”
When he slides out of the booth without a second glance back, I follow, suddenly not sure if I’ve somehow overstepped. He reaches his hand out behind him when the crowd thickens and I grab onto him as he leads us to the bathroom hallway.
“Julian, what—”
My words fall off the moment he turns and slams his lips on mine.
He walks me backward until my back hits the wall, using the back of his hand to protect my head.
He devours me with a hunger that sets my soul on fire.
His other hand is wrapped possessively around my neck, but not squeezing.
He consumes every part of me as I do everything I can to pull him closer.
I’m certain I’ve left behind scratches on the back of his neck from my efforts.
“You drive me insane,” he growls, dipping his head to nip at my neck before gently sucking the skin.
“I thought I upset you,” I breathe, clutching his coat tightly to ensure he doesn’t move away.
“Upset me?” he asks, lifting his head to look down at me with drawn brows. “No, Andrea. You talking about my foundation like it matters doesn’t upset me. It does the opposite.”
“I’m in your corner, Julian,” I tell him, threading my fingers through his dark hair. “What matters to you will always matter to me. It’s going to change so many lives.”
“I don’t know that I’ve had this before,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb over my bottom lip. “Is it wrong to admit out loud that I’m afraid?”
His admittance hurts my heart. “Why are you afraid?”
He shakes his head slightly as something akin to pain dims his eyes. “I already told you, love doesn’t—”
I tug him closer, pressing my mouth roughly against his. “Stop saying that.”
He drops his forehead to mine with a shaky breath. “It’s true.”
I shake my head, wishing he could feel exactly how I feel about him. “It doesn’t have to be.”
Silence.
“How can you still feel that way?”
“Andrea—”
“What if mine does?” I plead, pointing at the thing beating inside my chest. “What if mine stays?”
“You don’t think I want that?” He presses his mouth to my forehead, before whispering, “If love could stay, let it be yours.”
He pulls away, smiling softly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He brushes another kiss over my forehead but says nothing as he takes my hand in his and leads us back to the table.
We stay for another half hour and I mostly go back to being quiet as Julian tells everyone more about the foundation.
I think he’s finally seeing just how much he inspires goodness in other people.
He lights up more and more as Mason asks more questions.
A business card is given and I think even a few genuine smiles.
I make eye contact with Willa every so often and it’s always to find her smiling at me.
I think she’s finally seeing how happy I am—not that it’s easy to hide.
Julian has brought more happiness into my life than I ever thought possible.
I’ve never liked to rely on other people, but when it comes to him, I get the urge to do just that.
To completely let go and let myself feel everything my heart wants and to act on those things without the fear of being pushed away.
Love doesn’t stay. It never does for me.
I want to prove him wrong. He needs to know that the right kind always does. All his life, he has been failed by those who were meant to care for him. I can’t blame him for seeing love in this way. He’s gone through unimaginable things that make my soul want to shrink away.
But not from him—never from him.
How do you convince a man who’s covered in scars that you won’t give him anymore?
How do you prove your love to someone like that?
The answer is you stay .
No matter what.