13. Ian
THIRTEEN
IAN
As I wake up I can feel something’s missing, but it’s not in the way I usually do. No, what’s missing is the warmth of my best friend after my failed attempt to kiss him.
I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, but I don’t see Jules anywhere. The bathroom door is open and silent. Where is he?
I grab my phone and see no messages from him, or Jamie. Not that I expect it after talking to Noah. I need to get hold of him soon, but I’m too chicken shit to try right now.
While Maddox was alive, Jamie and I hung out, but we weren’t that close. Since he came to see me a year ago, we’ve become really good friends. I’d hate to lose him over my shitty behavior.
The door opens and Julian steps in. I don’t know what to say right now. Everything feels too weird. I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why I did that. Julian clearly doesn’t have feelings for me, and I was stupid to think he would
He sips the mug he has. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey.” He shuts the door softly. Today he’s dressed in dark-wash jeans with holes in the knees and the loudest neon-pink tank top I’ve ever seen in my life.
Of course it has those signature deep arm holes.
I love the way those shirts look on him.
His lean muscles and the veins in his forearms are present. Fuck me, he’s so hot it hurts.
And he feels nothing for you, and you probably freaked him out last night.
“How long have you been up?”
“A while.” He smiles slightly. “I was talking with Xia and Violet for a bit. I guess Alexander works at the local college. He’s gone for the day.”
I nod and swallow my tongue as he sits beside me. “So,” I attempt. “Listen, about last night.”
“It’s okay, Ian.” I’m surprised when I feel him squeeze my knee. “Why don’t you get dressed. Xia has bagels downstairs. You should eat. It’s nice out right now and I found something for us to do.”
That surprises me. “Really?”
He stands, sipping from his mug. “Go get ready. I’ll be downstairs.”
“What is this place?”
Julian just smiles. “When I had breakfast this morning, I was looking for some shit to do around here. This looks like fun.”
“Golf?”
“Just wait.”
We walk through the doors and we’re greeted by a woman at the front desk. He pays her and she hands us two mini golf clubs.
“Thank you,” he says, easy and polite, then passes one to me.
We step through the door and drop into darkness. Then Julian opens another door. “Holy shit.”
Everything glows.
The hallway looks like we’re underwater, waves painted in neon blues and greens pulsing under the black lights around the room. For a moment it’s disorienting, like my brain needs to catch up with my eyes.
“What is this?”
“Just wait.” His neon shirt glows under the lights. He reaches back without looking and takes my hand in his, leading me down the hall.
We walk down the hall and emerge into a massive glowing arcade. The course, the walls, the tables, everything hums with color. “Oh shit, this is cool.”
Julian looks back at me proudly. “Right? I thought so. Xia was talking about this place.”
He lets go of my fingers and twirls his putter. The room is huge. A mini golf course weaves through the room. There’s an arcade to the left, and tables where people can sit. It seems like we’re the only ones in here right now, though.
“I say we make this interesting,” he says, grinning.
I turn to him, and I want to talk about last night, but any awkwardness that seemed to be between us is gone. I don’t want to poke at it yet, so I play along. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“If I win, I get to decide what we do after this. If you win, you choose.”
The words are innocent enough, but the air in my lungs feels so heavy. I’m still thinking about last night, but maybe Julian is granting me mercy and moving right past it.
“But . . .” he continues. “If we get the ball in within two strokes—”
“Strokes?” I snort.
“Grow up.” He laughs. “If we make it within two strokes, we get to ask a question and the other person has to answer. No dodging.”
“I know everything about you.”
He snorts. “No, Ian. You don’t.”
“I’ve worked beside you for years, Jules. I’m observant.”
He smiles softly. “My truth might surprise you.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I smile at the look on his face. Lazy and effortless. Fuck he’s beautiful. Clearly, after last night I know he’s not into me, but it’s hard to just shut it off.
There was a moment, as brief as it was, where I thought he may feel something too.
Why would he, though? He’s seen me at my worst from day one. He’s had a front row seat to what a mess I am.
“Ian?”
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “Sounds good.”
We walk up to the first hole, which is decorated like a swamp. The neon-green alligator sits at the end of the course. Julian gauges the distance and takes the first shot. Easy and confident. The glowing ball curves toward the hole, dropping right inside. “I’m amazing.” He grins.
Yes he is. “Ask away.”
He rests on the putter like it’s a cane. “How deep can we go?”
My instinct is to tell him not too deep. While this trip was about Maddox in the beginning, somehow without meaning to it’s become about us instead.
While he may not feel the same way, I still want to move forward. I want to be out of this cage grief has built around me.
I want to be happy again.
And I’m the happiest when I’m with you, Jules.
So I level a look at him and drink in the features of his handsome face. “As deep as you want, Jules.” I smile softly. “Nothing off limits.”
I watch his throat work with a swallow. “Same.” He thinks for a moment. “Have you had any other boyfriends besides Maddox? I mean like, before and after.”
I expected something like this, but it still hurts.
“No,” I say. “I mean, I’ve tried to hook up with other people, but it never works out.
” I place my glowing pink ball down. “He was my first boyfriend. He’s the only person I’ve ever really been with.
At first, I didn’t even want to be with him.
I didn’t think he really wanted to be with me. I thought he just liked teasing me.”
Julian watches me closely.
“He was a talker,” I continue. “He liked to push buttons. Especially mine. I thought he was just talking.” I let out a quiet laugh. “Turns out he really loved me.”
“You said you’ve tried?”
I think about whether I want to answer. It was only twice and both times were humiliating. One time was in a bar bathroom. I couldn’t go through with it. I felt my lungs tighten and it was all wrong. I just wanted to get it over with. Take that leap and get my shit together. I ran out instead.
The other time was with a guy I’d been talking to. I liked him well enough. He was sweet, but when it came down to it, it just felt all wrong. When he put his hands on me I just couldn’t. That was years ago, but I’ve been too busy lately.
And lately, I’ve only had one person on my mind.
“That’s another question,” I say instead. “You’ll have to keep being impressive.”
When I miss my first shot, he laughs, stepping a bit closer to me, invading my space and my senses a little. I can smell him. Woodsy soap and something warm like cinnamon or vanilla. “You’re overthinking.”
“I’m not athletic.”
“I don’t think this requires athleticism.” He laughs.
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m not sure why.
The stakes could not be lower right now.
I want to get it in. I try again, focus on the tiny opening and swing.
My ball drops in and I turn to look at him.
There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask.
Something he rarely talks about. Our storm non-date is the first time he’s really opened up about her.
“Can you tell me more about your mom?”
His expression falls instantly. I regret it, but he nods slowly, rubbing his fingers through his locs. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to tell me.” I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I want to give his grief space too if he wants it. “I talk about Maddox a lot. I don’t want to take up all the space. Your grief matters too.”
“Okay.” He exhales. “She was the best person in the world.” A soft laugh leaves his lips. “She was always on me.”
“You worked that corporate job because of her, right?”
He nods. “It was just us growing up. She worked nights, slept through the day while I was at school. Everything she did was for me.” His voice tightens.
“I wanted her to retire. That was the plan, so I worked my ass off at a job I hated. I made a lot of money, though, and for a while that’s all that mattered. ”
I step closer to him.
“She got sick,” he continues.
I know bits and pieces of this story from what he’s told me, but I don’t want to stop him. I want him to give me his pain. He’s carried mine for years.
“When she got sick and it was clear this was it, I had this like, thing hit me. An epiphany maybe. This was my life and if I didn’t make a change, that’s all my life was ever going to be.
Waking up at six. Driving an hour to work.
Meetings, numbers, sitting in my cubicle ten hours a day.
Another hour’s drive home. All for what?
To make some other asshole richer? I don’t need a lot of money to be happy.
I don’t. People care too much about shit that doesn’t matter.
I love art, drawing, but it wasn’t practical.
She was always my priority. I don’t regret putting my dreams on hold to give her the life she deserved. ” He swallows. “But then she was gone.”
“You said she left you money, right?”
“Yeah. Lottery, of all things. I didn’t know until after.” He huffs. “Not like millions, but enough to give me some time. She left it to me with one condition—I quit my job and chase what I love. It was enough to last me a couple of years until I figured my shit out.” His voice breaks. “Sorry.”
I pull him into me without thinking. He drops the putter and holds onto me tight.
His warmth steadies me. “She’d be so fucking proud of you,” I whisper, holding him steady, my hand soothing along his spine, the other cupping the nape of his neck.
“She raised an amazing man. I bet she was incredible.”
I let him hold on to me for a moment before he pulls back, his thick lashes wet.
“I miss her a lot. I wish she could see all this.” He smiles sadly.
“She would’ve loved you. I have no regrets but .
. . I wish she could have seen this version of me.
” He scrubs his face, taking a deep breath.
“Alright. I’m done.” He gives me a lopsided smile.
I squeeze his arm and pass him his putter. “Your turn.”
We move to the next hole, where a glowing Eiffel Tower looms above us. “Have you ever seen the Eiffel Tower?” he asks.
“The building or the sex position?” He stares, then laughs. “I’ve seen neither, Jules.”
“Same.” He thinks. “More than one person seems complicated.” He shakes his head. “I know I’d overthink it. I’d be worried about not giving everyone equal attention. Too many bodies and room for error. I’m not a good multitasker in bed, I’ll admit.”
He says it as a joke, but damn, that is not the image I need right now.
I’m sure Julian’s great at a lot of other things in bed.
I clear my throat. “Agreed. Too many limbs. Someone is getting hit in the nuts.” He laughs at that, lining up his shot, and again he gets it on the first try. “Why are you so good at this?”
“Not my first time around a hole.” He winks then thinks about his question. “Do you ever want to be in a relationship again?”
The way he’s looking at me makes my chest ache. “I don’t know,” I admit. “For a while it felt like a betrayal.” I swallow. “I miss having someone, though. Not sex, not just sex, but the person. I miss that. Having a person. My person.”
Silence stretches between us and I want to talk about last night.
I step forward and think. While I’m having a lot of fun I need to do this.
A tiny step, and maybe to see where Julian’s head is at with me.
The thing is, if it’s not with Julian, I don’t know if I’d really want to try.
I’m lonely, yeah, and the idea of a new relationship seems nice, but the truth is I don’t really want just any relationship.
I want him.
I grab my putter and focus on my shot. This one is more straightforward than the swamp one. I tap it lightly and watch the way the ball climbs to the hole before dropping in. “Professional.”
Julian snorts. “Your turn.”
He’s close to me, so close I can feel his heat.
My turn.
Be brave.
Make a move.
“Why um—” I think for a moment and push past the embarrassment. “Last night when I leaned in and you said—”
“Ian—”
“It’s my question.” I need to ask or else it’s just going to drive me crazy. “Why didn’t you want to kiss me?”
Julian looks at me a moment. “I told you why.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” I watch the handsome set of his face twist with confusion. Honesty. I need to be honest and find out if this is completely off the table. I won’t push for something he doesn’t want. I just need to know where his head is at.
“You weren’t trying to forget our shitty day?”
I look at him now and see the slight insecure set to his eyes. He looks down, but I need him to look at me. I step toward him and run my fingers along the hem of his shirt. “No. I wasn’t.” I look at him and I feel my throat tighten. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“And now?” His words land like a punch.
I touch his arm, curling my fingers around his bicep. Electricity shoots straight through me. His fingers come up, slow and hesitant, then cup my face as if he’s memorizing it. “I still want to kiss you.”
“Then do it, Ian.”
Our lips collide. Slow. Careful. His mouth warm and testing. They’re softer than I could even dream. It feels so good. A groan slips past my lips and something snaps in him. Our clubs drop as I dive in, twisting my fingers into his shirt.
His lips part, his thumb drags along my jaw. I gasp and he takes advantage of it, deepening the kiss enough to make my knees go weak.
He presses me back against the glowing wall without thinking.
“Fuck, Jules,” I breathe.
His hands slide down my sides then grip tight under my knees, and suddenly I’m lifted, back flat against the wall. My legs wrap around him. “Killing me,” he murmurs against my mouth.
My fingers dig into his shoulders. I can feel how much he wants this. I can feel how hard he’s holding back. “Fuck, Jules.” He’s an amazing kisser.
He pulls back a little, dark eyes warming into mine. “Ian—”
Then the door opens.
He freezes, swearing, then sets me down. “Sorry,” he whispers, forehead resting briefly against mine before he pulls away.
Two kids rush into the room, laughing, oblivious to my shaking hands and shakier breath. Julian picks up his putter and gives me a smirk.
My face burns, my heart pounds. My body still hums from where his hands touched. That kiss. I can’t think about anything other than taking this back to our room and finishing what we started.
“Guess we’re finished.” He smiles apologetically.
I nod, although nothing about this feels finished.