19. Julian
NINETEEN
JULIAN
“Jamie still angry at you?” What Ian said was shitty, but I hope they can work it out. I’ve known Jamie for a bit now and he seems like a good guy. And we all love Noah, especially Anna, which should be a concern to everybody.
“He’s not angry, but I haven’t been completely forgiven, and he shouldn’t, honestly. That was horrible. I can’t believe I said that. And I can’t take it back.” He sighs.
I know some details about the accident. Just shit the papers said.
I’ve been too afraid to ask Anna or Ian.
“Can I ask why he feels responsible? If he wasn’t the one driving?
” I know that was Maddox. And where was Ian through all of it?
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.
” Ian sinks onto the bed with a smirk, bouncing a little and letting the bed squeak.
Yup. Fucking mortified. I can’t believe I didn’t realize how loud we were. Ian laughs, bouncing a bit more making the squeak echo.
“Stop! I don’t want them thinking we’re—”
“Jumping on the bed.”
“Jumping on the bed.” I nod. “We aren’t having sex for the rest of the time we’re here, I hope you know that.”
Something passes through Ian’s eyes. “And what happens after? When we go home. Will we be jumping on the bed then?”
The thing is this.
I want to say yes. I want to dive in and ask him if he wants to make this real, but I know Ian.
He flirts with danger but often runs away when it’s time to face it.
I feel like if I let him know the full extent of how I feel, it’ll push him away.
One step forward, fifteen back. I’m scared, because for the first time with him things are where I want them to be.
I guess that’s not true, though, is it?
Sex is great, but I need shit beyond that with him. He’s not some hookup. He’s the guy I’ve been in love with for years, and we’re here now, making the most out of this vacation in this little bubble we’ve created, and it feels good.
What happens when the bubble pops?
What happens when Ian’s grief swells and crashes?
What happens if he decides this isn’t for him and he can’t go through with it?
We work together, and I know I told him I would quit if he didn’t take a break, but I’m happy he didn’t call my bluff. I love my job. I love the people I work with. If I’m not with Anna and Ian, what does my life even look like? They’re my family.
While I want to say yes, I’m cautious. I’ve never had my heart broken. And I know with certainty that Ian will obliterate me.
“I think we should take it slow. When we go back. This is new for us both. There’s no rush.” I swallow back the truth. That’s not what I want at all.
I want to tell him I love him. I want to hold him every day. Sleep next to him, wake up with him. I want to touch him without thinking twice. I want to kiss him every time I see him.
I want him so bad it hurts.
“Take it slow.” He nods to himself. “Good idea, Jules.” His smile is soft, understanding.
A little too understanding. He inhales, steadying his breath.
“Jamie’s sister was plastered drunk, and her girlfriend had left the party after they got into a fight.
Jamie was scared Luci was going to get assaulted if she stayed there just wandering around.
He wanted to take her home.” Ian’s gaze fixes on the floor.
“He’s been through a lot. Foster homes. Abuse.
I don’t know the extent, but his brain .
. . he’s a little fucked up.” He exhales sharply.
“Maddox offered to drive them. I was drunk. Angry. We’d fought earlier that day. Feels so fucking stupid now.”
“Jamie had a girlfriend?” I ask.
Ian nods sadly. “You know Ariana?”
“The cafe across the street?”
He nods. “Her sister, Ali, was Jamie’s girlfriend. She was in the car too.” His jaw tightens. “Maddox didn’t like her. Thought they brought out the worst in each other. Jamie was focused on Luci that night and Ali was jealous.”
“Of his sister?”
“Adopted. Luci was adopted when she was five. Jamie was adopted when he was sixteen. She was the first person to be kind to him.” Ian swallows.
“They were inseparable.” Ian’s gaze swings to the window, the world beyond it blurred with the rain.
“She was an artist too. She could’ve done incredible things. ”
Everything settles heavy between us.
“That’s why they were all in the car,” he continues.
“Maddox was taking them home. I got tired of waiting for him to come back, I thought he was just hanging out with Jamie, so I left with someone I knew. The shop was in the opposite direction from the crash.” His mouth twists.
“I was drunk, but I faintly remember hearing sirens. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.
I didn’t find out until the next morning. ”
“How?”
“Anna. She came to the shop and I—” He stops, shaking his head.
“That’s enough,” I say quickly, lacing my fingers through his. I cup his face. “You don’t have to keep going.”
He nods, and his fingers slide onto my thigh. Grounding. Squeezing gently. “It just pulls me back. The senselessness of it. One bad night ruined so many lives.” He squeezes quickly, letting me go. “Enough. You’re right.”
Inside this room the world seems pretty small. Just two people trying to navigate this new stage in our relationship. The rain drums softly against the roof. “What do you want to do today?”
Ian’s grin breaks through the heaviness. “I got my sketchbook back. Let’s watch movies and draw.”
“We can just watch movies. I don’t need to draw.”
“No, let’s pick some, put on another one of those Ghibli movies, and we can draw while we watch it. Like background noise.” I don’t know what to say to that. He’s describing a perfect night.
“Okay.” My breath stutters as he leans in and plants a firm kiss on my lips.
I like how easy it feels. How fucking good he feels.
I lean back, guiding his body over mine, and his hips shift, fitting between my thighs.
A soft exhale leaves his lips as his hips slowly grind against my erection.
“Do you think we can jump quietly?” I whisper against his lips.
His lips split into a smile before he peels away to laugh, tucking his face into my neck.
His body shudders against me. Then I feel his lips land on my neck.
“No jumping right now,” he says softly, then he lifts his face and hovers over me.
Dropping a quick kiss on my lips, he gets up.
“I do want to draw you, though.” His bluish eyes heavy, he lifts off the bed and turns to me, watching me as his fingers curl under his shirt and slowly lift it off.
The fabric hits the floor, his fingers diving into the band of his jeans and flicking open the button.
He kicks them off his feet and watches me while he drags his boxers down his muscled thighs. “I want to draw you, naked.”
My brows lift. “What?”
“I like drawing people, and you, Jules . . .” He pulls back a little, kissing my shoulder. “You’re a work of art.”
“That was painfully corny.”
“I know.” He gets back onto the bed, stealing another quick kiss. “Only if you want to.”
“No jumping on the bed.”
He raises his hand, two fingers together on each side forming a V. “Scout’s honor.”
“That’s Star Trek.”
He blinks. “You’re such a nerd.” His laughter fades as I lift my shirt over my head. His attention snaps to my chest. “Can’t we bounce a little?”
I slip my jeans off. Then my briefs.
Ian’s heavy eyes stare at all of me. “Fuck.”
“You too.” I pull his attention back. “I want to draw you.”
Ian gets into position on the other side of the bed. My gaze lingers on his strong thighs, inked stomach, and chest. Soft dick. My black dahlias over his hip. My work. My mark. I have sunflowers on mine. His favorite flower.
He settles near the headboard, handing me pillows to prop up against the footboard.
I look up, catching his soft smile. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says, setting his pencils between us. “You’re just beautiful.”
Ian turns his attention back to his sketchbook.
His words settle somewhere deep. On my side, I try to focus, and the room goes quiet except for the soft patter of rain, the movie I chose, and the scrape of graphite on paper.
I sketch him, his body almost as familiar as my own.
Long lines, subtle curves. His tattoos. Normally I hate drawing hands, but I try to get his right.
All the while Ian keeps his attention focused on the paper as if he’s drawing me from memory.
Thunder cracks through the room, sudden and sharp, making me jump a little. Our eyes meet with the flicker of the light. “You okay?” He laughs softly. I nod as something heavy settles between us. I can’t ignore this weight.
I’m in love with my best friend, but I don’t know if I trust him with that truth yet.
Ian’s pencil stills. “Jules?” My head lifts at his voice. A warm rush of heat floods my stomach hearing my name. “I’m going to do my best, but I’m not sure if I know how to take it slow with you.”
Neither do I.
His eyes flick back to his paper and he keeps shading quietly.
Thunder rolls over the house again. Xia said the house would be okay in the storm, but everything inside this room feels fragile.
My eyes grow heavy the longer I focus on my paper.
“Tired?” he asks, and I nod. “I’m done. What about you? ”
I’m nearly there, but my eyes are heavy and I’m losing focus. “Show me.”
I get up to move beside him. He sinks down further into the pillows and shows me his book.
A smile springs to my lips. Ian has an amazing understanding of the human body.
I’m naked, but the picture doesn’t feel sexualized.
I’m reclining back on the pillows. Relaxed.
One knee bent, the other leg stretched out like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My body is all clean lines and soft shadows.
He’s caught the slopes of my stomach and the tension in my thighs.
Then I see my face.
My eyes are looking at him, but I look guarded, my mouth relaxed and vulnerable like I’m watching something I shouldn’t.
He shaded my collarbones gently. Then there’s my tattoos.
Clear as the day he put them on my skin.
Normally Ian draws with a heavy hand, the graphite shining along the edge of his palm.
But this drawing is gentle. “Wow. This is amazing. Soft almost. Dreamy.”
Ian shrugs. “I drew you how I see you,” he says quietly. “Let me see.” Carefully, he takes my sketchbook while I can’t look away from his, but I can feel his smile. “Amazing, Jules.”
I look over at him. “Not quite finished. You know I draw slow.”
“You take your time. Nothing wrong with that.”
I just stare at his page, at myself through Ian’s eyes. “Ian.”
“Yeah?”
I shut the sketchbook, rolling on top of him and fitting myself between his thighs.
I cup his face, my thumbs brushing under his cheeks, grounding us both here as his hands slide over my hips, his fingers gently tracing the curve of my ass.
Tentative at first, like he’s asking permission. “Can I?” he murmurs.
I nod and feel him brace my weight in his lap before flipping me underneath him. He leans in slowly. When his mouth meets mine it’s slow, not hungry or desperate like our kisses from the other night. Instead, he’s mapping the shape of me.
I breathe him in and settle under his familiar weight.
Something in my chest eases as this feeling washes over me.
Soft relief and his softer skin. Our kiss deepens.
Slow and unhurried. His lips move against mine like he’s afraid to rush.
I feel it everywhere. My hands slowly caress his back.
My thighs draw up around his waist when I feel his weight settle onto me completely.
Thunder outside rumbles, low and distant, but I don’t care about the storm.
I don’t care about anything but the way he feels against me.
Ian doesn’t make a move to do more. We just lie like that, tangled together, kissing so long I lose track of time. Eventually he breaks away, resting his forehead against mine. Then he drops down next to me and moves to pull the comforter up around us.
On his side, he traces my jaw with a soft smile.
“This is me taking it slow, Jules.”
I fit him into my arms and kiss the top of his head.
Ian may think this is slow, but it feels like a sudden plunge. I’m unable to do anything but fall, knowing that he’ll most likely break my heart.