Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
At about nine o’clock on a Saturday night, my doorbell rings. I glance at the clock, puzzled about who might be visiting this late. Gage left hours ago to stay the night at a friend’s house.
I peek between the curtains next to the front door then gasp and jerk back. Julian is standing on the step, waiting patiently, while I try not to have a stroke.
He’s probably here to see Gage. Yeah, that’s it. I should open the door and just be cool. Laid back.
Yup, that’s me. Ms. Cool.
I finally step over and open the door with a flourish.
“Julian!” I say casually, like I didn’t realize it was him. “Gage isn’t here. He—”
“I didn’t come for Gage,” he says, cutting me off with a smile. “I came for you.”
My heart stutters. “Um, me?” I stammer, as my pulse picks up.
He seems amused that he’s flustered me.
“Why?” I ask, challenging him, annoyed at his amusement. “Why are you here to see me?”
He brings his hands out from behind his back and offers me a single pink rose. “I wanted to give you this.”
My face flushes as I stare at the flower. What on earth? Well, isn’t he just full of surprises. I scrunch my brow and look back up at him.
“That’s… really sweet.” I take the rose and turn to go inside, motioning for him to follow. “Come on in.”
I pluck a bud vase from a cabinet and fill it partway with water, slip the rose in, and push the vase into the center of the kitchen island. When I turn around, Julian is sitting on a barstool at the other end. He’s watching me intently, and I find myself warming under his attention.
I stroll over to him and hop up onto the barstool next to his, studying his face. “What are you doing here, Julian?” I ask softly.
“What if I just want to chat?” His voice is level as he watches me from under a lock of black hair that’s fallen carelessly across his forehead.
I resist the sudden, surprising urge to push it away from his eyes. “Chat?”
“Yeah. Maybe all I wanna do is talk. This time.” His dark eyes heat as he gazes at me.
“This time?”
I’ve turned into a parrot around this guy, sheesh.
“There’s gonna be a next time?” I ask, trying to hide the shake in my voice.
“I hope so.” He leans in close and brushes his fingers down my forearm to the back of my hand, which is resting on the countertop. My eyes go wide before I can stop them as a trail of electricity zings through my arm where his skin touched mine. I take in a breath through my nose.
“Do you feel that too?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Feel what?” I whisper back, my gaze glued to his hand.
“I’ve never touched you before. I knew that once I did, I would want more.” He pauses, staring at me with the same blistering intensity as he had before, in this very kitchen. Perhaps I hadn’t imagined his interest after all. “I knew that once I did, you would want more too.”
My eyes must be as big as saucers as I stare helplessly at him. My heart takes off at a gallop.
Is he saying…? What is he saying? This is nuts. He’s so young. I’m friends with his mom, for crying out loud. I must be hallucinating.
“Julian, it sounds like… I don’t… I don’t understand what you’re saying.” I trip over my words as I pull my hand away and rub my arm where he touched me, where I can still feel the tingling.
“I’m saying I want you, Chelsea,” he states firmly. “I want you.”
I sit there, blinking, as buzzers and alarm bells go off all throughout my body. “That’s crazy. You can’t possibly. Maybe… Are you swept up in the moment? Just being impulsive?”
A dark smile spreads across his face. “It’s not totally spur-of-the-moment. But even if it were, is there something wrong with being impulsive?”
I scoff, trying not to sound breathless. “Well, yes. Yes, of course there’s something wrong with being impulsive. For something like this, at least.”
“Like what?”
Flustered escalates to scandalized as I sputter, “Well… I mean, it’s… it’s dangerous. Reckless. You can’t just follow whatever urge—I mean, desire…” I pause and try to stop digging my hole deeper.
He just watches me, not bothering to hide his growing smile.
“I’m not sure why you’re saying this, Julian. You barely know me.” I cock my head at him with a huff.
“I’ve been around awhile, and I know what I’ve seen. I know you’re caring, generous, selfless. Protective.”
All I can do is stare at him in amazement.
“Beautiful,” he adds, his eyes sparkling.
My cheeks blush as I study my lap.
“I also know you deserve to be happy. A little less lonely.”
I stiffen. Rob and I let ourselves rot in a loveless marriage for years before we finally pulled the plug.
I had never known loneliness could be so acute, even when your partner still lived with you.
But that was far worse, in fact. Those feelings didn’t ease much once I was on my own, but I wasn’t aware they were so obvious.
I clear my throat awkwardly. “Well. I’m fine, I assure you.”
He locks eyes with me again, with that laser focus. “I know you are. But you could be good. And I could be the one to make you feel good.”
“You…?” I say, almost too quiet to hear over my heart thrumming in my ears.
“Me,” he murmurs, reaching over to cup my cheek.
His hand is so warm, so big and warm, and comforting. I close my eyes and exhale, savoring his touch.
Want more, indeed.
“Okay, so you kinda know me,” I say.
He nods, smiling sweetly as I place my hand over his and bring it down to the counter. We sit still for a moment, letting our words settle between us. I still can’t believe he’s asking what he’s asking.
“So, you want to…” I gesture between us and trail off.
“Yes.” A hint of a smile plays at his lips.
“Have you ever even…?” I trail off again. This is painfully awkward.
“Had sex?” he asks, his brows drawn down. “Yes.”
Well, that’s a relief. I don’t think I could handle being someone’s first. Not at my age.
What am I saying?
There’s no way. Simply talking about this insane notion is giving me anxiety. Is he serious? I wonder if I can talk some sense into him with logic.
A wave of tension runs through me, and I lean back to stretch, gritting my teeth. “I’m really not sure, Julian. What if you regret it or change your mind or something?”
He watches me. So calm and reasonable. “I’m not asking for anything beyond one time. Just one evening together, that’s it. I don’t even have to spend the night. I’m leaving for school in a few weeks anyway.”
My mind runs through all the reasons this is a bad idea.
“I’m a lot older than you.”
“I’m aware. That’s part of the appeal,” he says dismissively.
“You’re not here out of pity, are you?” I brace myself for his answer, but his eyes run pointedly down then back up my body as his gaze intensifies.
“No, Chelsea.” His voice is low and sends a flare of heat through me.
I take a moment to steady my breath and organize my thoughts again. “I know your mother.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, so do most of the girls I’ve dated.”
I frown. Touché.
“But what would she say? What would Gage say? Oh God, Gage. He could never find out.” I pull a face.
It sounds like I’m actually considering this. Am I actually considering this?
Holy shit.
His smile is reassuring. “Nope, I wouldn’t want that either. So no one else would know. We’d keep it between us, our little secret.”
He’s got an answer for everything, doesn’t he?
“You don’t have mommy issues?”
“No, ma’am.”
I sigh. Then I narrow my eyes at him. “You said this wasn’t spur-of-the-moment. So what’s special about now? Why are you approaching me now?”
He rubs his lightly stubbled chin, pondering. “Well, I’ve been eighteen since March, so I’m definitely a legal adult. But I figured you might be more comfortable if I was no longer a… high school student.”
I bark a laugh. Good lord. Yes, this man was in high school two months ago. I let my face drop into my hands and groan.
“Geez, this is so insane. What am I doing?” I mutter.
He pulls my hands down, searching my eyes. “Just think about it, okay? It’ll be up to you whether or not there’s a next time. It’ll be your call.”
I stare at him, lost for words.
He slides off the stool and cages me in with his hands on the counter on either side of me. My breath catches as he leans in and places his mouth next to my ear.
“Tonight was for talking. But next time, I want to touch you. I want to taste you. And…” He rubs his nose along my ear. “I want to fuck you.”
A jolt of energy tears through me as heat erupts from my core and up through my chest, neck, and cheeks. I wonder briefly if flames might actually come shooting out the top of my head.
I gasp and turn my head away, grabbing his arm with one hand while the other lands across my chest. “Jesus, Julian, you can’t just say things like that!”
He smirks at me. Gorgeously, I might add. His eyes drop down to my hand on his arm then flick back to mine. “I’m just being honest.”
I pull my hand away, leaning back again on my stool and fanning myself like Scarlett O’Hara.
Changing the subject, he asks, “Gage leaves for school on the eighth, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Okay, well, I leave on the thirteenth. So if you want to get together, between those dates is probably a good time.” He licks his lips as he stares at me. “Give me a signal sometime when I’m over here if you want me to come back.”
I watch him for a moment, considering. What’s the harm in just thinking about it, right? I don’t need to shut him down completely. Even if this idea sounds crazy.
Finally, I sigh. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” I say, against my better judgment.
His smile is dazzling. “That’s all I ask.”
He sweeps me right off my stool into an abrupt hug, and it takes my breath away, from both the tightness of his embrace and the shock of his sudden nearness. He’s big, strong, and warm, and he smells… amazing. Like some kind of spicy cologne and the vaguely salty scent of the ocean.
I sigh into him, closing my eyes. It’s been…
years? Years. Since I’ve been held like this.
It feels so good. Like finding air after you’ve been suffocating for so long that you’ve forgotten you even needed it.
I thread my arms around his waist, squeezing him back tightly.
My heart twinges as I realize I never want the embrace to end.
To my horror, tears well up in my eyes. I stiffen, pulling away and blinking furiously. He gazes down at my face and brushes a thumb across my cheek. After planting a kiss on my forehead, he steps away and walks backward toward the door without taking his eyes off me.
“Think about it, Chelsea.” With a small smile, he opens the door and heads out into the night.
And I am left. To think about it.