Chapter 5 #3
“Liana,” he says. “I’m walking you home.”
I do not have the heart to fight him.
We walk side by side through the early-evening Brooklyn streets. Pepper rides on Julian’s shoulder, occasionally muttering things to himself, “Marco?” followed thirty seconds later by “Polo!” in two different voices.
I’m holding my cotton-candy cone, mostly empty now, and my flower crown is slightly askew on my head. I’m also carrying a small stuffed parrot that Julian won me at the ring-toss game ten minutes ago.
“Because it would be rude to come home without a sibling for Pepper,” he’d said, handing me the plush toy with a flourish. Pepper has been giving the stuffed parrot the side-eye for the last twenty minutes, occasionally leaning down to peck at its embroidered eye.
I try to make small talk. Julian answers easily.
He doesn’t press me for anything. He asks about my friends.
About the shop. About what I like to grow in spring.
I find myself telling him things I do not normally tell people—small things, the quiet of my morning routine, Mrs. Chen who buys white lilies every Friday for her husband’s grave, the way the light falls through the skylight at three in the afternoon and turns everything gold.
He listens. He remembers every name. He remembers every detail. His focus is almost unsettling, his eyes on my face while I talk, like he’s committing each word to memory.
I have not been listened to like this in six years.
We reach my block. The shop is dark, the CLOSED sign facing the street, the ivy on the brick wall deep green in the fading light.
I turn to him on the sidewalk. Julian is standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets. Pepper has, blessedly, gone to sleep on his shoulder—his bright yellow head tucked under one wing, a small feathered lump of contentment.
“Thank you. For today,” I say, feeling warm in my heart, and also a tinge of sadness that we would have to part ways.
“No, thank you for closing the shop,” says Julian. A beat. Then, more softly, “Was it fun?”
“It was,” I say in a breathy voice. I can’t help it. He affects me so much.
Julian steps closer, his eyes lowering to my lips. My heart is thumping a mile a minute as I grip the stuffed parrot tighter in my hands.
“May I kiss you?”
My breath catches. Sharp. Sudden. I have not been asked. I have never, in my entire life, been asked. I nod, wanting a kiss so badly and so scared at the same time.
Julian steps in slowly.
He gives me every chance to stop him. He lifts one hand and cups my jaw ever so gently, his thumb against my cheekbone, and tilts my face up.
Then he kisses me.
It is soft and unhurried. His mouth is warm. His scent of sugar and lemon makes my knees weak. I kiss him back. My hands are full, and I cannot reach for him, which is probably for the best, because I don’t trust what I would do if my hands were free.
He pulls back slowly. He does not move his hand from my jaw. He looks at me with an expression that has gone soft and slightly stunned, as if he was not entirely prepared for what just happened.
“I want to see you again,” he says.
My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. I don’t say anything.
“It’s impossible,” I whisper. “Because of the deal.”
“It’s not impossible,” he says slowly as he takes the stuffed parrot from my hands so I can open the shop door. My hands are shaking as I put the key into the lock. “I’ll figure out a way.”
My face is burning. I just want to get inside, curl up in my bed, and press my fingertips to my mouth until the memory of his kiss stops making my pussy throb.
The door opens. I step inside. “I think it’s best that we wait until Ezra accepts that I don’t want to sell my shop.”
Julian hands me the stuffed parrot through the gap. Our fingers brush. His voice is very quiet. “Yes, I guess you’re right about that. Have a good night, Lia. I had a lot of fun with you.”
“Goodnight,” I say back.
He turns. Walks down the sidewalk, Pepper still sleeping on his shoulder, the yellow flowers clutched in one hand. I watch him until he reaches the corner and disappears.
I let out a long, shaky sigh.
My phone buzzes in my apron pocket. I pull it out with sticky fingers. The screen lights up with several missed messages from Mira.
Liana. I came to the shop. You weren’t there. The door was locked.
Where are you?
Liana. LIANA.
Three more in rapid succession:
Liana. I am going to call the police.
LIANA.
I’m smiling. My thumbs move over the screen:
I’m home. I’m fine. I’ll explain tomorrow.
I quickly hit send and lock the store doors before heading upstairs to my living quarters above my shop. The stuffed parrot goes on my kitchen counter, beside the chipped blue mugs.
I carefully place the flower crown onto my nightstand.
I lie down on my bed without undressing.
The sheets are cool against my skin. The streetlight casts amber shadows across the ceiling.
I press my fingertips, very gently, to my mouth, smiling. And I relive the whole day again, replaying and remembering every little moment I had with Julian.