Page 113 of Alive At Night

But I also thought he hated me, and the last few weeks certainly didn’t feel like hate. I thought he was cold, but recently, I’d never felt so warm. When it came to me, I thought he only knew how to be hard and unfeeling, but then there were those moments when he was oh, so soft.

God, just thinking about those moments made my heart beat faster.

Before it fell into my stomach because I remembered the rejection that followed.

If I was honest with myself, it was a gut-wrenching realization. Wanting him like this was gut-wrenching. The want kept growing and growing the more I thought about it. But it wasn’t anything more than a whole new way for him to hurt me.

“How about that pasta?” Noah jerked his head to the side, capturing my attention again. “Should we flag down the waitress and order?”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

But before we got the chance, Noah’s phone buzzed again. He sighed, glancing down at it. His lips pressed together in a repressed smile.

“What?”

I couldn’t help it; I needed to know.

Noah read from his phone without looking up. “He’s reminding me that he’s broken bones for you before, and he can do it again.”

“He’s so dramatic,” I scoffed, despite my stomach flipping.

Noah chuckled before giving me a curious look. “Do you want me to cave and tell him where we are?”

I thought about it for a second before shaking my head. “He can have tonight to figure out what he wants. And then, just maybe, I’ll give him a chance if he realizes it’s me.”

Noah tucked his phone away with a soft smile. “He knows it’s you, Juniper.”

He sounded so sure of himself.

I wished I could be that sure, too.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

juniper

AFEW MINUTES AFTER Noah dropped me off at my apartment, there was a knock on my door. I frowned, wondering if he’d come back for some reason. Although it was odd that he wouldn’t have just sent a text or—

“Oh, thank fuck.”

I opened my door to find Julian leaning against the frame. His chest heaved while snow melted into his gingery locks. And he was peering up at me with such angry relief. I didn’t know how else to describe it. Tension rolled off his shoulder in waves, his movements stiff as he straightened. And then, without another word, he grabbed my hips and walked me back into my apartment again.

“What are you doing here?”

My words were breathless as a snow-covered Julian guided me through the entryway and into the kitchen. Once he had me pressed against the counter with a thrilling sort of roughness, his attention turned to the rest of the apartment, scoping it out.

“He’s not here,” I said dryly.

Julian ran a hand through his hair, pulling a bit on the ends before he looked down at me again. His hair was wet now, hanging over his forehead.

“He better not fucking be here,” he said, eyes wild as he slid so close to me that his damp clothes—the same suit he wore earlier at work—brushed over my bare skin. I repressed a shiver.

Instead of entertaining that comment, I repeated my earlier question. “What are you doing here, Julian? It’s late.”

“Noah wouldn’t tell me what restaurant you went to for dinner.” His hand returned to my side, gripping it between his fingers as though to check if I was actually there. “In fact, that ass barely responded to me at all.”

“Because we wereeatingdinner,” I emphasized before holding my breath as Julian put his hands on the kitchen countertop and slid them forward. Meaning that all those little brushes of his body against mine were obliterated. He was firm and hard, and his hips held mine captive.

“What did you have?” he whispered, his tone growing soft.

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