Page 36 of Alive At Night

When I hesitated, debating if I should dig my heels into the ground even more, Julian insisted.

“Now.”

“It’s late.” I emphasized that with a yawn.

His lips curved. “Our specialty, right?”

“Fine,” I huffed.

As much as I hated once again relying on Julian to help me with something, I found it hard to argue with him when it meant I might save money on repairs. Every once in a while, I was practical.

But also, I was tired. My combative itch had been scratched for the day, and my desire to argue disappeared from all the barbs that had stuck and hurt.

Sometimes it wasn’t worth it. And this was one of those times.

So for the second time in a week, I followed Julian out into the night and let him take me home.

CHAPTERNINE

juniper

KEEPING UP WITH JULIAN as he took long strides across my parking garage was nearly impossible. The still air made breathing difficult, and sweat began gathering in all its typical spots while I tried not to fall too far behind. My bed and my to-be-read pile of books were calling to me from a few floors above, but Julian was insistent. Arguing with him further would only involve a risk I wasn’t willing to take. If I opened my mouth now, he’d likely hear how wildly out of breath I was, and I didn’t need to give him another reason to make fun of me.

“It’s the white one, right?” he asked over his shoulder.

Luckily, I was able to answer with a nod.

Julian marched the rest of the way to my car without saying a word. My apartment complex allotted me the parking space in the furthest corner, which I didn’t mind unless I had groceries to haul in. Or unless I’d been wearing the same pair of heels for nearly twelve hours. Like right now.

“You should request a better spot so you’re not walking across this entire garage by yourself at night,” Julian said, assessing the situation with his hands on his hips.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress as I came to stand beside him, hating how sticky I felt. Usually the dankness of the garage felt cool on my skin, but the humidity stuck to me tonight.

“Why do you assume that I’m alone?”

I raised a brow at Julian and hoped I didn’t sound like I was still trying to catch my breath from keeping his ridiculous pace.

Julian’s gaze cut to me, sharp in its perusal. He pressed his lips together, his jaw clenching before he switched his attention to my car again.

“Maybe because you needed my help finding a date?” he muttered, chuckling beneath his breath as he held out a hand. “Give me your keys so I can back it up.”

Goddamn him. A flush rose from my neck to my cheeks, and I straightened in defiance.

“I can back it out myself,” I snapped, getting in my car before Julian could be more of a demanding ass. After reversing enough for him to have plenty of working space, I rolled to a stop and winced at the horrible squealing noise that happened whenever I so much as touched my brakes.

Julian had his arms crossed with his brows furrowed when I got out of the car.

“That’s the concern, I take it?” He glared at my front wheels and then my back ones as though he had the power to fix the brakes with laser vision. “Anything else you’ve noticed besides the squeaking?”

I shook my head.

“I tried to tell you it wasn’t an emergency,” I said, sensing he was about to say something to belittle the problem or indicate I was wasting his time—even though this was his goddamn idea.

But as I leaned against my car, Julian remained quiet. I could see the gears in his head turning, winding up. I waited, trying to be patient. But patience had never really been my forte, and when at least a minute had gone by without Julian saying a word, I dropped my keys on top of my car, hoping the loud clanking would get his attention. When it didn’t, I sighed.

“Just forget about it.”

“I’m not going to forget about it.” He jerked out of his trance and tipped his head toward my trunk. “I assume there’s a jack in here?”

---