Page 146 of Alive At Night

“But it’s—”

“I’ve worked hard for years,” I muttered, cutting her off, “so I could take care and spoil the people I—”

Love.

“—care about.”

Fuck.

She swallowed, her throat visibly bobbing. Her eyes dropped to my mouth, and my fingers curled desperately around the fabric fluffed up behind her. Sequins shimmered across her face, and the vision before me was so Juni-like.

And I…cared about Juni.

For so long, I was scared to admit that, but now it was impossible not to let it rule all my thoughts and actions. Ideeplycared about Juni.

More than I should on our first date before we’d made anything official or talked about how serious this was. But I was in deep, so, so deep, and as far as I was concerned, this was as serious as it got. This was I’m-never-letting-you-go serious.

I slipped a finger beneath her chin, tipping it up so she’d look at my eyes, not my mouth. For my own sanity, of course. “Have I ever been irresponsible with my money? Do you think that’s something I would ever risk?”

She shook her head mutely.

“Good, then we agree.” Because I couldn’t help it, I brushed my lips over hers. It sparked something I couldn’t finish, not now, and I hated putting space between us again. “Now I desperately want to see you try on some dresses.”

She nodded, that smile returning. And then it cocked to one side. “But you hate my dresses.”

I stepped back, letting her slip by so she could start perusing the handfuls of outfits as beautiful as her. “No,” I scoffed. “That’s not true.”

A raised brow told me she didn’t believe me. “Is that so?”

“I never hated your dresses, Juniper.” I kicked back on the velvety sofa arranged outside the fitting room. “I hated that you always looked so fucking pretty in them, and it only made it that much harder to resist you.” I dropped my voice. “I hated how goddamn fuckable you looked in them.”

My response made her cheeks flush, and I grinned with delight. She was going to pick out a pretty little dress, and then tonight, I was going to fuck her in it just like I’d imagined.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I’d be excited about a fashion show.

But then again, never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I’d be taking Juniper St. James on a date.

And tonight was only the first of many, many of those.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

juniper

CONSIDERING JULIAN HAD FIVE sisters and years of experience buying them gifts and listening to their dating stories—likely with gritted teeth—I wasn’t shocked that he knew what a girl might like on a first date. But this? This was more than that. This was specific to me. To whatIliked.

Shocked was an understatement to how I felt when I looked at the collection Charlotte had picked out for me. Julian hadn’t just taken me shopping at the most adorable boutique in Boston, but he’d also explained my styleperfectlyto the shop owner.

Taking two big gulps of champagne in the hopes it would settle me, I stared at all of my options, struggling to decide which to pick first.

“Put on the black one,” Julian called through the dressing room curtain, surprising me with how closely he must have paid attention when I pulled dresses off the rack.

“I already have a lot of black dresses,” I said while considering the dress in question, another one of my favorites from the selection.

“I know.” Julian’s voice had a hint of satin to it, sliding over my skin appreciatively. Whenever he admitted to knowing things about me, it made my heart skip a goddamn beat. “But you always look good in them.”

I stuck my head out of the dressing room, using the curtain to shield the rest of my body. “I sometimes worry that they’re too similar or boring.”

Julian snorted. “Nothing about your style is boring, Juni. None of those dresses areplainblack. They’re all…you know, decorated.”

---