Page 21 of Alive At Night

“I’m not even going to make fun of you for knowing what that is because that might be the best compliment you’ve ever given me.”

“The point just flew over your head,” I groaned, releasing her. “You’re wearing five-inch heels. You’re going to roll an ankle on all the damn stairs.”

She straightened. “There are a lot of things that I can do in heels, Julian. You’d be surprised.”

I really wished she hadn’t said that. Now my brain was taking detours I didn’t even know existed as it searched for something else to say.

“We can get you something to wear at my place.”

There. That was normal.

“I’m not going to wear your clothes.” Juniper’s face pinched, disgusted by the thought.

“Not even if it’s Noah’s jersey?”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slowly rolled open as Juniper considered. Her heels tapped against the lobby floor as she stepped out, and I followed her. When we reached the front door, she muttered beneath her breath. “Fine, I’ll wear the jersey.”

Feeling a bit satisfied, I grinned.

Fifteen minutes later, we were standing in the entryway to my apartment, and I was really wishing I’d known this was where the night would take us. Because I could practically see the judgment in Juniper’s eyes as she scanned my bare apartment.

“How long have you lived here?”

“A few months. Moved in after the end of law school when I decided I’d stay in Boston.”

“Does your building have a rule about not decorating?”

“I’m going to get you clothes,” I grumbled, pushing past her and down the hallway that led to my room. We didn’t have time for lectures on home decor.

Juniper hollered protests at me down the hall, but I ignored her. If she wanted to wear her princess outfit to the stadium, that was fine, but the shoes had to go. For safety reasons.

When I returned, Juniper was leaning against my kitchen counter, inspecting it like she was afraid it carried a disease on the surface.

“Here.” I threw the clothes onto the counter, and Juniper jumped back. “Shoes, leggings, and a jersey.”

She poked at the leggings. “I’m not going to wear some girl’s clothes you hooked—”

“They’re Gemma’s,” I said, exasperated. “Her rink is around the corner, so she stays here sometimes.”

That surprised Juni. I could see the little tick of annoyance making her eyebrow twitch. She didn’t like that there was something she didn’t know about her best friend.

“I knew the rink was around the corner. But…how often does she stay here?”

I shrugged. “Depends. Sometimes she practices late, and I don’t like her driving home when she’s tired and it’s dark.”

Something softened slightly in Juniper’s expression. If there was one thing we could agree on, it was that Gemma Briggs was important to us. But Juniper’s moment of neutrality didn’t last long. Her eyes rolled up as she snatched the leggings off the counter.

“You’re so overprotective. You know your sister is a competent woman, right? You can’t make her—”

“I don’t make her do anything. I offer her the option, and she sometimes decides to take me up on it.” I threw off my suit jacket, and Juniper’s eyes widened in horror like she thought I was about to get naked in front of her. “Now, can you please change? The traffic is going to be awful.”

“Fine, but I don’t know if these will fit.” She gave the leggings a skeptical glance. “Gemma is at least two sizes smaller than me.”

“Just try them,” I said, giving her a little push toward the bathroom. Leggings stretched, didn’t they? Weren’t they like one-size-fits-all or something? Besides, Juniper was exaggerating their differences. Sure, Gemma had a more slender frame while Juniper had curves I tried not to think about, but they used to always share clothes growing up.

When I heard Juniper mumble something beneath her breath, I added, “You’re being awfully obstinate, considering I’m doing you a favor.”

Juniper’s expression shuttered at that, and she closed herself in the bathroom for an ungodly amount of time. But it allowed me to change, too. I threw on a different jersey—Grayson’s, since Juniper had my Knights one—and slid into a more comfortable pair of shoes because I wasn’t a fucking hypocrite.

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