Page 35 of Alive At Night

He shot me a look, his eyes narrowing and jaw twitching, and I immediately regretted opening my mouth. I knew what he was about to say, and I would do anything to escape the upcoming conversation.

“Which one of you is driving?”

Yep, there it was.

From the beginning, Julian thought I was some sort of imposter into their family—like he couldn’t fathom having yetanothergirl in the house. While the rest of the Briggs family treated me like I was the sixth sister, Julian had always rejected that idea. Instead, he liked to pretend I didn’t exist.

But then there were times that he was forced to acknowledge me, never for good reasons. And the car accident Gemma and I were in on a snowy night in high school was the worst one. He still blamed me for that, for what happened. He went from thinking I was annoying to hating me because of it, but not more than I hated myself.

“Gemma is driving,” I said icily, knowing it would be what he wanted to hear. “Something is wrong with my car’s brakes right now, so I’m riding with her.”

His previous concerned expression twisted visibly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I tell you what?”

“That your brakes aren’t working.”

“Why would I tell you?” He acted like we had the kind of relationship where we shared personal life details even though we usually just tried to get through the workday without biting each other’s heads off. “It’s notthatbad. Just whenever I drive, they—”

“Jesus Christ, Juniper,” he cut me off, and I jumped from how sharply he said my name. My real name. “You’re still driving with bad brakes?”

“Why do you care?” I shot back, instantly defensive as I careened into memories of that night in high school and all the other nights, too. Anxious energy filled my words. “As long as I’m not driving Gemma around, it’s not like it’ll matter to you if I end up in a ditch with a broken neck.”

Julian flinched at my harsh words, his eyes darkening as they swept over me. When he spoke, his voice was eerily low. Unsteady. “Don’t ever say something like that again.”

I looked away, unable to handle the intensity of Julian’s stare or how it made me feel. My heart was already in my throat from thinking about the accident, and now—

“Did you drive to work?” he asked, the sharpness returning to his tone.

I shook my head, peeking over to find him looking more relaxed. Relieved.

“Your car’s at your apartment?” he clarified.

Still not trusting myself to speak, I nodded. And with that response, Julian quickly packed his belongings and made for the door without even glancing at me. I breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation was over until Julian checked back over his shoulder.

“Coming?”

I frowned. “You don’t need to wait for me.”

“Yes, I do.” He momentarily pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need you to show me where your car is so I can look at it.”

He wasn’t serious, was he?

“I have an appointment with a mechanic next week.”

“I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re an attorney, not a mechanic.”

This man really liked to act like he was all-powerful sometimes, and it drove me up the wall.

“I’m as good as one after how many years I worked in my dad’s shop, and you know it.” The longer Julian lingered in the doorway, the redder his face seemed to grow. Maybe it would match his hair soon. “How are you planning to get to your appointment if your brakes don’t work?”

I shrugged. “Well, it’s not far, and my brakes should work enough to get me there—”

Julian interrupted me with a grunt. “Let’s go.”

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