Page 49 of Alive At Night

“Absolutely.”

“Sorry.” A bit of wistfulness snuck into the word like he really did wish he could jump into a car and disappear from this garage. “My DeLorean’s in the shop at the moment.”

“Guess you’ll have to make do with something else.” I glanced around the space, looking for other escape options.

Julian nodded toward the motorcycle leaning against the back of the garage—the only choice around. “I doubt Noah will like it if I take his bike to a different decade.”

He walked over to it, running a finger over the handlebars and then the shiny leather. I sipped from my cup, watching him closely as he appreciated the motorcycle.

“It’s Noah’s?”

A nod. “He bought it at some auction, but it needed a ton of work. So it’s been a project of mine for a while.”

“Are you finished with it?”

“Yeah.” Julian’s eyes swept over the motorcycle, apparent pride in them. He looked like he wanted to hop on it and ride, escape. So I gave him the option to. The buzzing in my veins told me it would be a good idea. I sidled up to the bike, putting one palm flat on the seat and leaning on it.

“We should probably test it out, huh?”

There was a spark in Julian’s eyes as he digested my comment, and something odd, something akin to hope, spread in my chest. But it vanished when he began shaking his head, rejecting the idea. Rejecting me.

“No, we shouldn’t.”

His demeanor shifted while he took a familiar stance in front of the bike. Of course he would protect his special project from me. I’d find a way to fuck it up, wouldn’t I? I’d find a way to ruin something else for him.

“You would drive,” I said. I assumed that’d be obvious, but maybe Julian thoughtIwanted to test it out, and that was his problem.

“Obviously, I would drive.”

Goddamn him.

Julian’s expression was stern, final. And it brought back my irritation from yesterday when he wouldn’t even let me and Gemma drive home from Boston without him. After all this time, I couldn’t believe he wasstilllike this.

I shrugged, trying to let it go. “When are you giving it back to Noah? I’ll ask him to take me for a ride, then.”

Julian stiffened. More than I thought was possible. But there he was, in all his six-foot-three glory, standing rigidly in front of me, his jaw ticking with evident frustration.

Usually, I did a better job at controlling myself, at keeping my mask firmly in its place on my face, especially when Julian was involved. But my tongue felt a little loose, my fingers a little tingly. And my lips started to curve with a ghost of a sly smile.

“I’ll text him right now,” I added before remembering I didn’t even have my phone on me. Apparently, Girl Scouts didn’t believe in pockets.

Julian took a quick step toward me, seeming ready to intervene. But when I didn’t take out my phone, he sighed.

“We can take it for a spin when you’re sober,” he said while slowly assessing me. And at that very inopportune moment, the world swayed around me. Or maybeIwas swaying. Because Julian’s hand shot out, settling firmly on my waist to steady me. “I don’t trust that you can hang on to me while on a moving vehicle right now. That’s all.”

I automatically opened my mouth to argue before the image of what he’d said started to conjure in my brain. Me, behind Julian. My arms, around his waist. Us, sitting on the same seat. Close. Too close. The thrum of the motorcycle engine. The thrum of—

He was right. It wasn’t a good idea. None of this was a good idea. Not how he was touching me, not how I was proposing ideas for us to touchmore.

“Okay,” I whispered, refusing to meet his probing gaze. Instead, I darted away, back into the safety of the Briggs’ house.

The crowd, the music, the sprinkling of redheads amongst guests—I could hide here. This was familiar and safe. The garage was officially off-limits, and the person inside it had always been off-limits. But it was good to remind my tipsy self of that.

I didn’t see Julian for the rest of the party. I saw every single Briggs except for him. And that was okay. I was fine with that. I wasrelievedby that. I didn’t see Greg, either. Another reason to be relieved.

Yet unease spread like a web within me, catching all my worries and holding them there. I couldn’t even put a finger on what they were, just that they werethere.

Not even alcohol seemed to release them. But I kept trying.

---