Page 88 of Love Sick

I hold the dark gaze of the one standing in front of me.

No. This one’s different, isn’t he?

Julian’s eyes do that predatory thing, and wild flags of color stain his cheeks. Sharp as a scalpel, his voice slices me. “The guy’s an asshole. Remember that if he tries to talk to you again.”

“I know.” Uncertainty crackles in my chest, along with a quiet warning bell. “Julian?”

His mouth tightens.

I step a tad closer to him. “Are you angry?”

“I—” He schools his features and drops his attention to our hands between us, the gel pack gathering condensation. “Yes. Not at you. At him. Think about what could’ve happened. He could’ve—you wouldn’t even remember it.”

“I know. I never drink that much.” Shame weakens my voice. “The night just got away from me.”

His face softens. “You felt safe with your friends. Makes sense.”

A tiny smile breaks through my awkwardness. “Right. Um—thank you.”

The edge of his mouth curls, easing the tightness in my chest. “You already thanked me.”

I imagine myself calling him Lucifer and adding a thanks as an afterthought. “Was I rude about it?”

Those veiled eyes freeze me in place, searching deep inside me. What is he looking for? What is hefinding? He tilts his head. “No. Drunk Sapphire actually likes me.”

Laughter bursts from me. “Did she tell you that? She’s a classless ho.”

He shrugs. “Sober Sapphire will catch up to reality eventually. Our drunk personas rarely lie.”

My stomach drops. Oh god. Did I tell him I think he’s pretty? I will never live that down. “What else did I say?”

A slow smile spreads over his face.

“No.” My heartbeat accelerates. “What did I say, Julian?”

He bites his lower lip, but it does nothing to hide the grin.

I cover my eyes with my free hand. “Did I say anything embarrassing?”

“You told me I have talented hands.”

My stomach drops. If I said that, then what other secrets did my drunk ass spill? The noise that erupts from my nose is the least attractive thing I’ve ever done, and he laughs.

“You also told me you’ll destroy me.”

“Oh.” I nod and pull him by the hand toward the couch. “So a typical day for you and me, then?” I collapse on the comfiest spot.

He sits more gracefully, still holding the ice pack against his hand. “I wouldn’t call it typical.”

“What would you call it?”

He smiles. “Educational.”

My eyes narrow. “There’s stuff you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

“Yep.” His black gaze meets mine, the no-smile confusing my insides. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Don’t think about it, Grace.

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