Page 27 of Dreams and Desires

Before she can respond, a doctor appears with her brother, Jacob, who looks even more fragile than before. Dominique, the doctor, gives us both a knowing look. “Jacob is ready to go, Juniper.”

Ignoring me, Juniper walks toward the exit with her brother, and I can’t help but follow. Outside, the rain is pouring down, drenching everything in sight. I see Juniper and Jacob huddling under the awning, clearly waiting for a ride.

“Need a lift?” I ask, trying to sound casual, though my heart is pounding in my chest.

“No, thank you,” Juniper snaps, her voice icy. “We’re waiting for an Uber.”

I glance at Jacob, who looks miserable standing in the cold, wet weather. “In this rain? Come on, let me help.”

Jacob looks at his sister, pleading with his eyes. “Juniper, maybe we should—“

“No,” she cuts him off sharply. “We’re fine.”

I step closer, my gaze locking onto hers. “It’s pouring, Juniper. You don’t need to be stubborn.”

She stands up straighter, facing me, the rain soaking her dress and making it cling to her body. Her nipples are visible through the thin fabric, and I can’t help but stare. She notices, her cheeks flushing with anger, and she folds her arms over her chest, glaring at me with rage and something else—something I can’t quite place.

Just then, a car speeds by, splashing water all over us. Juniper curses under her breath, looking even more furious. “Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. “But don’t think this means anything.”

I nod, hiding a smile. “Of course not.”

We settle into the back of the car, the heater doing its best to combat the chill that’s seeped into our bones. Jacob sits between Juniper and me, his presence a buffer, but not enough to ease the strained silence hanging in the air.

“Thanks for the lift, Zade,” Jacob says, breaking the silence after a while. “This rain’s a killer, huh?”

I nod, keeping my eyes on the road. “No problem, Jacob. I couldn’t leave you out there in this mess.”

Jacob picks up on the awkward vibe and jumps in. "You know, Juniper," he starts, keeping it casual. “I remember when you used to love rainy days. You’d drag me outside, splashing through puddles like it was the best thing ever.”

She doesn’t respond; she just shifts in her seat, her gaze still locked on the world outside.

Jacob chuckles, trying again. “Hey, do you remember that time we got caught in a storm on the way back from the creek? We were soaked, and you made us stop at that diner for hot chocolate.”

Juniper lets out a small sigh, but her expression softens slightly, just for a moment. “Yeah, I remember,” she mutters, barely audible.

Jacob grins, glad to get any response. “I think you even convinced the waitress to give us extra marshmallows. You always had a way with people.”

I sneak another glance at her. Her posture is still tense, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe a hint of the old Juniper, the one Jacob’s trying to reach.

“Those were simpler times, huh?” Jacob mutters quietly, sounding lost in the memory. “Wish we had a little of that simplicity now.”

Juniper finally turns away from the window, her eyes meeting mine for just a second before she looks away again. “Yeah,” she says softly, almost to herself. “We could.”

We finally pull up to their place. Jacob’s out of the car before it even stops rolling all the way. He heads straight for the door like he can’t wait to shake off the weirdness in the air.

I glance at Juniper. She’s just starting to move, one hand on the door handle. But as she shifts, her dress snags on something—my watch, I think. She freezes, looks down, then yanks at the fabric.

Her mouth tightens. She doesn’t say anything, but the look on her face says plenty. She just wants out of this car.

“Seriously?” she mutters under her breath, cursing softly as she tries to free the fabric. Her fingers work quickly, but the awkward angle isn’t helping.

I reach over to help, but she swats my hand away. “I’ve got it,” she snaps, her tone sharp.

“Just trying to help,” I say, though I can’t help the small grin that tugs at my lips.

After a few more moments of struggling, she finally frees her dress and steps out of the car. “Thank you,” she mutters, barely audible, clearly embarrassed and annoyed.

“Anytime,” I reply, half-joking. “Your stubbornness is both infuriating and kind of cute.”

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