Julian (Beautiful Mine #1) (5 page)

I smiled, secretly proud of myself for getting him to eat so well all week. He would start putting on weight in no time. I planned on making him a huge breakfast the next morning. I refused to let him subsist on plain oatmeal and wheat toast any longer.

Julian finished his dinner, and I helped him upstairs and into his bed.

“Was today all that bad?” I asked, pulling the covers over him.

“I actually had a really nice time today,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. It was probably one of the nicest things he’d said to me all week.

“You and your backhanded compliments,” I snickered.

Without warning, Julian moved his hand up to my face and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. “That was bugging me.”

He was starting to come out of his shell, even if only in small increments. I was sort of starting to love my job, and spending my days with Julian was actually becoming fun.

“You can call me Jules, if you want,” he said.

“Like Jules Verne?” I asked. “I like Julian. It suits you better. It’s sort of all buttoned-up and proper, like you.”

“I’m not buttoned-up,” he scoffed.

I laughed, the tension in my body fading slowly. “I bet to differ.”

Julian sat up in his bed and inched closer to me, and for a brief moment, I felt like he wanted to kiss me. I quickly snapped out of it, telling myself I was imagining things.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m not tired anymore,” he said. “Want to stay up and talk?”

He patted the spot on his bed next to him.

“Or we can stay up and watch a little T.V., or something,” he suggested.

“Sure, okay,” I said, sliding in next to him and leaning back against the headboard.

Julian flipped the T.V. to a boring cable news show where two pundits were discussing the economy, debating whether or not we were truly out of the recession. I glanced over at him through the corner of my eye. In the glow of the T.V., he looked normal. I didn’t see his sunken cheeks or under eye circles. He didn’t look sick. He was actually quite handsome with his square jaw, full lips, penetrating champagne eyes, and perfectly straight nose.

I yawned and instinctively scooted my back down the headboard until my head hit the pillow.

“Stay awake,” Julian said as he nudged me.

“I know. I’m trying. I’m so tired.”

“I want to show you something.” He turned off the T.V. and sent the room into pitch darkness, which sent me into a state of instant alertness. I heard him clicking a few buttons, and in an instant, the ceiling lit up with stars. “It’s my own little planetarium.”

“Julian,” I said, sitting up. “This is beautiful.”

“I turn it on every night before bed. I have it on a timer. It helps me fall asleep sometimes.”

“I love this. Does my room have one?”

I sunk back into his soft bed and slipped my hands behind my head as I took in the simplistic, starry sky above us. Lying there in the dark, I felt the warmth of his breath close to my face and the soft caress of his hand upon my cheek, gently pulling my lips toward his. I thought about pushing him away, but confusion paralyzed me, and it felt so good to be wanted again. His lips pressed against mine, softly and tenderly. Perfectly sweet.

I pushed him away the second I remembered how much I loved working there and how much I needed that job. “I should go to bed.”

JULIAN

She left my room in a hurry, and I thanked God she couldn’t see how red-hot my cheeks were burning. Why’d I have to go and kiss her? I clicked off the planetarium and threw my remote across the room.

The taste of her lips lingered on mine. A mix of cherry lip balm and cinnamon gum—that was what Evie Cawthorn tasted like. She was my first kiss. At twenty-fucking-four years old, she was my first kiss.

Rolling around town with her, listening to music and talking about whatever happened to come to mind, I just felt different around her. The Julian Garner-Willoughby who had returned to the mansion earlier that night was not the same one who’d walked out of there that morning.

I pulled the covers over my head, desperate to forget what had just happened, and closed my eyes.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of Evie’s voice and the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet as she carried my breakfast over to the table by my window.

“I made you an awesome breakfast,” she said proudly. Much to my relief, she was pretending like the kiss hadn’t happened.

I wasn’t half the person Evie was, though, and I couldn’t pretend. “I’m not hungry.”

“I just spent an hour downstairs making this for you,” Evie pouted. “I’ll be really disappointed if you don’t touch it.”

“You eat it, then.”

“I want you to have it. I made it for you.”

I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see her baby blue eyes pleading with me or the pout of her full lips, the very same ones I’d claimed the night before in a fit of I-don’t-know-what. I didn’t want to see the way her t-shirt hugged the slight curve of her hips or the way her black yoga pants left very little to the imagination.

“I said, I’m not hungry,” I repeated, not mincing my words.

“You know,” she said with a frustrated sigh, “I was perfectly fine acting like nothing happened last night. I don’t know why you have to be this way.”

I forced myself to look right at her, and the vision of her pretty face and soft features in the faint light of my room was like pouring salt into an open wound. I’d never wanted something so badly in my life, and the fact that I couldn’t have her drove me insane.

“I can’t do that,” I said through gritted teeth. “It’s all I can think about.”

She sauntered up to the bed, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and sitting down next to me. “Look. I genuinely care about you. I want to work for your family for years to come. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Her voice was soft and sweet, but not reassuring enough for me. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m assuming I’m the first girl your age that you’ve spent this much time with,” she said, treading lightly. “I’m sure you’re confused about how you feel toward me. We were lying in bed last night in the dark. The stars were lit above us. We’d just spent the entire day together. It was romantic, I’ll admit. I can see how it happened. I just don’t want to jeopardize anything, okay? I want to be around for as long as I can.”

“I guess,” I said, my eyes falling to the floor, releasing her gaze.

The faint shudder of the front door opening and closing below us brought us out of the conversation, and Evie ran to the window to see who was here.

“Your parents are back early,” she said. I could hear a hint of disappointment in her voice, whether or not she realized it.

“Hi, there,” my mother said as she quietly made her presence known in my doorway a few minutes later. Her black Chanel bag dripped from her shoulder, the chain digging into the fur lapel of her jacket. “Obviously, you can see we’re back early. Your father closed on the deal the first day we were there. He’s just that good.”

“Did you get to do anything fun while you were there?” Evie asked.

Caroline studied our faces. “We did see a show, but I was anxious to get back and see how my baby was doing.”

She rushed to my side in a forced attempt to pretend like she actually gave two shits about me.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Evie offered. I quickly shot her a look, but she wasn’t looking my way. I didn’t want her to leave. I’d have taken those awkward minutes with Evie over being alone with my mother anytime.

“Actually, Evie, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Caroline offered. “You’ve been working so hard this week. Please, take some time for yourself.”

“Thanks so much!” Evie said. A little part of me died when I saw the excitement written all over her face.

“Why do you seem so sad, Julian?” my mother asked the second Evie left the room. “Did this week go all right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snipped, turning away from her.

“Are you not feeling well?” she asked, placing her cold palm against my warm forehead. I wanted to tell her to cut the crap. No one was watching. She didn’t need to pretend like she cared anymore.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Do you miss Eleanor?”

“Not really.”

“Are things not working with Evie? Should we find someone else?”

“No,” I said, snapping my face in her direction. “Evie is great. Don’t get rid of her. I’m just tired. I want to take a nap.”

My mother hesitated before standing up, studying me as if I wasn’t the same son she’d left just a few days ago. “Okay. I’ll leave you be.”

EVIE

I traipsed in my room to grab my bag and found an envelope full of cash lying on my bed. Five crisp one-hundred dollar bills, all for a few days’ worth of work. I picked up my phone and immediately dialed my best friend and partner in crime, Carys Harrison.

“Hey, let’s go out tonight!” I said. “My treat.”

“Two words: hell yes,” Carys said. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

As I left the Garner-Willoughby mansion a short time later, I thought about Julian. I wondered what he was going to be doing that night, all by himself. I knew he was used to being alone, but a part of me could tell he was enjoying my company. I could see it in his eyes, or when he would subtly smile whenever I’d razz him and challenge him a bit. I wondered if he ever wished he could go out with friends his own age and have a normal, young adult life.

I pulled into the parking lot of Carys’ apartment complex, and within minutes, all 5’9’’ of her sauntered out. Her shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair was polished and flat-ironed with nary an out of place strand, and she wore her highest nude pumps and shortest black dress. I always felt impossibly plain next to her, but she’d been my best friend since third grade when her family had moved onto my street, and I’d grown used to the spotlight always being on her anywhere we went.

“Hey, chick!” Carys said as she hopped into my car. A mix of spicy, floral perfume and hairspray filled the car. “Ready to hit the town tonight?”

“I’m so ready,” I said, pulling out of the parking lot. A light sprinkling of snowflakes dusted the windshield as I drove, and I chuckled a little at the fact that it was still winter and Carys was dressed like she was going to be partying it up in Cancun. “It’s been forever since I’ve been out.”

For a split second earlier that afternoon, I’d contemplated canceling on Carys and sticking all the money in savings. I wanted to buy my dad a snow blower for next winter and my mom a diamond necklace, and Alexa needed a new wardrobe. I could just hear my dad’s lecture about money being “easy come, easy go” and the value of a dollar. But I needed this. Just one night to celebrate the fact that things were finally headed in the right direction for me.

Carys reached over, turned the radio on, and began singing along to one of our old favorite songs from high school. “Oh, my God. Remember this?”

She screeched along to the lyrics. Though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, it never stopped her from belting her heart out.

“Where are we going tonight?” I asked.

“I didn’t tell you?” she said. Her eyes lit up as she turned to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. “I found out through some people at work that Spencer is in town this week. Aaaaand I heard he was going to be at Mulligan’s tonight. I think we should go there. And I think you should show him what he’s been missing these last few years.” Her lips curled into a devilish smile.

“I can’t,” I objected, panic instantly flooding my body. I wanted to turn around. I wanted to puke. I hadn’t seen him in years, not since he dumped me before he left for college. “This is weird. I look horrible. Why didn’t you warn me?”

Without hesitation, Carys whipped out a stick of berry lipstick and a mammoth tube of mascara and began working her magic on my face as I drove. She flung her makeup back into her purse and pulled a hair tie off her wrist as she swept my dark hair into a top knot and secured it.

“Lose the cardigan, dork,” she said, tugging at my sleeve. With her help, I wriggled out of it, my skin immediately prickling from the frigid air. “There. Gorgeous. Any other excuses?”

I pulled into the parking lot in front of Mulligan’s, scanning the area for a sign of Spencer’s presence and wondering if he still had his black Range Rover. My heart pounded hard in my chest at the thought of bumping into him. I’d played that scenario in my head a million times over the years, but I never thought it would actually happen.

Being rejected by someone who once loved you like crazy would give a girl a complex. I spent years fantasizing about the day I could prove to Spencer I was good enough for him and that he’d made a huge mistake walking away from me. From us.

Inside the warm bar, I flirted my way into a couple of free drinks and ran across some old friends from high school.

“Evie, I haven’t seen you forever,” my old friend, Evan, said as he walked up and wrapped me in a big hug. “What’ve you been up to?”

“I just started a new job working for the Garner-Willoughby family,” I said with a proud smile. “I’m their son’s nurse.”

“Oh,” Evan said, wincing. “I’ve heard about them.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “They’ve been great, so far.”

“You just… hear things…” he said cryptically. “I don’t want to get into it.”

“You kind of have to now,” I insisted, eyebrow raised.

“Arthur is my mom’s second cousin, or something like that,” he said, taking a sip of beer from his pilsner glass. “I don’t know the full connection. I’ve just heard some pretty, um,
interesting
things about Caroline. Just be careful around her. But hey, if she’s good to you, she must like you. Good for you.”

“This is pretty heavy conversation, guys,” Carys interjected, slipping between us and hanging her arms around our shoulders. “Tequila shots?”

“Oh, no, I can’t do those.” I waved her off.

“Are you kidding me? Are. You. Kidding. Me,” she said, her tone incredulous. “Don’t be such a lame-ass tonight.”

She traipsed back toward the bar and returned with a tray full of tequila shots, salt shakers, and lime wedges. She wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. As I licked the salt, shot the tequila, and bit the lime, the world around me began to disappear little by little, and for the first time in forever, I forced myself to just let go.

“Dance with me,” I shouted to Evan over the music booming from the speakers. I pulled his arm and dragged him out to the dance floor where we danced as if no one was watching.

About three songs into our two-person dance party, a tap on my shoulder pulled me back into the present moment. I spun around, breathless and red-faced, to be faced with none other than the enigmatic and uber-elusive Spencer Goodwin.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his trademarked half-smile.

“Spencer,” I said, trying to catch my breath and nonchalantly wipe the faint perspiration from my brow. “I was just dancing with Evan.”

“I see that,” he said, glancing over my shoulder to where Evan stood behind me, hands on his hips.

“I haven’t seen you forever,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “How’ve you been? What’s new? We need to catch up.” I tried to shut up, but the words kept coming. The more he stood there, quietly staring at me, the more I wanted to fill that silence with casual words that took away the sting of staring at a man I hardly knew anymore, but remembered so vividly. “How’s school? How many years do you have left? Do you come home often?”

As if on cue, Carys popped in between us to intervene and save my inebriated self from regret and humiliation.

“I’ll bring her right back to you.” She pulled me by the arm back to the corner of the bar. “What are you doing? This is your one shot, and you’re blowing it. Stop talking so much and act like you’re not interested in him. If you him to eat his heart out, you have to play the game. Now, go try again.”

Sheepish and still red-faced, I sauntered back over to Spencer, but by the time I returned, he was surrounded by other old friends who were also equally as excited to see him. I made a beeline back to our table and ordered another drink. I’d blown my one shot.

I watched him from afar as he laughed and smiled and talked, practically surrounded by half our graduating class. After several minutes of feeling like a complete ass, I checked the time on my phone. It was barely ten o’clock. Julian was probably sleeping.

“What’s new with you?” a man’s voice said, startling me. I looked up, only to see Spencer standing before me. He’d come back, and it took everything I had not to melt under the nostalgic warmth of his ocean blue eyes and shaggy, auburn hair. He took a seat across from me.

“I just finished nursing school,” I said. “I’m a private nurse for the Garner-Willoughbys right now.”

“Good for you.” He smiled, his eyes sweeping over me as if all of our sweet high school memories were replaying in his head. “I think about you all the time, Evie.”

Taken aback, I opened my mouth to respond, and then stopped. I’d fantasized about him saying those very words to me for the last few years, but never in a million years did I think it would happen.

“I wish things could’ve worked out with us,” he said with an air of bittersweet regret, his eyes lowering as he spun his empty glass on the table.

“Yeah, if only I would’ve gotten into Vanderbilt, huh?” I said. I easily could’ve gotten into Vanderbilt. I graduated at the top of our class. My family just couldn’t afford it. I should’ve added, “And if only you’d never cheated on me.”

My stomach dropped, floored by the vivid memory of my first love telling me things were over and the way my teenage self interpreted it as not being good enough for him.

After a couple minutes of awkward silence, our little reunion was interrupted by yet another old classmate, and as he and Spencer got reacquainted, I got up and returned my empty glass to the bar. I waved goodbye to Carys and headed outside. There was no point in sticking around and talking about what might have been with the guy who crushed my heart into a million pieces.

“Evie,” Spencer called out, running behind me in all his former track star glory. I kept walking, and the instant the cool, February air hit my face, I embraced the freezing cold of the night. “You can’t drive home. You’ve been drinking. Let me take you.”

“You’ve been drinking, too,” I replied, stopping to turn to him. He looked even more gorgeous than he had before standing in the street under the pale light of a streetlamp, snowflakes falling into his perfect, ruddy hair.

“Actually, no,” he said. “I haven’t had a single drop. I’ve been drinking water all night.”

“Oh. I just assumed…”

He placed his arm around my shoulder, ushering me toward his car, and my stumbling feet indicated he was correct. I was in no shape to drive myself home. “Come on. Get in my car. I’m taking you home.”