He chuckles. “Good unexpected.” His buoyant expression turns serious as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. I can see a war raging within. “And scary unexpected,” he adds, releasing his hold on my lower back and bringing his hand to my face.
When he runs his thumb along my bottom lip, I plump it out. Electricity courses through my veins as the heat of his breath grows closer and closer. I brace myself for his kiss. I welcome his kiss. In twelve years, I’ve only known one man’s kiss, one man’s arms, one man’s body. Perhaps it’s time I experience something new, too. I may regret it tomorrow. Hell, I may regret it in a few minutes. But right now, I just want to be kissed again.
As I inch even closer, a body unexpectedly slams into me. Everything seems to play in slow motion as I struggle to regain my balance. Julian reaches out, scrambling to grab onto me, but gravity is not my friend, and with unceremonious grace, I fall into the pool.
When I resurface, I wipe at my eyes, seeing all the partygoers staring in my direction, and my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I normally don’t care about making a complete fool of myself. But here, I’m self-conscious, especially when I notice everyone whispering amongst themselves as they gawk at the poor girl who got bumped into the pool.
Thankfully, Sadie soon emerges from the crowd, a cool confidence about her. “Well, it is a pool party, isn’t it?”
She steps out of her sandals that I can only imagine cost a small fortune. Leaving her drink on a nearby table, she dives into the pool with the practiced expertise of a swimmer. When she pops her head above the water, she meets my eyes, winking.
I pass her a grateful smile, unsure how I’ll ever repay her for doing this. I shrug out of my now soaked coverup and take my shoes off, tossing them onto the pool deck just as I notice Julian removing his shirt. I keep my eyes trained on him, unable to look away from his chiseled physique, everything about it near perfection, except for the scars on his abdomen. In my eyes, those scars are part of the fabric that makes up who he is, although I’d love to learn the story behind them.
With a smirk, he cannonballs into the pool, disappearing beneath the surface. Before I know it, dozens of people jump in, some of them wearing their street clothes, the alcohol encouraging them on.
As my eyes scan the sudden festive environment, I notice Theresa and Trevor standing off to the side. She pulls on his hand, attempting to get him to join in the revelry. He refuses, excusing himself and heading into the house. I shouldn’t feel partly responsible for his sour mood, considering he broke up with me. But despite everything, I still care about him.
I’m about to find my way out of the pool to talk to him when an arm loops around my waist. Spinning around, I meet Julian’s eyes, smiling. Like two puzzle pieces locking into place, I drape my arms over his shoulders, making anyone think we’ve done this dance dozens of times before. I do my best to ward off the electricity flooding through me as we remain chest to chest, our wet flesh pressed against each other.
“I thought you wanted people to take you seriously,” I remark.
“I do.”
“I’m not sure this accomplishes that.”
“That’s true, but I couldn’t resist.”
“Resist what?”
“Getting wet with you.”
“Is that right?” I run my hand through his waterlogged hair, scratching at his scalp. He bites his bottom lip, groaning from the contact.
“I have a feeling I’m going to have trouble resisting a lot of things about you over the next few weeks.”
I bring my mouth toward his, remaining just out of reach. “Only time will tell.”
Chapter Twenty
“Let me help you,” Julian says once the valet attendant pulls up with his car. We approach the Ferrari and he reaches for my hand. The instant he touches my skin, he flings his eyes to mine. “Jesus! You’re freezing!”
“That’s what happens when the air cools down and you’re wearing nothing but a wet two-piece.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” His brows pull together in concern.
“It’s not a big deal,” I insist as I climb into the passenger seat. “I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that, but if you’re uncomfortable, you need to tell me.” He takes the key fob from the valet attendant and pops the trunk. After rummaging around in it for a minute, he closes it, then ducks into the driver’s seat, handing me a sweatshirt.
I look at the big, bold letters printed on the front. “SUNY?”
He shrugs. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Harvard. Yale. Columbia.” As I pull the enormous sweatshirt over my head, I inhale, instantly bathed in a scent that can only be described as Julian. It reminds me of waking up in his bed that first morning, panicked. I don’t even recognize him as that person anymore. I don’t recognize myself as that person, either.
He finds my hand and brings it onto the shifter, our fingers intertwined as he puts the car into first. “Nope. I enjoyed my higher education years out here in Stony Brook.”
“Interesting,” I muse, settling against the cool leather as he pulls around the elaborate driveway, navigating onto the quiet road, my hand glued beneath his as he shifts between the gears.
“Interesting? How so?”
“I had you pegged as more an Ivy League guy.”
“I guess you had me pegged wrong.” When he glances at me with a sparkle in his blue eyes, I can’t reel in my smile.
“I guess I did.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t find out about this when you Googled me.”
“I must have gotten distracted by other information that your college education didn’t seem all that interesting in comparison.”
“Like what?”
“Like Theodore Price.”
When I say the name, he swallows hard, the mood shifting from playful to somber. He passed away over ten years ago now, but by Julian’s unfocused stare, it’s apparent he still grieves the loss of the man who, according to many reports, molded him into the person he is today.
“He sounds like a good man,” I offer when he remains silent.
“He saved my life.”
I want to ask more, my mind immediately going to the scars on his abdomen.
“Did he—”
“I want you to promise me something, Guinevere,” he interrupts, his voice determined. His hardened expression is at complete odds with the way he clutches my hand, his thumb brushing against my skin haphazardly, as if it’s second nature.
“What’s that?”
“That you’ll stay as far away from Ethan Ludlow as you can. That you’ll come find me if he so much as breathes on you the wrong way. No matter what I’m doing, who I’m speaking with. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of some negotiation.”
I shiver as I recall my earlier exchange with Ethan. The excitement of standing next to this Hollywood legend. Then the sickness filling me when I realized what kind of person he truly was.
“I knew I’d need to warn you about him eventually, but thought I could put it off. Obviously not, because he’s already interested. Word’s gotten out you’re a writer.”
“I’m not really—”
“You are. Don’t let anything Trevor said make you believe otherwise. You are a writer. That’s probably why Ethan tracked you down. That, and you were there with me.”
“Why? Is he one of the old money people who likes to constantly knock you down a few pegs?”
“You can say that. He’s one of Theodore Price’s children.”
I can’t hide the utter shock when I hear this. “What? I mean—”
“He uses his mother’s maiden name in the industry. An homage to her legacy, I suppose. So yes, he has a tendency to make it difficult for me to get things done, considering he’s a shareholder of the company, albeit a minority one. Outside of that, he’s still a Hollywood slimeball. He’ll offer you the moon and the stars, success, money, everything you’ve ever dreamt of. But trust me when I say it will come at a high price. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”