My stomach dropped. “What do you mean you lied?”
“At the cabin.” His eyes locked onto mine. “The first day we wrote a chapter of your book, I went outside and I had one bar. I could have called. I didn’t want to call.”
I exhaled slowly. “Why not?”
“I liked the calm,” he admitted. “And maybe hearing about you and Noah gave me hope that the world isn’t such a horrible, unfeeling place.”
“It just feels that way sometimes,” I offered sadly, lifting my free hand to his cheek. His eyes closed, his dark lashes fanning against perfect cheekbones.
We stayed like that a few minutes.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
Almost like we both knew we needed silence in between stretches of heavy conversation so we could process.
“We can’t . . .” I didn’t want to have this conversation but it needed to be had. “I like you, Julian, I do, but we can’t . . .”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Story of my life . . . wanting what I can’t have, only after realizing I never had it in the first place.”
My stomach sank. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.” He left me then, walked over to the sliding glass door, and opened it, letting in the noises from the city.
He didn’t look back to see if I was following.
Slowly he shrugged out of his jacket, followed by his shirt as he pulled it over his muscled chest. Next came his pants, socks, shoes, and then he was getting into the pool.
I watched in fascination as he swam back and forth, smooth, easy strokes. I couldn’t stop watching.
I was about to turn on my heel and leave him in peace when I remembered the reason for seeing him to begin with, his birthday.
He was alone on his birthday.
I couldn’t even process that.
He was alone, and all he’d wanted was me, was to pretend that it was different, that we could be together.
The worst part was, he thought that I wasn’t proud to be on his arm, proud to be seen. What he didn’t know was that my reputation was built on shaky social media ground. People had adored Noah.
They would crucify Julian.
I felt protective of him.
Protective of this strange thing between us.
Being seen with him could jeopardize the only thing I’d promised Noah I would do. But not just that; Julian’s life was already hell. If we started openly dating, it would be unbearable for him.
And nobody wanted to grieve in the public eye, least of all people who knew how unforgiving the media could be.
Keyboard warriors, in my opinion, were pieces of shit who needed to get a life and stop trying to direct ours.
I eyed the expensive stove and fridge in his fancy kitchen that looked like it could house a small family and made a decision.
I dropped my clutch on the white granite countertop, went to the fridge, opened it, and was successfully matched with a bottle of champagne.
I grabbed two flutes after rummaging around his wet bar and then joined him outside.
He was still doing laps.
The fresh breeze was cold enough to make my teeth chatter; the pool must be heated.
I walked over to the edge, hiked up my dress past my knees, and sat on the concrete while he kept swimming. He must have seen me because he immediately stopped and swam over. “Weren’t you leaving?”
“It’s your birthday,” I whispered.
His smile was sad. “It’s just another day, Keaton.”
“No,” I argued. “It’s the day you were brought into this world, and even though I didn’t know your mom, I imagine that was the happiest day of her life.”
Tears filled his eyes.
They filled mine.
He looked away like he didn’t want to talk about it, so I made quick work of the champagne bottle, popping off the top and pouring us two glasses. I handed him his and lifted mine. “To living.”
His chest rose and fell like he couldn’t get enough air in. “To living.”
“And to being the charming twin.” I winked, earning a laugh from him.
He raised his glass. “To the sexy twin.”
“It’s good we’re toasting to Bridge too,” I teased.
“Oh, princess, you really shouldn’t tease.” He set down his champagne and reached for me.
“You wouldn’t.” I tried to get to my feet. “Julian Tennyson!”
His wet hands touched my hips as he stood to his full height in the pool. My breath came out in a rough exhale as he moved between my legs. “I would.”
“I’ll get wet.”
His lips twitched. “Kinda the point, princess.”
“You’ll ruin my dress and my makeup,” I pointed out as another chill wracked my body. It wasn’t the cold, it was him, all him, and his naked chest and the way he was looking at me.
Like he’d seen me naked and wanted to see more.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
My body responded when I told it not to, when I very calmly explained to my pounding heart that we were sad, that we couldn’t move on, not yet, not with him.