Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“I already got you something.”
Her surprise is glorious, then dims. “I hope you didn’t spend much.”
I snake a hand around her waist and pull her to me. “You being with me is present enough.”
She eyes me doubtfully.
“You don’t believe it?”
“Maybe.” She pauses. “I went to Parker’s aunt’s house once for a birthday party. Not because he wanted me to meet his parents. It was because he told me he had a fantasy of fucking me in the pool house while all of his uncles and aunts and cousins were there.”
She turns to open the shower door. I can feel the unease in her, that she’s comparing me to Parker.
It dawns on me. “Fuck.”
She drapes a towel around her chest. “What?”
“Parker’s parents. They always come to the Christmas party. My dad and him were Kappas together.”
Her eyes widen.
I exhale, nodding. “Are Parker’s parents a problem?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. We barely spoke. We didn’t do anything in the pool house. We stayed for half an hour and left.”
I get that. There are so many people at our Christmas party, there’s usually only time for superficial talk. The whole Kappa/Julia thing probably won’t come up. “My dad’s crowd have a pretty short memory, especially with alcohol flowing.”
Unless you fuck up.
Then, they remember it forever.
“As long as you don’t try to drag me into your pool house, I think I’ll survive.”
“I’d be an asshole if that’s what I wanted you there for.”
“Then what do you want me for?”
“I wanted you before I got into bed with you. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself after everything I did in prep school.”
“You have me now.”
“And you have me.” I kiss her.
But I can’t help the unease that pricks at me as we dart back to my bedroom. I watch her dress with a needle digging under my skin.
Things are good.
We’re too good.
And anytime something feels this perfect, I know that the bad is coming.
27
Julia
I attach the fake eyelashes to the magnetic adhesive on my lids. Nice. Turning my head in the mirror, I take in my upswept chignon. A few tendrils hang around my face, softening the style. My lips are a glossy nude and my cheeks are contoured and highlighted.
My lips quirk. The classy stripper.
The doorbell rings and echoes in the house. Poppy and Taylor have already left for the holidays, but they’ll be back before New Year’s so we can celebrate together.
“One second,” I call as I rush down the stairs in my bare feet.
I swing open the door with a big smile.
Eric leans against the doorjamb, looking devastatingly handsome in a black tux, obviously tailored to fit, the silky fabric snug over his shoulders and chest. His hair is tamed and swept off his face. On his feet are polished black loafers.
“You weren’t kidding when you said it was formal,” I say, smiling.
“You look good enough to eat.” His eyes drink me in, starting at my hair then roving down to my pale pink toenails.
“Thanks.” I smooth down the lines of my cocktail dress. Made from raw black silk, it’s a textured, lush fabric. The bodice has spaghetti straps and a square neckline. Reminiscent of the fifties, the skirt is flared out with a petticoat underneath. On top of the skirt is a layer of Italian lace in a rose lace design. I feel like a million bucks.
I step into strappy black heels, then reach behind the sofa and pull out a flat, wrapped package. “You said we’d exchange gifts before the party, so . . .”
“Whoa, this thing is huge,” he says as he takes it from me and sits on the couch. He grins. “The wrapping paper is reindeers playing hockey. You did good.”
I nod, anticipation rippling over me as he tears it open.
“Julia. This is awesome.” His eyes track over the poster-sized hockey photo of him I had professionally framed. It’s the one where he looks like a blur on the ice. He gets a bemused look on his face.
“What?” I sit next to him.
“I don’t know. Just not used to getting such a great gift from a girl. It’s nice.”
“You’re welcome.”
He draws me close and kisses the top of my head. “This pic is going on my wall.”
I rub my hands together, then hold them out to him. “Mine?”
“Eager, huh? Hang on.” He strides out to the porch, then comes back inside holding a red box with a white bow. “This is part one.”
“Part one? You’re spoiling me.” I tear open the lid and gasp. “Is this . . .”
“A Nikon. I read all the pros and cons and this one came out on top. It comes with a bag and all sorts of lenses.”
It’s clear he spent more on my gift than I did his.
“You like it?”
I nod jerkily, feeling the gulf between us but also not caring. He’s wonderful.