Alive At Night (Wildflower Series Book 1)

SOMEONE JUST TOUCHED MY ass. And based on how Julian was now storming toward me, he saw someone touch my ass.

His eyes pinned on something—more likely, someone—behind me, and I spun, looking for the culprit. I didn’t spy them until Julian had pushed his way onto the dance floor and grabbed the shirt collar of a guy to my right.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t break all your fucking fingers.”

Julian’s low snarl made goose bumps rise on my skin and my jaw drop.

Did I—did I hear that correctly?

“I’m waiting,” Julian growled, reaffirming that, yes, I did hear it correctly. He gave the man a shake while keeping a white-knuckle grip on his shirt. When the man stammered something about it being an accident, Julian scoffed and released him with an eye roll that made it clear he didn’t believe that excuse for a second.

“Stay away from my girlfriend if you don’t want to go to physical therapy. Got it?”

The man—who looked to be a little older than me but with considerably less fashion taste—nodded. Once he split, Julian slid in casually behind me, circling his arms around my waist as though he hadn’t just threatened someone for getting too close to me.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, even though a slight tremor coursed through my bones. Honestly, it had a lot less to do with the guy who’d invaded my space and more with how Julian handled it. It wasn’t a surprise in the sense that Julian Briggs had always had an overprotective streak. But not with me. And not while calling me his girlfriend in the same breath.

Although that was probably why he did it. Just another part of the show, huh? That made sense, even if knowing the truth of it did nothing to stop my heart from hammering.

“How long have you two been together?” Sofia’s voice brought me back to reality. If she saw Julian threaten one of her guests, she didn’t seem annoyed by it. In fact, she appeared utterly unfazed as she twirled the straw in her glass, her body twisting slightly to the beat of the music. “I was surprised when you said you were bringing your boyfriend because I’ve never seen you post any pictures together.”

I stiffened, realizing she was right. Maybe she knew—she’d already figured it—

“Not long,” Julian replied easily, his lips brushing my ear. “But we’ve known each other forever.”

“We grew up together,” I added, relaxing into the truth. “Julian’s sister is my best friend.”

“That explains why you seem to know each other so well, even though your relationship is new,” Sofia said with an easy smile. Her gaze flicked over my shoulder to Julian. “What does your sister think about it?”

God, that was a good question. How would Gemma feel if she could see us right now? How would she feel if she knew the way Julian had held me last night? How would she react if she heard some of the things he said? Some of the things I said?

For the first time in a while, Julian seemed speechless until he cleared his throat.

“She’s getting used to it,” he replied, making Sofia laugh before someone cut in and stole the bride away from us.

The funny tone of Julian’s voice sparked curiosity. I spun in his arms, wanting to see his expression, but it caused me to momentarily lose my balance. Julian’s hold on me closed in, keeping me steady. Once the world straightened again, I tipped my head back, looking up his six-foot-plus frame to find him staring back at me, face wiped blank.

“Did Gemma say anything to you about this weekend?” I wondered.

“Just told me to behave.”

“Behave?”

Why was I suddenly curious to see what Julian acted like when he didn’t behave? Surely, Gemma didn’t think he’d misbehave in that way. Right?

Julian cleared his throat. “Be nice to you.”

Of course. Well, that certainly made so much more sense. My brain was running wild tonight with far too many assumptions.

“I told her I already promised you I would be,” he added.

No wonder he was being especially nice. Not only had I asked him, but he knew I’d report back to Gemma if he was an ass. I supposed I had her to thank for the sweet, protective version of Julian that was my date tonight.

I’d miss him.

We were dancing very noncommittally. It was one of those awkward songs that lacked a good beat to dance to. Not fast, not slow. Julian and I shuffled from side to side. He likely wished he could be back chatting with Grayson and Nessa, but he didn’t say anything.

“Have you ever actually broken someone’s fingers?” I cocked my head to the side, asking the first question that popped into my head. It was swimming a little bit, my head. Those shots were finally doing something.

Julian looked away, biting down on his lower lip like he had a confession he didn’t know if he should share.

I sucked in with surprise. “You have, haven’t you?”

He shrugged. “He deserved it.”

“Who was it?”

I was suddenly absolutely sure that I’d never wanted to know anything more than this information about Julian Briggs.

Julian’s gaze swooped down to mine, intense. “Greg Kennedy. Luckily, we were at football practice in high school, so it was easy to pass it off as an accident.”

“What?” I gasped. “But…why?”

Julian’s feelings about Greg Kennedy were far from a secret, but breaking bones?

Another shrug. “Don’t like the guy.”

“Not liking someone isn’t a good enough reason to break their fingers, Julian.” A questionable statement at times, but usually, it held true. “I mean, you don’t like me, but—”

“He cheated on you.”

I stopped moving, my hands falling to my sides as I stared blankly at Julian. His jaw ticked, irritation threading through his tense features. He plucked my arms back up and threw them one after another around his neck again. Then he grabbed my hips, tugging them tighter to his.

“And I do like you, Daisy,” he breathed, dipping his head to press it against mine. “Stop telling me how I feel.”

It took everything in me not to ask him more.

But all my thoughts and wonderings flew out the window when the song changed. With a racing beat that matched my pulse, it was the type of song meant for dancing. Julian’s hips picked up on the switch in tempo, and suddenly, they were grinding against mine.

The feeling of his body made it hard to think, much less talk. We danced wordlessly. Julian’s fingers dug into my hips, urging them to move with his. Heat seeped through my dress, warming my skin. Warming all of me. Julian’s hot, short breaths hit the side of my neck, urging on the flames licking my insides.

His last words rang in my head. I do like you, Daisy.

They repeatedly rang until I knew I needed to do something about them. I pushed myself up the front of Julian’s body, my lips finding his ear.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I breathed. “But I like you, too.”

Julian made a noise in the back of his throat, and I felt it everywhere. It reverberated into my body, making my skin tingle. I could become addicted to that sound, to that feeling. I slid back down until my feet were flat again, and Julian crushed us closer together. He extinguished the space between us in such a desperate, raw way that my breath vanished, and I suffocated on my sudden need for him.

Our bodies rocked, Julian’s hands started to roam, and the ache—

“We should take a break,” Julian gasped, taking an abrupt step back.

“I don’t want to.”

I should be ashamed of how quickly those words flew from my lips, but this dance was intoxicating, and I wasn’t done getting drunk. I wanted to stay right here in this bubble, with Julian’s hands all over me, forever. I wanted my breaths to keep matching his. I wanted to feel his pulse against my temple, racing beneath his skin. I wanted this—this right here.

“Juniper, you need water,” Julian said, more demanding this time. He let go of me, and I relented as he started pulling me off the dance floor. I followed behind him, admiring how sweat had gathered at the base of his neck, causing that auburn hair to curl. I wanted to wrap it around my fingers.

“Wait here,” he said, sticking me in a seat next to Grayson before stalking off.

I slunk back in my chair before spotting the remaining shots that Nessa had grabbed earlier. The alcohol had nothing to do with my high right now, but it certainly hadn’t hurt. And, hating to see them go to waste, I tipped one back.

My face immediately contorted at the rush of alcohol.

“Did you just—” Julian’s familiar voice lapsed into a growl as he pushed the remaining shot glass out of my reach and pushed an overflowing cup of water into my hand instead. “Drink, Juniper.”

“I was drinking,” I mumbled before gulping greedily. Admittedly, the water tasted a whole lot better than the whiskey had.

“Water,” he clarified. “You’ve had more than enough alcohol.”

Julian punctuated his statement by glaring at Grayson, who threw his hands up in defense.

“She was too quick about it,” he said, looking apologetic.

I lifted a brow, staring at the fuzzy NFL player sitting next to me. “Aren’t you supposed to have good reflexes or something?”

Nessa howled with laughter, which made me smile.

I liked her.

Julian shook his head, his lips curving up as he leaned down next to Grayson, pulling him into a hushed conversation I couldn’t make out. A few seconds later, he sat in the available seat beside me, scooting close so he could speak in hushed tones.

“If you would feel more comfortable, you could stay with Nessa tonight,” he said. “Their room is just down the hall from ours. Grayson and I could share.”

I frowned. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Julian Briggs? Tired of having me around?”

Honestly, I was surprised it took this long. But now I wondered if I should have grabbed that last shot just so I could dull the pain.

His eyes widened with alarm, more than I would have expected. “Juni, no. It’s just—” He sighed raggedly, looking away while running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted you to have the option.”

“Why?”

He lowered his gaze, peering at me beneath feathery lashes before saying my name. Just my name.

“Juniper…”

The unspoken words that should have followed told me all I needed to know. He thought that whatever had just happened on the dance floor was dangerous. But I’d already told him; he always kept me safe. Tonight would be no different.

“I want to stay with you,” I whispered, “if you’re not sick of me.”

His eyes fluttered shut momentarily as though my words had tortured him. When he looked at me again, his gaze was bright.

“I’m not,” he said firmly.

I wasn’t sure if I believed him, but I wasn’t sure how much I cared. He was too hard to figure out tonight. And I was still too focused on his eyes. How were they so blue even when the lighting was so low?

“Juni,” he prompted when I continued to stare silently at him.

“You have pretty eyes,” I said beneath my breath—like it was a secret.

It sort of was.

“Jesus Christ,” Julian cursed as I swayed a little in my chair, trying to put my drained cup on the table. He put a hand out to steady me.

“Come on,” he muttered. “You, bed. Now.”

I suppressed a grin, thinking I didn’t hate hearing those words come out of Julian’s mouth.

God, what was wrong with me?

This entire situation should be mortifying. It was mortifying last night. Well, in the beginning, maybe. Then, it was nice. It had been nice like Julian had been nice, and now I was having a hard time trying to be upset that there was only one bed in a hotel room that I needed to share with Julian Briggs. In fact, my body ached pleasantly at the thought of it.

After saying quick goodbyes to Grayson and Nessa, Julian led me by the hand out to the hotel lobby and up to our floor. When he pushed open the door to our room, I shivered. There was a draft.

Or something.

“Sit,” Julian commanded, pointing to the bed.

I sat.

And then I watched as Julian shrugged off his tux jacket and tossed it on top of the dresser. Without it, his muscles tensed through his white dress shirt as he knelt before me.

I held my breath, not releasing it until Julian picked up my foot. His fingertips brushed lightly over my bare ankle as he unbuckled my heel and slipped it off. When he moved to take off the other shoe, I snuck my phone out and took a picture.

“What are you doing?” Julian muttered without taking his attention away from my foot. His fingers seemed to move higher this time, up the back of my calf and down again.

“Photographic evidence,” I said, trying not to focus too much on how heat consumed me with each of Julian’s touches.

“Photographic evidence?” he repeated.

“For Gemma when she asks if you were nice to me this weekend.”

Julian sighed as he stood and pulled me up with him. “Don’t take a picture of the next part, Daisy.”

Something about how he said it, about how his voice washed over me, made my breath hitch.

“Why not?”

“Because my sister doesn’t need to see a picture of me taking your clothes off,” he grunted.

My heart leaped into my throat, my mouth running dry. But it only lasted a second before Julian added, “Now, turn around so I can unzip that dress and get you into those ridiculous matching striped pajamas of yours.”

“My pajamas are adorable, thank you very much,” I said breathily, twisting so Julian could unzip me. I felt his fingers fumble a little with the eye hook at the top of my dress before the fabric around my bodice started to give way, loosening.

“You’re right,” Julian said, voice husky.

I held on to the front of my dress to keep it from falling while carefully spinning to face him again. Julian’s taut expression took me in slowly before he took one step back and then another, his back hitting the wall with a thump. He rolled up his shirtsleeves, eyes surveying me from top to bottom while he did.

It hit me that this was probably the last time I would experience Julian looking at me like that. Taking off my shoes and unzipping my dress would be his last little acts of kindness before returning to the real world where we didn’t exist like this.

“I’m not ready.”

It took me a second to realize I had said it aloud.

Julian’s brows furrowed.

“Ready?”

I tried to take a step forward, but I stumbled over my feet, and Julian caught me in his arms. God, why did it have to be so nice being in these arms? Why couldn’t it have been unbearable so I wouldn’t have to miss it? It would be easier if I could continue to hate him in peace, wouldn’t it?

Blinking up at Julian, I gave my truest confession. “I’m not ready for it to be over.”

He swallowed, his throat working as his eyes danced all over my face. But he didn’t speak.

“Can we stay like this until morning?” I whispered, my tongue too loose to hold it in. I didn’t want the bubble to pop yet. I liked it too much. All the little fake moments were so much better than the real ones.

Julian tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and then trailed his finger beneath my chin, tipping it up.

“Sure, baby,” he rasped. His gaze dropped to my mouth and then back to my eyes, burning me up inside. “We can stay like this as long as you want. Whatever you want.”

Thank God.

I pushed myself onto my tiptoes and did what I’d wanted to do all night, every time he looked at me like he was looking at me now. I did the thing that people who were dating did. And even if it was fake, even if it was our last minutes of pretending, I wanted to spend them feeling something.

I wanted to spend them kissing Julian Briggs.