Alive At Night (Wildflower Series Book 1)

JULIAN NOT KEEPING HIS hands off me was the last problem I expected to have tonight.

After I felt his fingers grip my hip for the third time, I glared at him over my shoulder.

“What is your problem?”

“Would you—” He pushed me to the side. “Would you look where you’re fucking going?”

A whoosh of air going by my ear and the cough of a nearby person explained it. I’d been about to run into someone. Again.

“You distracted me with your grabby hands,” I accused, swatting him away.

He let go of me but moved closer as we maneuvered through the crowds entering the stadium. When he spoke, his voice was grumbly and gruff. Warm breath brushed the shell of my ear. “I grabbed you because you were walking straight into the oncoming traffic of people. Again.”

He was being overdramatic, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Did I clip someone’s shoulder while crossing the street to the stadium? Maybe. Did they give me the finger while yelling a derogatory word that I refused to repeat in my head? Yes, that might have happened.

But as a small-town girl who’d only left her home zip code for a bank-draining education, I’d never been to a stadium of this magnitude. The size of it distracted me, looming even larger as we approached.

Julian’s heavy sigh startled me back into awareness. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were such a hazard to take into public?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that professional football spectators were such a hazard?” I shot back at him. “I might have bumped into him a little, but that man was—”

“He was an ass,” Julian growled in my ear, his fingers squeezing my hip again as he directed me through the stadium traffic.

Finally, something we agreed on.

Julian seemed eager to find our seats, and I noticed the appreciation in his eyes when he realized how good they were. I wasn’t sure if these tickets would be worth ruining my monthly budget, but the entire point of coming tonight was to sit close to the players and the field.

“How much do I owe you for the tickets, Rosie?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Julian’s displeasure with my response was evident. That starry-eyed look he’d showcased a minute ago vanished as he looked down at me. “Part of our deal was that—”

“I don’t remember what I paid for them off the top of my head,” I said, which was technically the truth. I couldn’t remember the exact amount, not down to the very dollar. “But they weren’t that expensive. I’ll let you know.”

“You’re lying.”

Okay, yeah, the second part was definitely a lie.

I didn’t know why I was trying to let Julian off the hook for the tickets. God knows I could use the money, but part of me felt bad for dragging him here last minute when I knew he wasn’t precisely a last-minute person. Besides, relying on him to help me talk to Noah made my stomach churn unpleasantly. I shouldn’t need his help, but here I was anyway. And refusing his money somehow made me feel better.

“I don’t know why you want to pay so badly.”

“It’s weird having you pay for me to come see my friends play.” He wrinkled his nose, eyes moving to scan the field. “And it won’t cost money to uphold the other side of our bargain.”

That was the thing about Julian. While I’d been pegged for law school because of my sharp tongue and determined spirit, Julian had always held a firm philosophy of fairness. Justice. Not that I didn’t believe in those things, too, but sometimes it seemed the people we grew up with thought Julian had gone into law for all the right reasons while I’d pursued it for all the wrong ones.

My passion for my career had nothing to do with my aptitude for arguing. Even if it did give me a little adrenaline rush from time to time.

“Let’s just enjoy the game,” I encouraged, turning back toward the field.

“Do you think you will?” Apparent curiosity lingered in Julian’s voice.

“What?”

“Enjoy the game?”

“Of course I will.”

Julian glanced sharply down at me. “What do you mean, of course? I’ve never once seen you interested in football before today.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, slight irritation coursing through my veins. “I went to every single one of your games in high school, didn’t I?”

His brows furrowed. “You did?”

“You might not remember me, but I was that girl who sat with your family in the crowd and tried to blend in with all the redheads.”

“I—” He opened his mouth, shut it again, and frowned. “I knew you came to some of them. But I didn’t know you went to all of them. Pretty sure you called me an empty-headed jock on at least one occasion. I took that to mean you weren’t exactly a fan of the game.”

“Oh, I’m not.”

Julian rolled his eyes and muttered something that undoubtedly wasn’t in my favor beneath his breath.

“I don’t like the game itself very much,” I explained, “but I do like going to them.”

“God, you are so confusing sometimes,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead like he was about to get a tension headache.

“I mean that I like their energy. The atmosphere is fun. I loved those fall Friday nights at high school games. It’s that camaraderie part, ya know?”

Julian dropped his hand, his face clearing a bit. There was a slight pause. “Yeah…I do, actually.”

With that second unusual agreement, Julian turned his attention back toward the field, likely looking for Noah. When he spotted him, he nudged me—as if I wasn’t already paying attention to exactly what he was doing.

“Right there.” He pointed to a lean, golden-brown-haired player wearing a number nine jersey, similar to the one I had on.

I nodded, squinting to make him out as Julian returned to surveying the field like he was a coach taking stock of the situation. He put his hands on his hips, twisting to glance down to the opposite end zone, and I was left looking at his back.

“You’re wearing an LA jersey.” The gold lettering on his jersey spelled EVERETT, and a bell rang in my head. “Is that your other former teammate?”

“Yeah, you just noticed?” He spun back toward me, exasperation painted on his expression. “Keep up, Lily.”

I bit down on my tongue to try to keep from snapping back—he’d already called me out for being obstinate once today. “I really try not to look at you as much as possible, Julian.”

Guess I didn’t bite down on my tongue hard enough. But if we were keeping score, I’d give myself a little point for that one.

“Oh, yeah?”

He said it like it was a challenge.

Luckily, it was an easy one. “Yeah.”

“It must be hard if you have to put so much effort into it,” he said with a smirk.

My cheeks flamed in response, which was so startling that I eagerly sought an escape.

“You know what? I think I’m going to go get some food.”

Julian straightened, his demeanor immediately shifting. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I shot him a glare over my shoulder as I began to retreat back down the row of seats. “That would defeat the purpose of why I’m leaving.”

His dramatic sigh cut through the crowd’s chatter before he called after me. “Just watch where you’re going for once, will ya?”

“Believe it or not, I can survive in public without you,” I shot back.

“Fine.” I saw him throw his hands up from the corner of my eye. “Prove it.”

I did prove it. I got a little turned around on my way back from the concession stand and lost some popcorn while descending the stairs, but I survived.

Julian had his hands on top of his head while intently staring at the field when I reached him, and I saw an odd bit of relief when he glanced over to find me in my seat again. He’d likely been worried he might have to tell Gemma he lost me at the game.

“You’re back.” His relief morphed into judgment. “All you got was popcorn?”

“For some reason, I just had this feeling you would judge my food choices, so I went with popcorn. Absolutely no one can hate on popcorn.” I scowled. “Except you, apparently.”

“I’m not hating on popcorn, and I don’t give a shit about what you eat.” He grabbed a few kernels from the top of my tub and tossed them in his mouth. “But unless I missed it, you didn’t have lunch today. And I don’t want you passing out on me before I can watch Everett score.”

That reasoning tracked. “True, I would hate to inconvenience you.”

“Since when?” He snorted. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

“You’re enjoying yourself,” I pointed out.

Because it was true. He had a brightness in his eyes that reminded me of the energy I used to see when I went to his games in high school. It was like someone had cranked a hidden dial, and now he was in sport mode, his eyes critical as he watched the movements around us. The first quarter began, and our conversation came second to the game. He didn’t even bother to refute my point. A youthful smile wormed onto his face instead.

That was fine with me, though. I wanted Julian to have a good time. If he enjoyed himself tonight, there would be less for him to complain about tomorrow.

The minutes ticked by surprisingly fast. Julian’s attention stayed glued to the field with the exception of halftime; he used that small window of opportunity to sprint to the bathroom and load up on food, which he insisted on sharing with me. And since it was true that I hadn’t carved out a good lunch schedule at work, I stole a few of his french fries during the second half of the game.

“Okay, follow me.”

After the final seconds disappeared on the scoreboard, Julian ushered me down the few steps toward the sidelines. We zigzagged around departing fans as we made our way to the corner of the field, spotting where athletes took off for the locker rooms. And then, like a beacon of sweat, muscles, and tight, shiny pants, there he was. Noah London.

I’d definitely kept my eye on him during the game. Even though my football knowledge was limited to high school games and the things my dad shouted at the TV screen, I knew Noah’s performance was impressive. And now, seeing him up close was overwhelming.

Suddenly nervous, I took a step in the opposite direction—backward.

What was I thinking? Noah London probably got asked on dates every hour of every day. Why did I think that he would ever go on a date with me? Even if it was fake.

Noah was only a few steps away from us when Julian noticed my retreat. His brows furrowed as he jerked his head toward the railing, mouthing for me to get my ass over there.

“This was a bad idea,” I hissed beneath my breath.

“Too late.” Julian grabbed my hand, pulling me to stand beside him. He locked his arm behind my back, gripping the railing on the opposite side of me. “This is your chance, Daisy. We’re not doing this again.”

Stuck with no hopes of escaping, I began fidgeting with my hair.

“Juniper.”

Julian’s sharp voice caught my attention. His eyes were piercingly blue beneath the stadium lights as they roamed my face. We were so close that I could count his strawberry blonde eyelashes if I wanted to. I hoped he couldn’t feel my heart pounding. More importantly, I hoped he didn’t dare think it was because of him.

“Yeah?” I asked, my breathing shallow.

“Stop acting un-Juni-like,” he muttered. “I don’t like it.”

“Un-Juni-like?”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “You know.”

I did know. Only Julian didn’t realize that this was me. This nervous, sweaty-palmed girl was me most days; I just never let him see it. He was used to a different Juni. But he was right about one thing. If I could turn my confidence on at work, I could do it here, too.

Noah waved a security guard away with the assurance that we were welcome and greeted Julian heartily. They shared a slightly awkward handshake, considering our position above him, and I plastered on a smile. But before I could say anything, another ridiculously hot football player jogged over to join us.

“Looking good out there, Gray,” Julian called as the brown-haired, sharp-jawed man stopped beside Noah.

He smiled broadly, and when Julian and Noah returned it, I felt sweat tickle my brow. The fall weather had been warm today, but not this warm. Not warm enough for me to become this much of a mess.

There were too many handsome guys in too small of a space, and my nerves weren’t sure they could handle it. I probably would have snuck away if it weren’t for Julian’s strong arm behind my back, locking me in at his side.

“Why didn’t you mention you were coming yesterday?” Grayson asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Last-minute plans,” Julian said. “Juniper and I work together now, and she had an extra ticket.”

And then, looking like he was truly pained to do it, Julian opened the conversation up to me.

“Daisy, this is Grayson Everett and Noah London.” He pointed out each player as if they didn’t have their names embroidered on their jerseys. Or on ours. “They were my teammates and roommates, so you might remember meeting them when you and Gemma visited California.”

“The names certainly ring a bell,” I said with a smile and a wave over the railing, trying to look more enthused about this awkward meet and greet than I felt.

“Yeah, the looks might not, though,” Noah said with a chuckle. “I’ve definitely put on a few pounds since college.”

Making jokes about gaining weight wasn’t what I’d expected from a professional athlete, but honestly, it put me a little more at ease. I could relate. Post-college me had a different body shape than college me.

“Same.”

Noah waved off my admission and drew back, looking me up and down in an obvious, over-the-top way. “Jersey looks damn good. That yours, Briggs?”

Oh, so he was a flirt. And was I misreading the silent communication between the two guys, or was Noah asking if I was Julian’s?

Because I certainly was not.

“The jersey,” Julian said tightly. He shifted on his feet before dropping the arm that had been around me. “The jersey’s mine, yeah.”

Noah raised a brow, and he grinned cheekily. “Well, it looks better on her than you anyway.”

Julian’s eyes rolled, but he was back to wearing that silly, goofy grin of his again—the one I couldn’t ever really remember seeing. “Nah, I just think I look better in an Everett jersey.”

“That’s what we like to see,” Grayson laughed before clapping Noah on the back and complimenting him on the game—which Noah and his team had won. My heart warmed as I watched the exchange, and I wondered if maybe Cameron had been right when he said his sister had found good people in California.

“How ya feeling, Gray?”

Julian leaned on the railing, pinning his friend with a meaningful look. The tone of the conversation shifted, and I wondered what context I was missing.

“Good.” Grayson nodded, putting his helmet beneath his arm with a sigh. “Ready to be back home, though.”

“I’m sure Nessa’s ready to get you home, too,” Noah said, elbowing his friend and opponent.

A heated grin split Grayson’s face, and I quickly concluded that Nessa—whoever she was—was a lucky lady.

We parted ways soon after that, which was fine with me. I knew we wouldn’t be able to talk to Noah for very long, but I was hoping that even that quick introduction would help me when I mustered the courage to slide into his inbox. Now maybe it wouldn’t seem so out of the blue to message him.

Julian was quiet on the ride home, but I didn’t have it in me to analyze his silence. I’d prepared myself for a few snarky comments to punctuate our evening, but they never came. Instead, I was left with my thoughts, contemplating exactly what my next move would be where Noah and the wedding were involved.

“What’s your address?” he asked when the glowing lights of the city grew closer.

“I’ll just walk home from your place,” I said with a yawn. “It’s not far.”

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

“So, you’re not going to walk home.” He readjusted his hand on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. “Tell me your address, Juni.”

“632 Oliver Street,” I recited.

But only because he called me Juni, and it wasn’t even the first time tonight.

Julian nodded, flicking his blinker on in preparation for the upcoming exit.

A few minutes later, we parked in front of my apartment building. “There she is,” I said with a sigh, pointing to the balcony above us on the second floor. “Home sweet home.”

Julian ducked his head to look out the passenger window, following my finger toward my dark apartment. When I thanked him for the ride, he turned his attention from the building to me. It was hard to make out his expression in the dark, but mostly he looked…tired. My lips parted as I sat on the verge of saying something more, but he stopped me.

“Good night, Daisy,” he muttered.

Sensing he wanted to get home, I quit lingering and jumped from the car. I assumed he’d drive off right away, but he didn’t. It wasn’t until I made it into my apartment, turned on the light, and walked past the window that I noticed him drive away.