“Nick …” I swallow hard.
“Sorry, that’s probably weird?—”
“It’s not. It’s … thank you for everything. I’m sure I would’ve liked her too.”
“You would’ve both ganged up on me,” he says, laughing, but I see the sadness in his eyes.
“Guess I’ll have to go harder on you to make up for it,” I say with a wink. “Want to dance?”
“Yes,” he tells me.
We walk across the grass to the dance floor that’s set up in front of the stage. A country band called The Heartbreakers is playing, and the lead singer, London, is so damn talented. Afterward, we share a funnel cake and end the night by watching the fireworks burst over the mountain. As the festival winds down, he walks me to my condo.
“Want to come inside?” I ask as we take the sidewalk that leads to my condo.
“Is that a pickup line?” His mouth quirks upward.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just want to keep pretending this is real for a few more hours.”
He grabs my hand; the streetlight casting shadows across his face. “What if we stopped pretending?”
“Nick …”
“I know. I know we have rules. But, Jules, today didn’t?—”
“Come inside,” I say softly, not wanting anyone to overhear this conversation. “We need to talk about this. About us. About what we’re doing.”
“Yeah,” he says, following me. “We really do.”
My hands shake as I unlock the door, knowing that whatever happens next could change everything between us.
10
NICK
Ifollow Julie inside her condo. The door closes behind us with a soft click that sounds like a slam in the silence.
“Wine?” she asks, already moving toward the kitchen like she needs something to do with her hands.
“Something harder.” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
I watch her pull out a bottle of tequila, her movements nervous. The diamonds I gave her catch the light as she reaches for two shot glasses, and something primal in me roars.
“So,” she says, pouring them full, “what did you mean? About stopping the pretending?”
I take the glass she offers, our fingers brushing. That simple touch sends electricity shooting up my arm.
“Jules …” I set down the shot without drinking it. “Can we be honest with each other?”
“Aren’t we always?”
“No, we’re not.” I move closer, and she backs up until her back touches the counter. “We’ve been pretending this thing between us is just friendship. That the kissing is just for show. That I don’tthink about you constantly. That you don’t feel what I feel when we touch.”
Her breath catches. “Nick …”
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I cage her in, hands on either side of her on the counter, careful not to touch her. “Tell me you don’t feel this, and I’ll shut it off right now. I’ll pretend it’s not true.”
She meets my eyes.
