APPROXIMATELY EVERY SEVENTEEN MINUTES, I opened a blank email and stared at it for at least thirty seconds while considering requesting a new office.
About every hour, I contemplated pulling up Indeed to search for associate attorney job openings in Boston. Or, you know what, maybe it wasn’t too late to get my shot in the NFL after all. It was unlikely, but the risk might be worth it. Especially when the alternative was continuing to work with Juniper.
To be clear, working with Juniper was never the problem. On more than one occasion, she proved to be a valuable asset to our team.
No, the problem was being around Juniper. Specifically, sitting two feet away from her for the entirety of every single workday. For the love of God, breathing wasn’t even an option, not without being suffocated by the smell of flowers, both from the plants she continued to pile on her desk and from that goddamn perfume that seemed to follow me home.
I didn’t know how to look at her without remembering Sunday morning. The arousal in her eyes. The way her lips parted eagerly. Her skin. Her soft fucking skin when I kissed her neck. Shit, these were not things I was supposed to be thinking about.
But she was right here. Right next to me. How was I not supposed to think about it?
It had been so much easier in college, when she was on the opposite side of the country and I could forget her.
Spending even more time with Juniper was the last thing I’d wanted to do Monday night, but fixing her brakes was nonnegotiable in my book. I refused to let her talk me out of doing it. Or let me talk myself out of doing it. Whoever replaced her brake pads when she took it into the shop clearly didn’t know what they were doing, and while they really should fix the brakes for free, I didn’t trust them to do it right.
Much to my relief, Juniper didn’t wait around in the garage while I worked on her car like last time. However, she did bring me a sandwich and a beer around six o’clock before marching back to the elevator.
Dinner Tuesday night was on me. At precisely seven o’clock, I put a container of sushi in front of her while she looked through a pile of Gabriel’s medical documentation.
When I’d first handed over the documents, I worried Juniper would put two and two together regarding our client’s identity. But then again, it didn’t list Grayson’s name. And Elez–Everett barely made an appearance in a sea of patient this and patient that. In a way, it dehumanized the little boy with big, hazel eyes I’d come to love.
Gabriel Elez-Everett was going to be one talented little fucker. He already was, from what I’d heard about him. The musical talent, the athleticism, and the good nature in his genes were one hell of a combination.
“Eat, Violet,” I reminded Juni when she still hadn’t looked up from the notes.
Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t say anything.
She’d been uncharacteristically quiet the last day or two, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with that…thing I wasn’t going to think about.
“You don’t like sushi?” I asked, thinking I should have checked with her before ordering from the restaurant across the street. But if I’d asked her, she would have argued about who was buying dinner. Just like she didn’t ask if I wanted my sandwich last night because she knew I’d have told her not to bother.
“No, that’s not it.” She sighed, putting down the paperwork. “I love sushi. Thank you.”
I raised a brow.
Juniper noticed. Sighed again. Wrinkled her nose a second time. “It’s just…” she started. “Violet? Really?”
I chuckled, relieved dinner wasn’t the problem. “Oh, you don’t like that one?”
“I don’t like any of them.”
A forbidden smile wormed its way onto my face from her declaration, one I didn’t believe.
“Okay, Daisy.”
Juniper glanced at her sushi while biting down on her own smile.
“Did you find anything?” I asked, ignoring an odd invasive warmth.
She shook her head. “No, but I’m not giving up. We need to request more of the patient’s records between birth and the date of their proper diagnosis. While all of the records surrounding the corrective surgery indicate there will be no lasting harm to the patient, perhaps we can prove that the delayed diagnosis still caused worsening symptoms or other such damages during the years prior.”
I nodded, having thought the same thing earlier. To my knowledge, Gabriel had been presenting as a healthy child until they’d learned the truth, but maybe there was something Grayson hadn’t bothered to tell me.
“I’ll work on that.”
Satisfied with my answer, Juniper returned to scouring papers while quietly eating.
But selfishly, I wanted to keep her talking. Because, well, I wasn’t sure why. A quiet Juniper was a cause for concern, I supposed.
“Do you think the lack of proper diagnosis and its implication for their new baby, given they now have confirmation of genetic predisposition for a heart defect, could support the case?”
Juniper’s head lifted abruptly. “Their baby?”
“They learned Nes—the mom was pregnant with their second child after receiving the correct diagnosis.”
If Juniper caught my slipup, she didn’t react to it. She was too busy glaring at me for another reason. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you—” Breaking off, Juniper shook her head while rubbing her temples. “You know what, never mind. I should probably get going anyway. I have to tidy up a little bit before I have company tomorrow.”
My mood immediately soured. I hadn’t forgotten who her company was.
Even though Juniper claimed she needed to leave, she sat there for at least another minute, staring out the window. A frown seemed stuck on her face. She twisted a ring on her finger. Round and round.
“You’re doing it again,” I said finally.
“What?”
“Acting weird.”
Her lips curved. Slightly. “You mean un-Juni-like?”
“Yeah.” The word was dry. I needed a drink. “That.”
A frown swallowed her whole again, and I tried not to let my mind get ahead of myself as I wondered what prompted it. Instead, I took a stab in the dark.
“Cameron and I are planning to grab a drink after work tomorrow.” I cleared my throat, still wishing I had something to lubricate it. “Maybe just invite Noah to join us.”
I studied Juniper’s reaction, thinking I saw a hint of relief there.
“I don’t know if that would work.”
It was my turn to frown. “Why not?”
“That would mean I would also have to be invited,” she said, a bit of challenge entering her tone. There she was. That was Juni-like.
“No, you don’t.” I grinned. “You invite yourself to places all the time.”
“Cameron invited me last time,” she countered. And while she rolled her eyes, she also fought a smile. “I didn’t invite myself.”
“Whatever, Rosie.” I stood, feeling better now that the status quo had been restored. “The Bellflower Bar. Tomorrow. Five o’clock. Invite London, or I can.”
Wariness lingered in Juniper’s gaze, but she nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
My brain didn’t like imagining Noah and Juniper together. It made my gut roil in weird ways I didn’t totally understand. All I understood was the irritation bubbling inside me, caused by Juniper’s continuation of stealing away the people in my life. But I wasn’t sure if this was any better. This, right here in the bar, had to be worse. At least my imagination had left room for doubt, for the chance that maybe the sight of them together wasn’t completely sickening.
In reality, there was no room for doubt.
They were completely sickening.
Juni’s laugh was over-the-top as she tossed her head back at everything Noah said. And Jesus Christ, had she undone a few buttons on her blouse? No, that wasn’t it. Upon closer inspection, there were no buttons at all. It was the bow. Earlier at work, she had one of her ridiculous bows tied at her neckline, and only an oval-shaped glimpse of skin was exposed on her chest. Now, the ribbonlike strings on her shirt lay untied, the fabric gaping.
I didn’t like it.
It wasn’t a Juni-look. It was all…wrong.
I couldn’t even hear what they were saying. The four of us sat at the bar, Juniper on the far end and me on the other. And this was the first time in a very long time—possibly ever—that I wished the distance between us could lessen. But only so I could hear what she was saying and know for certain I had the right to be annoyed by it.
Cameron sat next to me, with Noah on the other side of him, and even he kept getting drawn into their conversation, which appeared increasingly animated and featured a lively, transformed Juni. Nothing like last night’s version of Juniper St. James.
I tossed back my beer, a light lager with not nearly enough alcohol to numb the feeling in my chest. Why the hell had I suggested this or thought it was a good idea?
“Don’t worry.” Cameron nudged me just as I was about to order another drink. “They’re not talking about you.”
“I’m not worried.”
“…besides Julian being a killjoy.”
Juniper’s voice suddenly carried across the bar, loud enough for me to make out the words.
It was almost as though she wanted me to hear her.
Cameron winced. “Okay, I take that back.”
Despite knowing better than to take Juniper’s bait, I leaned forward over the weathered, wooden bar top to glare down at her. “Excuse me?”
She smiled, but it was wicked. An invitation to spar. “I was telling Noah about the party this past weekend.”
A quick glance at Noah told me my friend was having difficulty holding his tongue.
Just like Grayson had when he met us at the Bellflower, Noah wore a hoodie and a ball cap pulled low over his face. While he hadn’t escaped notice, the attention wasn’t overwhelming, either. Not yet, anyway.
“I was the killjoy?” I glared down the bar at Juni, wondering how she figured that when she was the one who fell asleep in my goddamn bed. She’d certainly killed the joy of sleeping. And not for the first time. And not for the last, considering how little I’d slept this entire week.
“Gotta admit,” Noah cut in. “It’s hard to imagine that, knowing Jules.”
Juniper kissed her teeth. “There was a perfectly good motorcycle in the garage, and he wouldn’t even take me on a ride.”
Noah laughed heartily, cutting me a look. “My motorcycle?”
I nodded. “We were drinking. Didn’t think you’d appreciate me taking it out like that, considering all the work I put in on it.”
“You’d be right.” Noah looked back to Juniper. “Safety first, sweetheart.”
Biting my tongue, I sat back in my seat. But not before I grabbed Cameron’s drink and finished the rest of it off. This was his fault. He’d interrupted me before I could order another one and then jinxed this entire conversation.
With the alcohol drained and my self-restraint hanging on by a thread, I pushed back from the bar. Fuck this.
The pulse of the bar thumped around me as I dodged around the other patrons of the Bellflower, needing to get away. Needing to be alone. But only a few seconds after stepping into the alleyway and soaking in the crisp evening air, Cameron joined me. I walked away from him, though, not really wanting to hear anything he had to say.
He let me, staying by the door. A silent watchdog. At least until he couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Julian…” His sigh echoed between the rising brick walls. “Come on, man.”
“It was stuffy in there,” I said, my hackles rising in automatic defense.
“I don’t get you,” Cameron said, ignoring me. “If it bothers you so much, why’d you set them up?”
“It doesn’t bother me,” I grunted, knowing Cameron would see right through that lie.
“I’ve never known you to be a bullshitter, Briggs.”
Yep, that reply checked out.
When I started to shake my head—despite knowing he was right—Cameron continued.
“No, I’m serious. It’s what I’ve always liked about you. You were a genuine straight shooter in a sea of law school brats. But this?” He walked toward me slowly, giving me a once-over. “This is a lie. One that you’re selling me. And Juniper. And Noah. And most importantly, yourself.”
Shit, I forgot how intense Cameron could sometimes be. I forgot how much he’d whipped my ass into shape when I needed it in law school, and he certainly wasn’t holding back now.
“I set them up because Juniper asked me to,” I managed to say. Sticking to the facts seemed like a safe bet. “In exchange, she’s helping me with a case.”
For reasons I couldn’t fully explain, I hadn’t confessed this to Cameron yet. It was partly because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings about going to Juniper for help on the case instead of him, but I knew it was more than just that.
I didn’t want to have to explain…everything.
“Juniper needed a date for her sister’s wedding,” I added, “so I found her a date.”
Cameron stared at me for a long moment before a laugh exploded out of him. A rueful laugh. One that lacked genuine humor, perfectly fitting for this shittastic moment. “Your chance was staring you straight in the eye, and you really went and fucked it up, didn’t you?”
I swallowed, hating how he’d arranged those words and what they’d implied. “I didn’t fuck up anything besides inviting Juni even further into my life by setting her up with my goddamn friend.”
“Okay.” Cameron nodded, but the twist of his lips told me he didn’t buy a single word I’d said. “I’ll let you believe that for now.” He leaned in closer, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “But that denial will keep biting you in the ass if you don’t do something about it.”
He made it sound easy. Like the fight within me was something that could be easily tossed aside. But he didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t understand the number of years she’d made me suffer.
“It’s not too late,” he added beneath his breath, seeming to sense the battle going on in my head.
It’s not too late.
I wasn’t sure I believed that.
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to believe it.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Not in the way Cameron meant it.
The only thing that mattered was making sure I never had to hear Noah call Juniper sweetheart ever again.
