“What are you doing here?”
Julian stood at the other side of the room, seemingly frozen by my appearance at his kitchen table on Valentine’s Day.
“I’m waiting for Gemma to get done with skating practice.”
“Where’s your date?” he asked.
“I’m sitting at your kitchen table, Julian. Figure it out.”
“Sounds like you’re here to ask me out, then, huh? Bold move, Rosie, just showing up in a man’s kitchen on Valentine’s Day.”
I rolled my eyes. “In your dreams.”
“Trust me,” he muttered. “Any dreams I have of you will not take place in my kitchen.”
“Let me guess,” I said, my top lip curling up in a bit of a sneer. “They’d take place in your car, and you’d be driving me out of town and leaving me on the edge of it. Am I right?”
“It would certainly make my life easier,” he said dryly.
“You don’t always have to be an ass, Julian,” I shot back, leaning forward across the table and meeting his gaze beat for beat.
He mimicked me, leaning my elbows on the table and lowering his voice as he stared back.
“And you don’t always have to show up in my fucking house unannounced. What if I was walking around naked?”
I felt my cheeks flushed. “Why the hell would you do that?”
He shrugged. “Because no one was home. A guy with five sisters doesn’t get freedom like that very often.”
I leaned back again. “Well, don’t let me keep you from experiencing your freedom.”
His lips twisted. “You always do, Lily. I don’t exactly expect it to change much now.”
