Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I’m serious, Jules.”
“So am I. You came all the way here to fact-check my love life when this could have been an email?”
My brother rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his broad chest defensively, bracing for an argument. “How much do you know about him?”
“Enough.”
“Like what?”
Like… Aaron is quiet and reserved, but observant and giving when he wants to be. When no one is watching is when he’s at his best.
I lift my chin. “I know he’s your friend. I know he works hard. I know he’s not whatever villain you’re trying to paint him as.”
Declan’s jaw ticks. “I’m not painting him as anything.”
“You’re interrogating me again.”
“I’m asking questions.”
“It feels like a cross-examination.”
He exhales sharply through his nose, gaze narrowing. “You barely know him.”
“Why do you suddenly care? I don’t judge the women you date.”
“Because you don’t know any of the women I date.”
Touché.
I am well aware.
My brother shares almost nothing about his dating life—if he even has one. I’ve seen the photos online, though. The red-carpet appearances. The influencers. My family learns about his relationships the same way the rest of the world does—through filtered posts and gossip columns.
“Why are you ambushing me at a coffee shop like I’ve wandered into a dirty dark alley with a stranger—instead of going on a few dates with your friend?”
Declan’s jaw clenches. “Please stop referring to Aaron Bishop as my friend.”
I blink back the surprise at his sharp tone.
“Okay, jeez. Your teammate.” I worry my bottom lip, the wheels in my brain spinning, rationalizing all the reasons Declan sounds so bitter and drawing a blank. “Did he do something to you?”
My brother hesitates. Unfolds his arms. “No.”
“Did… you do something to him?”
He hesitates again, silence stretching between us. “Jules, don’t be ridiculous.”
That’s not a no.
My fingers find the straw in my latte and fiddle with it. “Then why are you being weird? You came all this way to harass me about Aaron, who is not your friend, who did nothing to you, and whom you did nothing to.” I clear my throat. “Please, make this make sense.”
I am not caffeinated enough for this conversation.
My mind flashes back to Aaron last night. The way his voice had gotten all gruff when we talked about Declan. The careful way he’d asked questions about our relationship. The long pause before he said, Would he do anything for you?
Pieces of something drift through my thoughts like puzzle fragments but it’s too early in the day for any of them to connect.
“Why can’t you stay away from him, huh?” My brother’s frustration colors his face. The blushing is something we both have in common. “There are a million dudes you can date. I can help you find someone new.”
Ha!
As if I would let him.
As if I weren’t capable of swiping on a dating app, which does not interest me. Not when I have the one thing I want in front of me and… Lord forgive me for seeking out hockey players.
I laugh, picking up my cup and drinking through the straw. “Do you realize the last guy I dated spoke over me? Was a sexist, didn’t think I had earned my job. Barely touched me.”
Declan frowns. “Then why were you with him?”
“Because I thought that’s what I was supposed to want!” I shoot back. “Polished. Predictable. Safe in the most boring possible way, and Aaron doesn’t do that,” I continue. “He doesn’t compete with me. He doesn’t make me feel small and insignificant.”
Declan’s jaw tightens.
“And before you have something to say about it,” I add, leaning forward, “no, he doesn’t intimidate me. He doesn’t pressure me. He doesn’t make me feel like I owe him anything.”
So there.
“I mean, it may be way too soon to tell, but I feel like a strong, independent woman when I’m with him.” Not to mention I feel seen, sexy, and desired.
How can my brother argue against that?
“Are you sure he likes you for you? And not because of whose sister you are?”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
For a second, I genuinely don’t understand what he’s implying.
But then it hits me.
My stomach drops.
“What are you saying?” I have to force the words from my throat. “That I’m not sexy or sophisticated enough to date a man like Aaron Bishop? That I’m n-not pretty enough?”
I hate that I’m stuttering.
Hate it.
Declan’s expression changes instantly. “No. No, Jules—that’s not what I’m sayi—”
“It sure sounds like it.”
Heat rushes to my face. I look down at my latte, because I refuse to let him see my eyes sting and the tears welling there.
“You think I don’t know what kind of man he is?” I say, laying it on thick. Hoping he feels guilty as hell and backs off. “That he could walk into any bar and leave with whoever he chooses? So, why choose nerdy little Juliette Kennedy, right?”