3
Juliette
I stand therewith my hand in his, completely numb. I thought…was I truly imagining a connection?
A lump forms in my throat, unsure what to say. I’m humiliated.
One side of Harrison’s lips lifts, and he raises a brow, waiting for me to answer, completely unaware of my inner freakout.
Snap out of it, Jules, I think to myself.
What does it matter if he doesn’t remember? Maybe he doesn’t recognize me with my mask on.
Either way, who cares? Now’s the chance. Give him something to remember.
A few embarrassing seconds later, I shake his hand, “Hi,” I mutter and smile softly, trying to play it cool, which is the opposite of how I feel. “Jules.”
His thumb brushes along my skin. “Jules…what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
I bow my head self-consciously. “How do you know? I have a mask on.”
“True.” He chuckles in a deep rasp I instantly love the sound of. His free hand cups my chin to lift my face, his eyes boring deep into mine. “Though, I say what I mean, Jules. I don’t pass along compliments for clout.”
I never understood it when I read it in books or saw it in a movie—the connection between their eyes—now I do.
When my eyes meet Harrison’s, deep inside my stomach, an intense feeling flutters and flips in happiness. They’re mesmerizing and completely hypnotize me; for however long I know him, I hope this feeling never stops.
“Well, thank you then,” I reply.
“I’m insulted.” He bites his lip to hide a smile. “Do you not think I’m beautiful?”
I giggle, unable to hold back my grin. “Beauty to me is not only looks. Sure, you’re extremely handsome, but beauty is the whole picture, so I think I’ll have to get to know you better before making that assessment.”
“Extremely handsome?” His eyes widen. “I’ll take it.”
We laugh, and the bartender sets our drinks down. Together, we lift our hands to get them, both realizing we’re still holding on to one another.
His face drops, pulling our hands apart, staring at his for a second before picking up his drink.
What’s that look for?
Without missing a beat, he lifts his drink to cheers me, and we both take a sip, “Better?” he asks.
“Much. Thank you.” I smile again. My cheeks are going to burn out of my head soon. “So, were you listening to our whole conversation?” He looks at me confused, “Leo and me. You knew about my martini.”
“Oh.” He shakes his head, annoyed. “I walked over right then, and he only came over to you to piss me off.”
“Why would you get pissed off by your brother talking to me?”
He bends down, and it takes everything in me not to melt to the ground, “Since the second you walked through the door, you’ve captured my attention. I wanted, no needed, to talk to you. But my brother thought cutting me off at the chase would be funny.”
My heart begins to beat faster. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.” His eyes quickly glance down my body, and I don’t miss it.
I stand a little taller. “So he wasn’t flirting with me, only trying to make you jealous?”
He scoffs, “I don’t get jealous.”
