The ice prince, as Archer affectionately refers to him. When he’s not calling him fancy pants.
I can also see how my sort-of-maybe-almost dating Julian could cause a rift with his sister, my best friend. If this goes awry, she may never forgive me. I can’t hurt him.
Not that I’d ever want to. Not really. Sure, with his moody, selfish outburst, I’d like to slap him in some old-fashioned classic movie way, but I’d never want to actually hurt him where it counts.
Thanks to some weird twist of fate, it turns out I actually like Julian too. Like a lot. Enough to not have to imagine it’s Henry Cavill on one side of that sexy sandwich. I like him so much that I miss most of the movie Amelia put on because I can’t stop thinking about just how wonderful that would be.
Rule #13: Never let them see inside your mind.
Julian
“So what do the wristbands mean?” Elizabeth asks, holdingthe dark red braided polyester cuff in her fingers.
There is an assortment of them in various colors sitting in the middle of the table. Stationed around it, the team picks one of each from the pile, inspecting them with curiosity.
“Well, that’s something we can work on,” I reply, “but here’s my proposal. Green means here to play with anyone and everyone. Yellow means specifically looking for a male. Purple means specifically looking for a female. Red means leave me the fuck alone. And this is only the start, really. We can play with various colors for various kinks. Perhaps a submissive looking for a Dom, a bunny looking for a rigger, or a couple looking for a third.”
“Fascinating,” Jack says, examining the braided rope in his hand. “They’re good quality.”
I clear my throat, standing at the front of the room. “They’re pricey, but we have a standard to uphold now. We can’t pass out paper and silicone junk. These bands should be something people are proud to wear.”
It’s Phoenix who speaks up next, her elbows on the table, a determined look on her face. “This will make the club less intimidating for our patrons. They won’t be so scared to come in if they could put a band on their wrist that says, and I quote, ‘leave me the fuck alone.’”
“Exactly.”
“This isn’t about return on investment,” she continues. “This contributes to the overall value of the club. Things like this that make it safer and more welcoming.” Phoenix is always thinking about ROI, so I’m relieved that she sees the potential instead of just the investment.
Jack is sitting proudly at the head of the table, a smirk on his face as he listens to Phoenix. And it grates on my nerves how much I appreciate his praise, how much I yearn for it. Jack is my business partner now, and I tried like hell to hate him. Ask anyone at this table, and they’ll tell you I still do.
He had a relationship with my father that I envied. He was the golden boy, the firstborn, the pride and joy of the Salacious family. I was…the runner-up.
“Yes,” he says with a smile, “these are the innovative ideas we need. Like Weston,” he says, pointing at the bartender across the table. “His brilliant idea for those glasses that can detect if any drugs have been added to a drink.” Then he looks at me with a proud grin, and I try my damnedest not to feel a bit of warmth in my chest. “This is good, Julian. I like this a lot.”
I won’t smile back. I refuse to look like a fool, folding to his praise. So with a flat, emotionless expression, I nod. The asshole doesn’t even bother to look disturbed by it.
Phoenix starts talking numbers again, discussing investments and membership fees, and I hold the red band in my fingers, spinning it slowly, and as my mind so often does lately, it returns tothem.
It’s been nearly a week since our date, and I haven’t seen either of them since the morning they woke up in my apartment.However, the group chat has stayed active. It’s obvious that the three of us are all equally intrigued by whatever this is between us. We tried calling it a friendship at first, but I think that night in the restaurant proved that’s not exactly what we are anymore, especially after Archer proceeded to nearly kiss me to death for almost an hour on my couch, a kiss I have replayed in my mind over and over and over since then.
I can’t remember the last person I kissed before Archer. Has it been months? Years? I nearly forgot how intimate it was. During our kiss, it was like the entire world disappeared, and it was just us. His lips, his mouth. I swear I could feel his fucking soul in that kiss and the way he softly moaned against my lips, his hands cradling my face, his delicate breath against my cheek.
“Hey, Jules, you still with us?”
I blink, looking up to find the entire team staring at me with confusion. “What?” I bark.
“Phoenix was just asking for a price point or a bulk cost of the wristbands,” Jack says gently.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, looking down at her phone, and Weston is wearing a very mischievous smirk as if he could read my mind and all the dirty thoughts playing inside.
“The numbers are in the proposal,” I say coldly, clicking the button on my computer to show the next slide.
“Care to indulge us on what exactly had you so distracted?” Weston asks.
I don’t even justify it with a response. Furrowing my brow, I turn away from him, but then my damn sister has to chime in.
“I know what he’s thinking about,” she says.
“Don’t you dare, Mel,” I growl.
