God, I was so confused. And tired. And sore. On top of all that, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Julian’s palm against my skin, and I hated that part of me wanted him to touch me again.
“Lift your left arm for me,” Julian commanded. I did as he said, and he pressed on my back, instantly fulfilling my desire to be touched by him again. “Does this feel okay?”
I nodded. “It’s a little sore, but not too bad.”
“Good. Nothing feels broken,” he went on, gently pulling my arm back down to my side. “You'll have a hell of a bruise tomorrow, but you won’t need a doctor. Ice and rest should do the trick. Do you happen to have an icepack in here?”
“Sort of,” I said, lifting my right arm to point toward my minifridge. “There’s a little freezer compartment at the bottom of that, and I always have a bag of Mochi Moons in it.”
“What’s a Mochi Moon?”
“They’re balls of ice-cream wrapped in mochi. They taste amazing.”
“Well, I guess that’s better than nothing,” he said, voice laced with amusement. “Once I’m gone, use the bag to ice the area for twenty minutes. It’ll help with the swelling.”
With that, he pulled my straps back up for me, and I turned back to face him, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. I knew he couldn’t possibly have missed the goosebumps peppering my skin, or the red flush creeping over the back of my neck, stretching around to my face and chest.
“How do you know so much about this stuff?” I asked in an attempt to distract him from it all.
“I had to learn some basic sports medicine stuff when I was younger,” he replied. “I was training in Muay Thai, so it’s pretty important to know how to deal with potential injuries, just in case.”
Muay Thai.That explained how he knocked Kane out with one punch and made it look like child’s play.
“That’s cool. Do you ever fight?” I asked. “Like in competitions, or just for fun at the gym?”
His eyes flashed with something unreadable. Pride, perhaps, but I really couldn’t be sure. “Yeah, something like that,” he said in a low voice, rubbing his jaw.
“Cool. Anyway, um… thanks for helping with all of this,” I murmured, because I didn't know what else to say.
“You don't have to thank me,” he replied. “I wasn’t going to stand there and watch that asshole hurt you.”
There was something else in his voice now. Something raw and honest that made my breath catch. Or was I just imaginingthat? Reading things into his words that weren't really there because I wanted so desperately to believe he was someone other than the coldhearted, ruthless bastard all my friends said he was?
Still, the way he’d said it—low, certain, protective—made something shift in me, and for a second, the fear I’d been carrying around all week loosened its grip, just enough for my curiosity to slip through.
If he actually knew anything about my sister, then now was the time to ask. This exact moment, when I could look him right in the eye and tell if he was lying.
I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of mental strength I had within me. Then I tilted my chin upward, trying to ignore my rapidly-thudding heart. “Can I ask you something?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Did you know my sister? Was she dating your brother?
The words bubbled up my throat, but they died on my lips as the same old fears flooded back.
God, what was I thinking? I couldn’t just come out and ask Julian about Calista. What if hewasinvolved in the coverup of her murder, like I’d initially suspected? What if asking the wrong questions put me in even more danger than I was already in? What if it tipped him off that I was still investigating, and he went back to the Club and told them everything?
“I think I saw you in my Business Strategy lecture the other day,” I said instead. “So I was wondering… do you remember if Professor Chang told us to read chapter four or five of the textbook before our next class?”
“Five,” he said, brows pulling into a slight frown. It was like he somehow knew I’d intended to ask something else but lost my nerve, and that disappointed him.
“Cool. Thanks.” My heart was still in my throat. “And thanks again for tonight, too.”
“No problem.” He glanced at his watch. “I should get going now. Remember the ice.”
With that, he turned and headed outside, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Then I forced myself to my feet and turned the lock, the metallic snap somehow both reassuring and isolating.
