Alive at Night (Wildflower, #1)

by Amelie Rhys

thought I was sweating before, it was nothing to the stickiness on my palms once Julian began intently rolling his sleeves without breaking eye contact. To my shame, I looked away first—just for a second—to watch his fingers capably fold fabric over veiny forearms. Shit. I knew he was trying to make a point, but I hated how effectively he was doing it. “Didn’t realize you were afraid of a little bare skin, Rosie,”

exposed skin, which rippled over an annoying amount of muscles. “I’m not, Julian.” “Okay.” He cocked a brow, gesturing to his refreshed attire. “Is this better, then?”

mean…” I cleared my throat. “If you manage not to get that white shirt dirty, I’ll be impressed.”

“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Lily,” he murmured before snatching my keys from the top of my car and stalking off to pop the trunk. I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat. “Then have at it.”

I will.”

you’re going to get comfortable, so am I.”

well, maybe cold—shower tonight. “Feet hurt?” I nodded. “They’re killing me.”

“Maybe if you didn’t wear torture devices for shoes.” He scowled at my heels as if they’d personally offended him.

“How do you know it’s that one?” I asked. “Heard it when you braked earlier,” he

“Front driver side was the loudest one,” he continued as though he hadn’t just acted like a total muscleman show-off. “Although they all squealed. Hold this, will ya?”

“Have you had someone else look at this recently?”

had my brake pads replaced—” “They used cheap ones,”

“They’re not ceramic, and they should be.”

“So I should go back and request ceramic brake pads?” I asked, wanting to make sure I understood my next steps.

“I’ll take care of it so it’s done right. I can pick up the supplies from my dad’s shop when we’re home this weekend and fix it next week.” “You don’t have to—” “I’ll do it Monday,” Julian

“Now, come on. It’s getting late.”

But when I tried to straighten, shoes in hand, my entire world momentarily tipped. Careened. My scream bounced off the walls of the parking garage as a strong arm looped beneath my back and my knees, and I realized—with a fair bit of horror—that Julian was carrying me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Seems a bit obvious, doesn’t it?” “Maybe not as obvious as you’d think,”

“Julian, put me down,” I demanded when I realized I couldn’t escape on my own. “No.” “Julian.”

Ahhhh

“I saw at least two broken bottles earlier,”

“And I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get home. Which means I really need you not...

you had just told me that, I could have put my...

“Sometimes you are absolutely infuriating,”

“Sometimes?” he questioned. When he didn’t put me down even when we got to the elevator, I amended, “All the time.”

Julian and I were like magnets—always had been. We were two same-sided magnets, and the repulsion force was overwhelming. Undeniable. There were times, though, that one of us…flipped. And suddenly, there’d be a pull.

the time?” he repeated, eyes bright.

“Feeling’s mutual, Daisy.”

She nodded again, and her lack of energy, the way the corners of her lips tipped down, made me fight the urge to scoop her back up into my arms like last night. I wanted a reaction; I wanted her alive again.

“You’re taking tomorrow off, right? For the party?” I nodded slowly, feeling a surprising amount of unease settle in my gut. “See you on Saturday, then,” she said.

didn’t matter anymore. The confusion. The anger. It launched a resolution in me, and I hadn’t been able to escape it since. Fuck.

“You know.” Gemma sighed. “Figure things out.” “What’s to figure out?” I saw Gemma throw her hands up in the rearview mirror. “Why you hate each other.” “I know why I hate her.”

“What the hell is he doing here?” My mom made that familiar judgmental noise in her throat. “You need to learn to let go of grudges, honey. You hold on to them way too long.” I scowled, gritting my teeth as Greg fucking Kennedy sidled up to Juni, doing that thing where he put a hand on the wall behind her and leaned in, being a blatant flirt. “He’s an ass.”

Oh, I should have known.” “Do they still talk?” I asked while studying how Juniper tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and flashed a smile that couldn’t be genuine. Could it? When Gemma withheld an answer, I turned to see her grin. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Why do you care?”

“I don’t care how you look at me,” I said to Gemma. “I just—” “No, why do you care about Juni and Greg?”

don’t care about that either. I’m just curious. As her best friend, I’d think you’d be discouraging this. She doesn’t exactly look enthused.” I waved a hand in Juniper and Greg’s direction. “Plus, he cheated on her at least once in high school.” “Is Jules ranting about Juniper again?”

“What are you doing, Kennedy?” His lips curled as soon as he saw me, but he nodded at the cigarette in his hand. “Smoke break.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little embarrassing how you throw yourself at Juniper every time she comes home?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Fuck off, Briggs,” Kennedy snarled, flicking his cigarette ash to the ground. “Did you forget this is my house?”

“It’s none of your business.” I begged to differ. “Shit that happens at my house is, actually, my business.” “Fine,” Kennedy conceded, “but nothing else involving Juniper is.” “False.”

“Yeah.” My heart raced at the prospect of bringing him down a peg or two. “You don’t even deserve to look at her, Kennedy. Leave her the fuck alone.”

“Since when did you start admitting that you give a shit about Juniper?”

“See, you don’t care about her,” Greg scoffed when I didn’t say anything. I squared my shoulders. “Wrong.” “Since when?” he repeated, taking the bait exactly how I wanted him to. Because I never, ever passed up the opportunity to make Greg Kennedy regret cheating on Juniper. “Since I started fucking her.”

Julian stood a few feet away, a look of smug satisfaction on his face as he watched Greg walk down the driveway to his car. A slight drizzle interrupted the silence, pattering softly against the pavement until Greg drove off, and the wheels of his car squealed through the night air. The street was lit by dim streetlamps. One flickered. Just like orange string lights flickered in the garage, making it glow. I turned to Julian, and his expression fell upon seeing me. Typical.

heard something.” I surveyed my surroundings, wondering what it might have been. “I thought I’d come out to the two of you fighting.” Julian scoffed. “You think I’d waste my time fighting Kennedy?” “Then what happened?” My curiosity rose. It thrummed in my veins, powered by alcohol. “He told me he would be back.” His brows shot up. “Did you want him to come back?”

what happened?” I pressed. “He kicked that chair.” Julian pointed at a folding chair, his lips twitching with amusement. “Then he took off to buy more cigarettes or something.” “He kicked the chair? Why?”

“What did you say to Greg?” I asked, reverting the conversation again. Julian released a stream of air between his teeth. A near whistle. “It was about us.” “Us?” “You and me.” “You and me?” “Yeah.” Julian met my gaze before calmly answering. “I told him we were fucking.”

“You told Greg Kennedy that we were sleeping together?”

thank God. “I told him we were fucking.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why, Julian?” This entire scenario didn’t compute in the slightest. Julian hated me. Why he would want anyone to think we were associated even more than we already were was beyond me. “Because I wanted to piss him off,” Julian hissed, throwing his hands up. “Because it’s Greg fucking Kenn—”

“You wanted to piss him off, or you wanted to piss me off?” More likely, it was a two-in-one deal for him. “Him,” Julian said firmly. “And don’t pretend like you didn’t want to do the same. I saw your face when he was talking to you. I saw how you felt.”