BE MINE

February 14th

The screen on my phone lights up revealing only my background image, and my grip tightens around it. Groaning, I slam it down on my couch before hopping to my feet and pacing the floor, needing to find a way to relieve some of this nervous energy.

Julianna should be back by now. I’m trying to give her space, but we haven’t had a real conversation since she walked out after our kiss. I’ve called her several times, but she has ignored all of them. Friday evening, I opted to send her a text begging her to at least let me know she made it safe. She responded with two words: Here. Safe.

After that, I was sure I fucked things up, but then I got another text from her last night saying we needed to talk when she got back today and she’d let me know when she was back. I’ve been a mess all day, waiting and watching for her call. Since I overplayed my hand with that kiss, that’s all I can do.

My heart slams against my chest as my phone begins to ring, and I stumble all over the place rushing back over to it. Snatching it up, I answer without even looking to see who it is.

“Jules?”

“She still hasn’t called yet, huh?”

“What the hell do you want, Red?” I growl, running a hand through my hair.

On Friday, when I was on the verge of losing my mind, I broke down and told her everything. My confession started with my schoolboy crush turned obsession, then our disastrous friendship and my broken heart. By the time I got to our kiss, she was squealing with excitement. I seriously need more male friends.

“Hey, you’re not the only one anxiously awaiting her return. This ‘will they, won’t they’ drama has me on the edge of my seat.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, shouldn’t you be busy getting wooed by some guy?”

“Screw Valentine’s Day. It’s a stupid holiday made up by corporations who profit off women’s insecurities,” she spits out.

Roxy is beautiful, smart, and funny—the full package. Every guy who crosses her path takes notice of her, except the one she wants: my idiotic baby brother.

“Well, I won’t disagree with you there. You deserve someone who will show you they love and appreciate you every day of the year. Now, don’t call me again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She huffs in protest as I disconnect the call then collapse on the couch. Laying my head back, I stare at the ceiling, playing the different scenarios of what Jules is planning to say out in my mind. Things could go either way, and I need to prepare myself. I know she enjoyed kissing me as much I did her, but it doesn’t change the fact that she ran and has been avoiding me since then.

It’s clear she’s dealing with some demons, though she’d never admit it—ones that go much deeper than getting a divorce. The fear in her eyes that night at the bar and the terror in her screams as she was dreaming still haunt me.

I’m suspended between wakefulness and sleep when there’s a knock on my door. Startled, I sit up with a jerk and blink away the spots in my eyes as I try to process what’s happening. There’s a second knock—louder and more urgent. I scramble to my feet then toward the door.

“Red, I swear to God,” I grumble as I open it. Only…it’s not Roxy standing on the other side. “Jules?”

“Hi.” Her voice cracks and she gives me a nervous smile before clearing her throat. “I brought pizza, beer, and a movie.” My eyes travel over the items in her hands, while the rest of me remains still and silent. Am I dreaming? “I should have called. Do you have plans? I’ll just go.”

She turns to leave, snapping me out of my catatonic state, and I grab the beer from her hand.

“Don’t you dare.” I smirk as she looks at me in surprise. “I’m starving. Get your butt in here.”

A smile lights up her face as I step back and wave her in. She’s quiet and visibly tense once we’re inside, her eyes combing over my apartment as she follows me to the kitchen.

“This is a pleasant surprise. I’d only been expecting a phone call,” I tell her, placing the beer in the fridge before grabbing one for each of us.

Nodding, she lays the pizza on the counter and her bag next to it before locking her eyes on me. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”

My pulse races as I twist the top off her bottle and hand it to her, then do the same with mine. “I agree. Did you want to talk now or…? We could sit. Did you want to sit?”

She chuckles and bites her bottom lip as she puts her beer down. Glancing away, she takes a cautious step toward me, then another, closing the distance between us. My heart stutters when she looks back up at me through hooded eyes, my body twitching with need to touch her. Her eyes fall again as she launches herself forward and wraps her arms around me.

Placing my beer next to hers, I return her embrace and kiss the top of her head. “This is my kind of conversation right here,” I joke. Her body vibrates as she laughs, sending a wave of warmth through me.

She leans back, a soft smile on her lips as she searches my face. “You fell in love with me in high school.”

Her words come out as a statement instead of a question, and I wonder what finally made her come to that conclusion.

“No,” I answer, smirking as confusion and embarrassment cross her features. “Fifth grade. I’ve been in love with you since fifth grade. I remember the exact moment. You were wearing that blue Adidas shirt with the matching shorts and those black Adidas shoes. Mrs. Tillman had just reassigned seats, and you ended up sitting next to me. When a shy smile crossed your face and those brilliant blue eyes locked on mine as you said, ‘Hi,’ I was done for.”

Her forehead creases. “But you didn’t even speak to me until high school.”

“You terrified me,” I admit, chuckling. “It took time to build up the nerve to talk to you and even longer to tell you how I feel—which I probably wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t disclosed your feelings to me first.”

Her cheeks redden and she looks away, taking a deep breath before meeting my gaze again. “No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. You make me feel safe, whole, and happy. I think you deserve someone better than me, and I can’t promise you I won’t royally screw this up, but I do want this. I want you. It’s always been you. I need to take it slow, though. Okay?”

My lips curl as I begin to bob my head enthusiastically, tightening my hold on her to keep from fist pumping the air. It’s more than okay—it’s freaking fantastic. I’d do about anything for the chance to be with her. I’m getting off easy with her request.

“I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where you said you want me?” She swats at my back and smiles. “It took me five years to talk to you and almost twenty to tell you how I feel, I’m like the king of taking things slow.”

“Good point,” she quips, squeezing me.

“So, what movie are we watching?”

“Hackers.”

My lips curl as my mind wanders to the first time we watched that movie together, and her eyes light up with mischief telling me she’s thinking about that day too.

“The last time we watched this together, I wanted to kiss you so badly, I spent most of the movie focusing on you instead of it. It was the best kind of torture.”

Grinning, she presses her body into mine.

“Well, if you get that urge again tonight, don’t hold back on my account.”

Pride swells in my chest as she tilts her head and licks her lips, almost begging me to kiss her again. Leaning in, I bring my mouth as close to hers as possible without connecting. The heat from her quickening breaths brushes across my lips as I inhale her floral scent, nearly losing my resolve.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I breathe, rubbing my nose against hers before releasing my hold on her and quickly stepping away.

She gapes at me with wide eyes as I pick my beer up from the counter and take a swig, feigning total composure. Taking things slow could be fun. They say delayed gratification is the best kind, right?