How the fuck did I lose her?
I try to swallow the ball of panic prying its way up the back of my throat.
Maybe she’s in the bathroom? Maybe she stepped outside for some fresh air? To take a call? To…I don’t fucking know, take a picture of the store?
My head anxiously peers around another aisle to see it empty just as the others have been.
Fuck, I’m already doing one unforgivable thing by falling for my best friend’s sister; I really don’t need to make it two.
The thought stops me in my tracks.
Falling for her?
No.
Maybe.
Definitely.
No.
Yeah…
It’s the only logical explanation for telling her something I’ve only told my bros. Something, outside of Holden, that took years to confess, and even then I think it was just a combination of weed and wine that caused me to come clean.
A combination I no longer enjoy.
That I stopped enjoying when I started to master the art of mixing my passions to please both types of appetites.
Food became my drug and each kitchen I step foot into my dealer.
Now I’ve not only shared that secret, but discovered a new addiction in the process.
Everything about Julia is incredible. The way she works. The way passion thrums throughout her whole body when she’s invested in something. The way her frame fills out and owns every piece of clothing she puts on. Her smile. Her laugh. Her hints of insecurity that appear when she blushes. I love how she isn’t afraid to push back in a conversation or disagree and more importantly, how she isn’t timid in the sack. How she’ll take charge then ten minutes later allow me to. Fuck, I even love how she lets me gently press her body against mine when she sleeps…It’s like the way a pastry chef would handle dough he knew he was going to use to make a tart for a queen. With the utmost care and attention. Even unconsciously, my mind knows how important is to treat her like the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.
Then again, has she really been given to me, or did I steal her?
I know I don’t need Pax’s blessing, but fuck, I need Pax’s blessing.
All of a sudden, Julia pops up from underneath a pile of stuffed animals to my left. “Boo!”
The unexpected action stumbles me backwards, and a hand flies over my heart. “Cheese and rice!”
Julia cocks her head to the side in confusion. “What the hell did you just say?”
Distracted by the way my heart is pounding against my palm causes me to remain silent.
Damn. When’s the last time I was ever that terrified?
“Did you say…cheese and rice?”
I clear my throat and try to regain my composure. “Yeah.”
“Are you…Are you hungry?” She lightly laughs. “’Cause we can go eat. You don’t have to bark lunch orders at me, Chef.”
Grabbing her hand, I roll my eyes at the comment. “We probably should grab lunch at this little bistro that has the best burgers in the country before we fly out.”
Julia folds her fingers with mine. “After we look around the toy store a little more.”
“Wasn’t that implied?”
She tugs me along and turns into the nearest aisle. “How long were you looking for me?”
Longer than I’m going to admit out loud.
“Just a couple minutes.”
“Liar.”
Her green eyes twinkle, and I can’t resist caving. “Fuck. Fine. Like ten minutes. But it’s a big store.”
It’s not.
It’s a hole in the wall shop I circled around four times during my hunt to find her.
She gives me a sarcastic look except this time I glance away to hold onto the tiny amount of dignity I have left. Her hand wiggles out of mine to wind up the toy on the shelf. “You know, Paxton was never good at hide and seek.”
“He’s like the size of The Incredible Hulk.”
Julia lets out a warm laugh that tips her head backwards and stirs my cock from the sight being too enthralling to look away from. “He wasn’t always this…tall?” She turns to face me. “Wide?”
“Both.”
Which is the reason Pax is intimidating as fuck to most people. He looks like something you’d hire to protect the head member of a royal family.
“He was definitely…larger than most kids his age, but I don’t know, he never let it get him down or prevent him from doing things with me. He’d play hide and go seek even though he knew I’d find him in three minutes or less…”
The nostalgic look on her face is so beautifully foreign I can’t help but push for more. “What was your favorite thing to play with him?”
She pushes her falling box frame glasses up while pondering on the question.
Yes.
Even in glasses, sweat pants, and a plain t-shirt she is still the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen. To be completely honest, I almost prefer the glasses to her contacts. Makes her look…less guarded. Less…unreachable.
“I’d have to say when he’d come to my Princess Balls.”
Mirth widens my eyes. “Cosa?”
“I was like a huge doll fan. Like, I had more dolls clothes than I did real clothes throughout most of my childhood, which may explain in a weird way how I ended up in fashion…”
“Maybe.”
“Anyway, I would put together these Balls where everyone had to get dolled up. All the dolls had to wear their best dresses, like Cinderella type of shit, and then I’d play music for us to dance to. Paxton would attend with his feet stretching out Mamma’s high heels and a crown on his misshapen head.”
“Are there pictures of that? Please, tell me there are pictures of that.”
Julia lightly laughs and nods. “Mamma has albums upon albums of us as kids. Feels the need to break them out every Christmas.”
“I know what I’m asking Santa for…”
She gives me a playful shove. “Anyway, Paxton was in charge of the food and beverages considering he could reach things in the kitchen I couldn’t. We’d drink ‘grown up juice’, which I now know was just water with a hint of food coloring and eat fancy pastries that I later learned were just Fig Newtons. Once we were all full, he’d take turns spinning them around, making sure every Princess had a chance to dance, before giving me my turn, insisting ‘you always save the best for last, Julez.’.”
“Can’t say I disagree.”
“He was my best friend…” A painful look begins to grow in her eyes. “From when I was born until the day I was forced to leave…Paxton was always there for me. Didn’t matter that he hated my taste in girly movies and boy bands or how I always got peanut butter in the jelly jar. He never cared that I lacked the coordination to play sports with him and his friends. He never pushed me away or insisted I find my own hobbies. And then when I did he never put them down or instructed me to find better ones. He had this way of always seeing me even when it felt like no one else did.”
My hands can’t stop from tugging her closer to me by the hips. “He’d still see you, Julia, if you let him.”
“It’s not the same.” She begins to slowly back up, breaking my hold. “He doesn’t see me. He still sees his kid sister he thinks he has to protect. He doesn’t wanna play or hang out or get to know Julia. He just wants the Julez that was taken from him.”
The two of us stroll around the corner in silence. In this aisle, the shelves are packed with toys in bright pink packages. Some are dolls. Some accessories. There are dress up bundles and even toy dishes.
My attention immediately lands on something I know I’ll be taking home, and I reach for it. Julia arrives at my side to peer at the object, which is when I say, “Maybe Pax just needs to remember how to play with his sister.” Our eyes connect. “Maybe you could show him. Help him. At the very least, keep giving him chances to try to reconnect…”
A sweet smile slides onto her face, yet she doesn’t agree to take my suggestion. “Planning to take this home?”
“Oh yeah.” I adjust The Hello Kitty Tea Set in my hands and return to walking down the aisle. “Hattie Pattie has to have this.”
“Agreed.”
“Think that’s everyone.”
Julia reaches for a hot pink feather boa and wraps it around her neck. “Do you do this every time you travel?”
I grab a tiara to add to her ensemble. “Play in the toy store?”
She curtseys to allow me to place the object on top of her head. “Spend your last day out of town gathering souvenirs for everyone?”
“Not always the last day. I usually collect them throughout the trip, but this time I was rather occupied.”
Julia winks proudly. “Do you always bring the kids back toys and candy?”
“Or cookies. Or cakes. Really anything sweet.”
“Is that because your parents wouldn’t let you have sugar?”
I adjust the box in my hands and return to walking, not comfortable looking her in the eyes any longer. “Yeah. And toys because, well, my parents never really bought me toys.”
“What?” We prepare to round the corner when her hand winds around my thick bicep to stop me. “What do you mean they didn’t buy you toys? Like ever?”
“Most of the toys I had growing up weren’t toys for fun. They were fitness things. Balls from basically every sport imaginable. Diving toys, again, to keep that athletic goal going. Even as I grew older the things I was given were still in that direction. A bike, but not the kick ass bike I wanted that was neon green with monster eyes on it, but a mountain bike created exclusively for kids who wanted to train like a professional.”
Her shoulders drop. “That’s so…sad…”
A shrug slips loose. “It was what it was. From the day I was born they had a plan they put in place for me. Who they wanted me to become and how they’d control me to make sure it happened. They kept money in a Trust Fund for me that I wasn’t allowed to have until I graduated with a degree in business from one the four schools they allowed. Hell, I had to put myself through a culinary program in secret the summer after high school. They thought I was vacationing with friends, which they were happy to pay for, but really, I was getting my culinary certificate. Originally, my plan was simple. Get the certificate, get in kitchens for hands on experience, and after I graduate, go to the school I wanted. Didn’t quite work out that way, but I believe that was for the best. I ended up taking random classes around the world instead. Two weeks learning to bake in Paris here. Three weeks learning how to chop sushi in Tokyo there. My seemingly stifled circumstances forced me to be creative in learning the life and culture of food. I’ve taught myself to see my parents lack of…attention to me and my wants as a blessing. Had they given me what I wanted I would’ve never learned to go after it myself. Had I not had to find a way to make it possible, I would’ve never traveled around the globe meeting some of the most amazing chefs the world has to offer.”
Julia offers me a sweet smile. “That’s a very optimistic way of viewing your circumstances.”
I shoot her one back. “Life is how we view it. Victim or victor. Your choice.”
She nods in agreement and returns to leading the way towards the final row. We’ve just reached the start of it when she asks, “Did they ever buy you one of those balls?”
My attention darts to the giant bouncy balls with handles, and a laugh creeps out. “That’d be a no…”
“Perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“Sì!” Julia quickly moves over to the basket near the wall. “What color do you want? Black? Blue?” I can hardly move my mouth to question her actions before she’s shouting. “Giallo!” She brings the neon yellow object into my vision. “Sì?”
Slightly dumbfounded, I somehow manage to ask, “For…what?”
“To take home, Chef.”
“What?”
“What do you mean what?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? What? Di cosa stai parlando?”
Her eyes give a hard roll. “I, Julia, am buying you, Wyatt, a souvenir to take home.”
The gesture grabs an unexpected grin.
“Now, let’s test these bad boys out.” She reaches over and pulls out a neon pink one. “You know, unless you’re afraid to lose to a girl.”
Her childish goading works like a charm. “Bring it, Sweet Cheeks. I will destroy you.”
She shoves the oversized ball against my chest. “Loser buys lunch.”
“I have expensive tastes.”
“I know. I’ve seen your sneakers.”
Our smiles both grow mischievous. The two of us settle ourselves on the objects side by side. Rather than note I have a slight disadvantage by having to hold the tea set tucked under my arm, I simply smirk to myself considering the idea that it probably makes the odds a bit more even. While she may be athletic in her own ways, when it comes to this type of shit, I have a natural tendency to win. Groomed coordination has its benefits. We each give our balls a couple of test bounces before agreeing that the checkout counter will be the finish line.
Julia counts loudly to three but takes off after she says two.
“Hey!” I bark bouncing behind her. “Cheater!”
“Never said I’d play fair!” She giggles during her hopping.
Sounds of the balls banging against the ground flood the small store alongside our laughter. To our surprise, the owner, who is a much older man, doesn’t scold us. Doesn’t shout about damaging his merchandise or even the typical ‘if you break it you buy it’ lecture. He happily watches as we exhaust ourselves in an attempt to reach the counter he’s standing next to. Periodically, we each have to stop to gather our breaths. Between laughing hard enough to spill out tears and the ab workout from the action, we’re both having a bit of difficulty getting to the end.
Just when I prepare to bounce past her, Julia extends her foot to give my ball a gentle push. The maneuver knocks me off balance causing me to land flat on my ass on the hard floor. She flashes me what can only be deemed as a victory smirk. I don’t allow the expression to remain. Swiftly, I return the favor, and she lands in the exact same position beside me. Our balls continue to roll away towards the counter, but it doesn’t stop us from practically howling in laughter.
She is the only souvenir I care about taking home.
I just hope once we get there she doesn’t become a memory I’m forced to put away on a shelf…