3

For one irrational second, I actually wonder if I’m drunk enough to be hallucinating him. But the closer we get, the more impossible denial becomes.

Those same dark hair strands I used to wrap around my fingers. Those same deep eyes I drowned in willingly. That same face I held between my hands like something precious. Those same lips I can still remember against mine so clearly it’s almost sickening. And that body—God. That same body that used to tangle with mine like we were built to ruin each other.


This is my Julian. And somehow, it isn’t. This Julian doesn’t have messy hair falling into his eyes from spending fourteen hours bent over a car engine. His clothes aren’t cheap anymore, stained with oil from another exhausting shift at the repair shop. And that constant, warm smile—the one that used to undo me instantly—is gone too.


This version of Julian is wearing a tailored designer suit. His dark hair is perfectly styled. His posture sharper. The smile on his face isn’t soft anymore—it’s restrained. Confident. Dangerous, even. Like he belongs here. Like he always did. How the fuck is he Randall Stone’s son?


For one suspended second, his eyes meet mine. And he double takes. I see it happen in real time—the shock hitting him just as brutally as it hit me. But unlike me, he recovers almost immediately. So smoothly nobody else around us would ever notice. Except his gaze never leaves mine. Not for a second.


“Shaun.” A woman’s voice cuts through the noise in my head, and I finally notice her standing beside him. Her arm is looped through his. And of course she’s gorgeous. The kind of flawless that doesn’t look accidental. The kind of woman who probably doesn’t get ignored in any room she walks into. Something ugly twists sharply in my chest. She lets go of Julian long enough to step forward and hug Shaun.


“You’re late,” Shaun says flatly once she pulls away. Then she slips right back against Julian’s side.


“Millie took a while.”


God. I forgot how much I missed the sound of his voice.


“Yeah, sorry,” Millie says lightly before her attention shifts toward me. Her eyes move over me slowly, assessing. Judging. I can’t tell whether she likes what she sees or not. Personally? I already fucking hate her. “And who’s this?” she asks.


Before I can answer, Shaun’s arm slides around my waist. Casual. Like we didn’t meet less than five minutes ago. Julian’s eyes immediately track the movement. Every single inch of it.


“Mine,” Shaun says smoothly. “Liana.”


Seriously? The way he says it makes it sound like this entire thing was arranged beforehand. Like I walked in here already attached to him somehow.


“Ooh, she’s pretty.” Completely oblivious to the fact that I’m internally planning her murder, she extends a hand toward me with a bright smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Millie Edwards.”


I want to snap every one of her long, delicate fingers individually. Instead, I unclench my jaw enough to force a smile and shake her hand. “Nice to meet you too.”


“Have you met Julian before?”


I don’t know why, but I decide to bury our history. “No. Can’t believe I’ve never had the honor before.” Then I turn toward Julian and extend my hand to him instead. “It’s nice finally meeting Shaun’s brother.”


Julian takes my hand slowly. And the second his skin touches mine again after all this time, something painful spreads through my entire body.


Fuck him. And fuck tonight for refusing to end. At some point, I lose track of everything after that. I don’t remember when my hand slipped from his. Don’t remember whether I excused myself or simply walked away. All I know is that now I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my own reflection like I barely recognize it.


For three years, I kept missing him. Kept carrying the absence of him around like something stitched into my ribs. And now here he is. How? How the hell is he Randall Stone’s son?


Julian was supposed to be some broke mechanic who used to laugh bitterly whenever people brought up fathers because he “didn’t even know who the fuck his was.”


I take several deep breaths, gripping the edge of the sink until the shaking inside me settles enough to function like a normal human being again. And I force myself toward the bathroom door.


But the second it swings open, I freeze. Dark eyes. Those same dark eyes that used to send my heartbeat into absolute chaos are staring directly at me.


He stops too the moment the door opens. For one suspended second, neither of us moves. Then suddenly he’s walking again. Straight toward me. Before I can say a word, his hands close around my arms and he pushes me back inside the bathroom hard enough to steal my breath. The door slams shut behind him.


But he doesn’t stop there. He keeps backing me up until my back collides with the wall behind me. His body cages mine instantly, towering in front of me, blocking out everything else.


There’s nowhere for me to move. Not that I want to. I just stand there. Trapped between his arms without fighting it for even a second. And I look at him. Greedily. Like I can somehow make up for lost years by staring hard enough.


He’s changed. There’s something more grounded in him now. More solid. His features have settled, matured—lost that last trace of boyish carelessness I remember. And unfairly, even more attractive than before. As if that should even be fucking possible.


He doesn’t speak either. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was doing the exact same thing I am—memorizing every detail of my face all over again piece by piece.


Would I look pathetic if I kissed him right now? After the way he left? Without a goodbye. Without even one final fight ugly enough for me to hate him properly afterward. Nothing. Just disappearance.


The thought barely finishes forming before I realize something else. He’s furious. Every breath leaves his nose sharply, his jaw clenched so hard I can see the tension flexing beneath his skin. His brows are drawn together deep enough to crease his forehead. “What the fuck are you doing with Shaun?” he growls through gritted teeth.


I blink at him. Seriously? No hello? No apology? Not even a single second of acknowledgment for the fact that he vanished out of my life? Straight to this? To Shaun?


And suddenly, despite everything wrecking my chest right now, something bitterly satisfying twists inside me. Because if I’m reading that expression correctly—


That’s jealousy.


“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I say quietly.


“Liana…” My name comes out rough enough to weaken my knees if I’m not careful. God help me. I hope to hell he doesn’t notice.

His face lowers even closer to mine, close enough that I can feel the heat of his breathing. “Tell me you’re not with him. Tell me you didn’t fall for that fucking snake.”


What the hell is he even talking about? How the hell did these two even get to this level of hatred?


“When did that become your concern?” I reply, keeping my tone deceptively calm. “And funny coming from you, considering you walked in here attached to some long-legged lizard, didn’t you? What was her name again?” I hum thoughtfully. “Oh, right. Millie.”


His right hand slides slowly up my bare arm. Gentle. Dangerously familiar. By the time his fingers reach the side of my neck, my shoulder lifts involuntarily beneath his touch, my face almost leaning into his palm before I can stop myself.


Fuck. I can’t control it. My body reacts to him automatically, like muscle memory never got the memo that he destroyed me three years ago.
A slow smirk pulls across his mouth the second he notices. “Still sensitive.”


I force the breath trapped in my lungs back out. “Why are you here, Julian?” My voice comes out quieter than I want it to. “How the hell are you even here? You never knew who your father was, remember? So how did you suddenly turn into Randall Stone’s son?”


Where have you been? Do you have any idea what you put me through? Why the fuck did you leave me? I swallow all three questions before they can escape.


Julian says nothing. He just stares at me for several long seconds, his dark eyes moving over my face. Did he miss me too?


The thought barely has time to form before he destroys it. “Stay away from me, Liana.” The words hit like ice water dumped straight over my head. Apparently he didn’t miss me at all. “And stay the fuck away from Shaun.” His thumb brushes once more along the edge of my jaw in one final, devastating stroke. Then, with something that almost looks like reluctance, both of his hands leave me. And he walks away.


The emptiness he leaves behind hits harder than his presence did. Without the support of his body holding me upright, my knees finally give out beneath me, and I slide down the wall onto the bathroom floor.