Page 28 of Kiln Me Softly

See? Told you we aced it.

Aiden’s text lit up Juniper’s dark bedroom – the one she’d grown up in rather than her claustrophobic dorm.

While she was home for Christmas, she was making the most of her constellation-patterned duvet and double bed, though the peace was set to end tomorrow when the extended family arrived for Christmas celebrations.

She begrudged moving, but the butterflies in her stomach, which had fluttered every time Aiden had texted her since the exhibit, made the decision for her, so she stretched onto her side to pull her phone from its charging dock. Opening her messages, she found an image accompanied the text.

A screenshot. Of their final grades for the semester.

Juniper shot up, clicking on the picture and zooming in. Her brows lifted at the sight of Aiden’s full name at the top of the document.

Aiden James Whittaker? I thought your middle name would be something fancier than that, like Archibald or Herbert.

Jesus, thank god it isn’t. I’m named after my granddad, who is actually the least fancy man I know.

She supposed that meant money hadn’t been in his family for all that long. Either that, or the word ‘fancy’ was lost on him because it was something he’d always been.

He must have sensed her distraction, because a second text popped up. Read the bloody grade, Hodge.

She did, and then again when she was sure she’d gotten it wrong.

Eighty-four marks. Out of a hundred. They’d bagged a top grade, somehow.

Even after Juniper had been sure that Christopher’s compliments were actually insults, because ‘ambitious’ before had always meant enthusiastic to the point of carelessness.

She squealed and opened her laptop, slung under her bed from watching Netflix the night before.

In his cage, Cerberus emerged to see what all the fuss was about, his wet pink nose twitching through the bars.

It seemed too good to be true, so she logged onto her own RACA account expecting to see a much lower score.

But Chris had given her eighty-four, too, along with some feedback: Creative, well-thought-out exhibit with strong research and clear collaboration behind it. Technical skills need some polishing, as to be expected in the first term, but otherwise, thoroughly impressed by strength of piece.

‘I’ve only gone and done it, Cerberus!’ she shouted, shutting her laptop to flail her arms around in a happy dance. ‘We did it!’

We .

Juniper didn’t know what to say, not without letting her growing fondness for Aiden bleed through.

After nine weeks of working together, among other things, it was hard to pretend she still saw him as that intolerable rich kid whose success meant her failure.

He was talented – talented enough to have earned his place at RACA with more than just money and status.

And he was funny, quick to return her witty remarks in a way that broke her resolve with laughter.

And he’d defended her with Tom. She hadn’t wanted him to, needed him to, but he had.

It hadn’t felt as mortifying as she’d expected, to have someone fighting in her corner.

In fact, it had turned her on, and the celebratory drinks afterwards had been spent trying not to crawl onto his lap.

Ugh . All of these feelings made her queasy.

With that in mind, she was only capable of sending a few exclamation points back to him. Maybe she owed him more – after all, he was the reason she’d grown comfortable on the throwing wheel – but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything that would hint towards her inner turmoil.

She couldn’t like him. It wasn’t allowed.

I have an early Xmas present for you, came the next text from Aiden.

Juniper held her breath at another screenshot, this time with her favourite band’s logo at the top. He’d bought two bloody tickets to see Sleep Token live next summer in London.

She didn’t know what to do. What to say. She’d wanted to buy tickets herself, but she didn’t have the money, and the arena tour had sold out in minutes. Her trembling thumb hit the call button, and she had no idea whether it was by accident or not. Her brain was too fuzzy and excited and confused.

Aiden picked up immediately. ‘Hello, Juni.’ She couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t missed the soft gravel of his voice saying her name. ‘Knew I’d get your attention again somehow.’

‘You can’t get me concert tickets,’ she blurted, knotting her fingers into the stars of her duvet until the fabric bunched.

‘Well, I can. And I did.’ He was so arrogant. And so, so difficult to hate.

‘You don’t even know if I like Sleep Token!’

A chuckle crackled in her ear. ‘Sweetheart, you have their badge on your jacket and their lyrics on your lockscreen.’

She’d forgotten about that. Mostly because she hadn’t worn said jacket since the end of summer, and she’d been meaning to change her phone’s background.

He’d noticed? And remembered? Juniper was terrible at both of those skills, and couldn’t comprehend why. Or how. Or… why. ‘Are you that desperate to spend time with me that you’re buying my affection, now?’

‘Yep, you caught me. Though I didn’t know you were capable of affection.

’ She could hear the smirk in his voice, but wished she could see it, too.

Then again, she was glad not to be on a video call.

Her pillow had fashioned her hair into a bird’s nest, and her boobs didn’t like to be contained by the vest top she was wearing.

‘Why?’ she blurted.

‘After last term, is it so hard to believe that I like spending time with you? C’mon. You can’t be that oblivious.’

She was that oblivious. They’d agreed that they were just two students forced to partner up, prone to accidental sex now and then.

Sure, that sex was the best Juniper had ever had, and maybe they did have fun together even outside of it, but a part of her had suspected that she’d been more of a convenience for him.

He could get anybody he wanted, and they no longer had an excuse to keep at it.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes as she tried to conjure a reply. Her mind was blank, heart doing all the talking with its thuds against her ribs.

‘Still with me?’ Aiden murmured after long moments of silence.

‘Barely,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You could just say, Thank you, Aiden. I’d love to see my favourite band with you .’

She could say that, but it felt like admitting defeat.

All this time she’d spent fighting her better instincts, fighting her feelings for him, trying to convince herself that their connection meant nothing…

If she went back on that, what did it say about her?

That her instincts were wrong? That she could push all of her standards and morals aside for a man if he was nice enough to her?

But maybe he’s different now, an annoying voice in her head niggled. Maybe you should let the past go.

Even so, summer was months away. ‘Isn’t it a bit presumptuous of you, to plan so far ahead?’ It was difficult to imagine him still liking her next week, never mind in six months’ time.

‘I’m committed to the cause,’ he replied without missing a beat. Almost like he’d expected her to say it.

She took a deep breath. This was too much, too fast, and there would always be that siren in the back of her mind warning her not to get so close. He was still his father’s son. Still capable of trampling all over her little life like he had two years ago. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Aiden hummed in amusement. ‘Is it my turn to beg?’

The space between her thighs tingled. She imagined him in front of her, fingers roving her bare shoulders the way they always did, like he never got bored of exploring her skin.

Maybe she was right. Maybe she should just give in.

She couldn’t imagine what it might be like to let him in in more ways than just physical.

Would he like her, underneath all of the snark and barriers, or would he see her for what she really was: lost, afraid, bitter?

And what about him? Who would he be if she stopped finding all the bad in him? If she saw the good instead? She’d seen glimpses of it: in their project, in the way he respected her, listened to her, when they were together.

‘It always was,’ she said finally, softly. ‘I told you I don’t beg.’

‘Liar. I’ve heard plenty of begging from you.’

‘I hope you’re not trying to initiate phone sex at’ – she checked the time on her phone – ‘ten o’clock in the morning.’

His laughter echoed down the line, making her smile, too. ‘No, but I’m glad that’s where your mind went.’

A knock sounded at her door, likely Mum letting her know she was heading out for a shift or groceries. Juniper grabbed her jumper from the corner of the bed and said to Aiden, ‘I’ve got to go.’

‘Of course you do.’ He sounded as disappointed as she felt, enough that she wondered if he really did like spending time with her. She hadn’t taken him seriously when he’d said it before, convinced he’d just wanted to have the freedom to touch her without prying eyes.

It was that that left her to quietly say, ‘Thank you, Aiden. For the tickets.’

‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘It’s a maybe.’ She smiled into her hand. ‘Have a good Christmas, okay?’

A pause. And then: ‘You, too, Juni. Call me when you’re home.’

The call cut off, but his words still floated in the air around her. Home . London wasn’t home. For either of them. Yet he’d stayed, claiming that there was no reason for him to head up north for the holidays. Avoiding his dad, still?

At least it put some space between them. Juniper needed it to sort out her messy brain. Make a real decision about whether she’d be willing to give Aiden a fair chance, even if her heart had already tried to do it for her.

Another, louder knock sounded at the door, and she huffed.

Juniper yanked her fleecy pyjama jumper on to contain her vest escapees. ‘Come in!’