Page 75 of Meet Me In The Dark

His mouth curves like he knows exactly how far under my skin he’s gotten. I’m about to tell him not to look so smug when his name is called, and his attention is claimed by a group of suits across the room.

Julian curses under his breath.

“Off you go.” I wave him away.

Before stepping into the light, he flashes me that practiced, charming smile he uses so well with everyone else. “How is it? Believable?”

“Panty melting.”

His gaze drifts deliberately down my legs. “How are yours?”

“Oh, I’m not wearing any.”

His jaw flexes. “For fuck’s sake, Celeste.”

Before I can enjoy more of his reaction, his name is called again. I slip away and step out onto the balcony.

Cool night air rushes over my skin. I grip the railing and draw in a deep breath, steadying myself before I look back inside.

From here, I watch him slide effortlessly into the role he’s known for—ruthless, charming, dangerously magnetic. I catch the exact moment the shift happens: the hard edge in his eyes smoothing into practiced warmth, his words soft but confident enough to pull people closer.

He flirts in the smallest ways, just enough to earn the occasional blush from women who can’t quite look away.

Every so often, his gaze lifts and finds mine across the room. Each time, there’s the same silent acknowledgment, and each time, heat coils low in my stomach.

He got to watch me before I ever saw him; it’s only fair I return the favor.

When my champagne is gone, I set the glass aside and roll my shoulders back. I’ve been here long enough. I’ve done my part.

Julian’s eyes meet mine once more before his attention returns to the group, the mask sliding neatlyback into place.

Taking advantage of the moment and the lack of eyes on me, I turn and slip away.

Twenty-Three

Julian

“Obsession,” Rae says, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes narrow as she assesses me in that way of hers. “That’s a strong word, Julian.”

“Yeah, well, it’s an accurate one,” I mutter, drumming my fingers on my knee.

“You’ve been coming to me for seven years. Not once have you used that word to describe anything… or anyone.”

“Maybe you’re slipping.”

Her lips twitch. “You’ve got jokes today. Good. Humor often masks vulnerability.”

“Thanks for the psychoanalysis,Freud. Can we move on?”

“Absolutely not.” She crosses her legs and settles in. I guess my dysfunction makes for good entertainment. “Let’s circle back. Tell me again why you think you’re obsessed with…” She glances down at her notes. “Celeste Morgan.”

My jaw tightens at just the sound of her name, and I shift uncomfortably on the couch.

I hate this fucking couch.

“Because she’s driving me insane. She’s all I think about. Work, sleep, exercise. It doesn’t matter. She’s there.”

“Intrusive thoughts?” Rae scribbles something down, probably ‘client spiraling over woman, hilarious’.