Page 29 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Julian

Like a man possessed, I storm down the hallway toward Celeste’s apartment.

I saw her earlier at the site. It was professional and brief, but the entire time, all I could think about was dragging her into a private space, pinning her down, and making her scream for me like she did this morning.

I was hoping I’d see her again before she left, but when I looked around, she was already gone.

It’s been bothering me all day, just out of reach, refusing to be ignored.

So now I have plenty of ideas on how she’s going to pay for it.

Music plays from inside as I stop at her door. I slam my fist down three times.

A carefree laugh drifts out before it opens. She stands there with her hair loose over her shoulders and an easy expression on her face that I’ve never seen before.

“Julian,” she says, stumbling over my name.

A little boy hangs off her leg, laughing like he’s drunk on sugar.

Well, this little shit just derailed my evening. And I can’t even be mad, because I just heard her laugh like that for the first time. Which pisses me off, because I want to be the reason she does it again.

“Do you have a family I don’t know about?”

She shifts the boy to her hip. “This is Levi. I’m babysitting for a friend.”

He peers at me shyly with big, dark eyes before he buries his face in her shoulder.

“Hello, Levi,” I say, but he doesn’t respond. “Shy kid.”

“Only with scary-looking men who knock like they’re trying to break down the door,” she says.

“Scary-looking, huh?”

“Levi thinks so.”

“And you?” I murmur, hearing the hitch in her breath as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

She shifts Levi higher on her hip. “Do you… want to come in?”

That look in her eyes says she knows it’s a bad idea, which only makes me more inclined to say yes.

I step inside.

Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she shuts the door, lowers the music, and the apartment settles into a softer hum as she leads me toward the kitchen.

A girl, maybe ten or eleven, is perched at the counter with headphones on and her nose buried in a tablet.

“Sasha, we have company,” Celeste calls.

The girl glances at me for half a second, then returns to whatever has her focus.

Celeste rolls her eyes and pokes her in the ribs. “Be nice.”

Sasha lets out an exaggerated huff but still doesn’t look up.

“She’s a little heartsick,” Celeste tells me, leaning in.

I arch a brow. “Heartsick? How old is she?”

“Ten.”

“Jesus.”

She shrugs. “Apparently, love knows no age.”

I look at Sasha, who’s now muttering under her breath. “That bad?”

“Oh, the worst. Her crush held hands with another girl at recess today. Utter devastation.”

I let out a quiet chuckle. “Hope he survives the fallout.”

“Unlikely. She’s already plotting his demise.” She sets Levi down. “Go play while I finish dinner, buddy.”

He bolts toward the living room and drops to the floor in front of a mountain of Legos.

When Celeste straightens up, her hands smooth over her sweater as if she’s trying to regain her composure.

Her gaze flickers to me. Hesitation. Nerves. I file that away, because I like knowing I put them there.

I should say something to lighten the mood or do something to break the strange tension in the air .

But I don’t.

For some sick reason, I like it.

I love drawing a reaction from her, whatever that might be.

I like that I get under her skin, that she’s not sure what to do with me in her space.

I let the silence drag until she fidgets.

Until she has to break it. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“What are we having?”

She crosses her arms, her lips curling in amusement. “Dinosaur nuggets and fries.”

Slowly, I take off my coat, drape it over the back of the chair, and lower myself into the seat.

“How could I refuse that?”

∞∞∞

We’re almost done with dinner, and I still can’t believe I agreed to eat dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

Celeste pushes her fries around her plate, lost in thought, as Levi pilots his last nugget through the air with engine sounds.

Across from us, Sasha—who’s been surgically attached to her tablet all dinner—finally peels off her headphones and sighs.

“You’re a boy,” she says, leveling me with her stare.

I freeze with a fry halfway to my mouth. “I am.”

“Boys are the worst.”

Celeste groans and sinks her face into her hands. “Sasha,” she mumbles, giving me an apologetic look through her fingers.

“It’s fine.” I lean forward, seriousness in my tone. “ Why are we the worst?”

Without missing a beat, Sasha launches into the story of her playground romance.

“He held another girl’s hand, Julian! Then he told me that he still wanted to be friends. As if I could still be friends with that…with that…smelly boy.” Her nose scrunches in disgust.

“Sounds unforgivable.”

“Exactly!” she cries, satisfied someone understands her plight. “You must be nice.”

I raise a brow. “Must I?”

She nods. “Aunt Celeste let you into her apartment. She never lets men in. Ever.”

“Sasha, you’ve got to stop listening to me and your mom when we talk adult talk,” Celeste scolds.

Sasha shrugs. “Mom always sends me out of the room when she talks to Aunt Celeste and Aunt Madi, but I eavesdrop. I’m really good at it, too.”

I bite back another laugh.

Smart kid.

“Since you’re a boy, what should I do?”

How the hell did I end up giving relationship advice to a ten-year-old?

I look at Celeste for help, but she just smiles sweetly and leans back with her glass raised, as if to say, “You’re on your own, buddy.”

“Let’s clarify,” I sigh. “I’m not one of those boys. I would never hold someone else’s hand at recess.”

Jesus Christ, Julian.

Sasha gives me an approving nod, satisfied with my answer. “Good. So, what do I do?”

“Alright,” I say, channeling my inner negotiator. “Option one: Move on. He’s clearly not worth your attention. Find someone better. ”

Sasha wrinkles her nose. “Next.”

“Option two: Make him jealous. Act like he never mattered. Maybe start talking to another kid who’s got better snacks. Two Lunchables, something impressive.”

She perks up. “Ryan always has two Lunchables.”

“Then Ryan is your guy…. Or,” I lean in because I’m invested now, “option three: Revenge.”

Her entire face lights up.

“No!” Celeste protests, eyes wide. “Julian, stop—”

“Hear me out,” I insist. “Harmless revenge. Nothing serious. Maybe start a little rumor. Like he still sleeps with a nightlight.”

“He does,” Sasha whispers.

“Perfect. Problem solved.”

Celeste groans louder, burying her face in her hands. “You’re encouraging playground warfare.”

Sasha beams at me. “Thank you, Julian. This was super helpful.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Okay. You helped me. How can I help you?”

“What were you thinking?”

“What do you want to know? About Aunt Celeste, I mean.”

“Sasha,” Celeste hisses. “Girl code.”

“What? He looks at you all googly-eyed.” Sasha rolls her eyes around for effect.

“He does not,” Celeste exclaims at the same time I say, “You’re right, Sasha. I’m all googly-eyed for Aunt Celeste.”

“Mom says you like Julian. Even I like Julian, and I hate boys today.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be having a chat with your mom.”

“I’ll hear that one too,” Sasha says before turning back to me. “Go on?”

Oh, this is good.

“What do you want to know, Julian? Her favorite color? Favorite food? If she snores?”

“I do not snore,” Celeste protests.

“Uh-huh,” Sasha counters. “Mom says she does.”

“Your mom is banned from wine night.”

I consider Sasha’s offer. “Actually, I’ve always wondered—does Aunt Celeste sing in the shower?”

“Yep. Loudly. She thinks she’s Beyoncé.”

Celeste presses a palm to her forehead with a strangled noise.

“Interesting,” I say. “And dance moves?”

“The worst. Like, awkward chicken arms.”

“Chicken arms?”

“Like this.” Sasha demonstrates, flapping her elbows wildly at the table.

Levi laughs and immediately copies her.

Celeste drops her head to the table with a gentle thunk. “Kill me now.”

But Sasha is on a roll. “Want to know the best part?”

“There’s more?” I ask, delighted.

“Oh yeah. Sometimes she talks to herself in the mirror when she’s getting ready. Like, ‘You’ve got this, Celeste,’ or ‘You’re a confident, capable woman.’ Stuff like that.”

Celeste’s mouth falls open. “You are a tiny traitor.” She turns her glare on me. “Why did I think inviting you inside was a good idea?”

“You like him,” Sasha pipes in. “And he’s cute.”

“Sasha!”

“That’s what Mom said, and then you agreed and—”

“Okay!” Celeste yells quickly, cheeks blazing. “Who wants ice cream?”

“Me!” Levi shouts, throwing both sticky hands into the air.

Sasha smiles, clearly aware she’s hit the jackpot.

Once they’re gone, Sasha holds out a palm.

“Nice teamwork,” she whispers.

I laugh and high-five her. “Thanks, kid.”

“But Julian,” she says suddenly, all business, “Mom and Aunt Madi said they’ll chop off your privates if you hurt Aunt Celeste.”

I swallow. “Good to know.”

“So maybe don’t hold any other girl’s hands at recess, okay?”

I hold out my pinky finger. She eyes it for a beat before wrapping her smaller one around mine.

“Promise,” I say quietly before Celeste comes barrelling back, red-faced and eyeing us.

She holds up two bowls. “Ice-cream, anyone?”