Page 46 of Love & Notes

The touch is brief, but it does everything that it needs to. The moment his skin meets mine, my entire world goes completely still.

From the corner of my eye, I see Nancy’s plastic smile die, her expression turning to absolute, frozen ice.

I should move.

There are a dozen sensible and safe things that I should do right now, but I don’t move an inch. My body refuses to cooperate. I stay entirely paralysed under his hand, my breath caught in the back of my throat, looking up into his dangerous, inviting eyes.

“The heat,” he repeats, his thumb lingering for slightly longer than necessary against my skin as his gaze drops to my mouth.

He sees right through the bullshit. He knows exactly what he is doing to me.

“Yes,” I whisper. “The heat.” I don't look away.

“Let’s get out of the sun then, Bow-Peep. Fancy some Chopin?”

“Fine.”

“After you, Vance.” He steps back, finally releasing me from his touch.

We are six feet away from the heavy glass doors of the main building when I hear the aggressive click of heels on the stone steps behind us.

“Julian.” Nancy reaches out, her perfectly manicured hand landing firmly on his leather sleeve.

He stops. I stop. We both turn around at the same time.

“You’re just going to walk away from me?” She purses her lips, her eyes clearly furious with anger. “Really, Julian?”

“We were going inside, Nancy,” Julian says, his voice flat.

“Right.” She laughs, the constructed sound echoing in the courtyard. “Because apparently that is where you spend all your time now.” Her eyes cut to me, then back to him. “With her.”

Ummmm, excuse me?

“Nancy—” I start, my defensive walls instantly slamming back into place.

“I’m just saying,” Nancy says as she takes a step closer to him, ignoring me completely. “I heard the girls talking. About the two of you. About how cosy things have been getting in that practice room after hours.” She turns to speak to me directly. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Ellise.”

What the hell?

Nancy smiles. “I think it’s a bit—”

“Nancy, stop,” Julian says quietly. His voice isn’t angry. It is calm and controlled.

“Julian, I’m—”

“I heard what you said on the steps just now. To Erica and the rest of the girls.” He looks down at her, his eyes fixed on hers with a steady directness. “Look, you and I are good. We’ve had our time, and I care about you. You know I do. But broadcasting that shit on the quad? Bringing Vance into it? It’s cheap, Nancy. It’s not who you are, and it’s definitely not what this is.”

OH. MY. GOD.

The fake smile immediately disappears from her face. She stands motionless staring at him, her lips parted in total shock.

“Right, it’s like that, is it?” she mutters, pulling the shoulder of her knit back over her shoulder. She waits for Julian to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Fine. Message received,” she seethes.

She pivots gracefully—typical ballerina—and walks back down the steps to her friends. Her head is held high, but the performative spark has completely disappeared. I almost feel sorry for her, but the thought doesn’t last long.

What the hell does she think we are doing in that practice room?