Julian: A Dark Angel Series Companion Novella (Dark Angel #3) (3 page)

Fuck no, the yoga poses.

It was like porn with clothes on.

I was lost in my yoga fantasy when Tristan’s voice repeated, “Are you listening to me? Cause you seem to be preoccupied with the brunette and that hot piece of ass next to her. I would have called the brunette a hot piece of ass but it seems politically incorrect to call a pregnant woman that.”

I winced at his choice of words. “Do you always talk that way about women?”

“What way? Just pointing out the obvious.” He shrugged. “How about I go say hello?”

The panic set in. “No…no, don’t you dare. Plus, you need to stop hitting on women. You’re cramping my suave style. Anyway, we need to go.”

“Why?”

Why, Julian? Think of a fucking reason why.

“I’m taking you out to a Lakers game tonight.”

“Mate, are you serious? Fuck yeah, that’s awesome! I’ve always wanted to go to one.”

“Yeah, awesome…”

The Lakers game turned out to be a premium one which meant the seats cost a fortune. I had no way out of it, so I just maxed out my credit card and cursed at myself for bringing up the idea. Sure, I had a great time, but the whole way home I stressed about how I was going to pay rent next month. Journalism paid nicely, but I was up to my ears in debt. Now I had Tristan living with me board-free, another mouth to feed.

This is why you shouldn’t snort lines, you fucking idiot.

Most of the time, he stayed out of my way; where he went during the day was beyond me. He talked about trying out for some acting jobs just to get some cash. I laughed at the thought of him lined up with every wannabe actor in Hollywood, but was made to look like an idiot when he got a small gig in a toothpaste commercial. Well, he did have great teeth I guess.

I dove into my work, trying to cover every story I could for the extra cash. The reality was I needed to get my book published. I had been writing a manuscript and was about halfway done. If I could get a publisher on board, then financially I would be ahead, not to mention conquering the dream of becoming a writer. After pulling a few strings, I managed to get a meeting with a publisher tomorrow afternoon. The nerves were getting the better of me, so I decided I needed something to calm me down. Bring me back to reality.

Charlie reality.

I sit in my usual spot, the corner booth that’s hidden by the coat rack. Thankfully, the menus at the café are tall, and so I hide…like every other time. I glance at my watch, 11 a.m.—her usual coffee time. Without fail, she’s been here every Tuesday for the past three months. She always looks flustered when she comes in, rushing with her order of a double mint hot chocolate, which replaces the large black she always orders.

Last Tuesday she was extra flustered, but fuck, she looked so gorgeous when she was. Seeing her pregnant was like a double-edged sword. I yearned to watch that glow she gave off, but the evident growth of her stomach reminded me it was his…
and it killed me
. Another man touching her…he was touching her.

“Uncle Jools!”

What the fuck?

“Earth to Uncle Jools? Mate, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He grabs the menu, which I was hiding behind, causing me to panic.

“What are you doing here? And don’t call me that.” I nervously watch the door. Fuck! Any second now she will be here.

I yank the menu off him, pretending to be reading it, trying not to attract any attention.

“Well, you were out of milk and I yelled for you, but you didn’t hear me so I just followed you.” He dumps his skateboard on the ground, making a loud sound. I raise my finger to my mouth, motioning for him to keep the noise down, and he proceeds to give me a “whatever” look.

“That’s kinda stalkerish, don’t you think?” I ask. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

“Stalkerish if you were a hot chick.” He leans down to look at my legs. “But clearly you are not a hot chick.”

From the corner of my eye I search the door, only to be met by Eric’s stare.
Shit, Eric!

He walks over to the counter and places an order, his back facing us. Perhaps he forgot who I was …yes, surely he wouldn’t remember me. I haven’t seen him since the gala. But then again, remember Eric? He has a photographic memory. That time I got fitted for a tux for the charity ball, he said I was engrained in his mind, and should I decide to switch teams, he would be first in line with a paddle and ball gag ready.

He turns around and winks at the coffee guy before walking toward us.

Just breathe, it’s a coincidence. You weren’t here to see Charlie. People need coffee…I needed coffee. Yes, stick with that!

“Well well well. Mr. Julian Baker, it’s been a while.” He smirks.

“Eric, how have you been?” I politely ask, shaking his hand.

“I’ve been fabulous, but you don’t want to know about me, and if you do then ding ding ding!” He raises his eyebrows up and down which causes me to laugh. He hasn’t changed one bit.

“I believe we’ve established this on more than one occasion.”

“Yes, we have, but hey, men are known to swing during a midlife crisis.”

“Eric, I’m thirty-three and I have all my hair. I’d like to think it’s still a while till I hit my midlife crisis.”

“Okay, but if I see you driving around in a hotted-up sports car, I may yell, ‘This guy has the smallest penis
ever
.”

I continue laughing; Eric has this way of turning any situation around. Here I was, paranoid that he would know I was waiting for Charlie. Well, at least he didn’t point it out…
yet.

“So, is this your kid or something?” He looks at Tristan, eyeing him up and down.

“Mate, I’m twenty-one, hardly a kid,” Tristan says defensively.

“Oh, nice accent. Perhaps the skateboard threw me off,” Eric replies in a childish manner.

“Eric, this is my nephew, Tristan. He’s staying with me for a few weeks.”

Introductions over with, now Eric could move on his merry way and this encounter could have never existed.

“Nice to meet you, Tristan. So, you from the land down under?” Eric’s Aussie accent is terrible.

“Nope, a native southerner. Just sent to boarding school in Sydney,” Tristan corrects him.

“Boarding school? Oh, how very Harry Potter of you! Boarding school would be like a dream come true. Stuck in a dorm room with other boys? Communal showers?” He starts to trail off as Tristan sits there looking uncomfortable.

“It’s kinda not like that,” Tristan mumbles, his voice low.

Eric senses Tristan is uncomfortable and moves on. “So, how long are you in Cali for?”

“Officially, two weeks, but then again it’s however long Uncle Jools will have me.”

I cringe again at the name and shoot him an annoyed look. He mouths the word “sorry”.

“Tristan here has decided to couch surf, or should I say set up indefinitely on my couch with his PlayStation?”

Eric continues to ramble on, his filter apparently deactivated. “Right, I’m not good with electronic devices. Unless of course it comes with—”

“I get it, Eric…your taste is somewhat controversial.”

“Only to those who live a life of celibacy!” Eric laughs.

I have an idea. Will it work? Who knows, but it would keep Tristan busy, which means I’d have more time to resume my activities as per normal.

“So, Eric, would you be interested in showing Tristan around? You know, all the cool spots where you kids hang out these days?”

“I don’t think Tristan would, um…” He clears his throat. “…be thrilled with my hangout spots.”

“Do I dare ask?” Yes, I ask.

“So, how do you feel about whips and chains?” Eric teases Tristan.

“I um…mate, I don’t…”

“
Relax
…it’s a joke. You Aussies make plenty of jokes while you’re having a shrimp on the barbie!”

Tristan and I both laughed. So, that was done. Eric was designated official tour guide of Tristan and thankfully nothing had been said about Charlie.

…

I had been staring at my screen for a good three hours. The nerves were taking over; tomorrow’s meeting was make-or-break time. The publisher had agreed to see my half-finished manuscript. I doubted myself; my confidence was at its lowest. I thought about pulling the plug, but this was my dream. I needed to clear my mind. Nothing good would come of me sitting here and worrying about something I couldn’t control.

“So I don’t know what time I’ll be home,” Tristan pipes up.

“Okay, I’m not your dad, Tristan. Plus you’re twenty-one. Go get laid tonight. Might do you some good.”

“Yeah, so Eric texted me to meet him at some restaurant first. Do I look okay?”

I turn to face him. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a Man of Steel shirt. It appears he has a vast range of comical shirts.

“Eric will crucify you. But hey, he knows you’re straight so he’ll probably go easy on you.”

There is a cheerful knock on the door and I open it to find a very dressed-up Eric.
Oh shit.

“Hi, Batman, is Robin here?” He chuckles.

“Very funny. Tristan is in the bathroom, he’ll be out in a minute.”

Eric walks in and sits on the lounge, eyeing the place. “Quite a small apartment?”

“Yes it is,” I answer flatly.

“So listen, before Tristan comes out, I need to tell you I told Charlie.”

I quickly meet his eyes, my adrenaline spiking at the sound of her name. Fuck, just act calm.

“How is Charlie?”
Really?

“She is great, more than great actually. Look, she asked if you were okay.”

She asked about me?
How I wanted to shout out from the rooftops! God that sounded lame.

“Listen, Julian. She doesn’t have a problem with me talking to you. But Lex, well—”

“If it’s going to cause trouble…”
Act like the nice guy, Julian. You know how to put on a great act.

“No, I can handle Lex. Just…” Tristan walks into the room and interrupts the conversation.

“Oh dear Armani gods. May you grant me the patience I need to fix what clearly needs to be changed!” Eric shakes his head and Tristan shrugs him off. They say goodbye and close the door behind them before Eric can finish his sentence about Lex.

As soon as they’re gone, I jump on the couch. She asked if I was okay! That meant she was thinking about me, she cares about me…does she still love me?

I have to find out for myself.

Tonight, I would go see her again.

And tonight, I would get closer.

It was just after midnight, and this time I didn’t sit in my usual spot. I entered through the back fence where there was a small gap. I knew where the cameras were positioned; the red light flickered every few seconds. I flattened my body along the fence, careful not to rustle any bushes. Thank god that yappy dog of hers was nowhere to be seen, but I still remained on guard, armed with dog treats in case it made an appearance.

On the left side of the house was a small entrance about the size of a manhole. I pulled the lid off and placed it gently on the ground. Climbing into the confined area, I crawled through the small cavity till I found myself in the basement. Her room was not far from the entrance of the basement—a few feet more and I would see her.

I had only done this once before when they were vacationing in Mexico, so to know that she was actually here, my heart was beating a fucking million miles a minute. I could have sworn it was on surround sound echoing throughout the house and I would have a heart attack. Imagine the headlines now: Ex-Lover Found Dead in Woman’s Basement.

Yeah, just great, that will calm your nerves.

Lost in my tragic thoughts, I somehow found myself at the entrance of her bedroom. Carefully placing my hand on the door knob, I turned it slightly until it made a small creak. I stopped in a panic, then attempted again till the door opened and I was looking directly at her.

It was at that moment that my heart slowed its beat, almost like it found comfort, a form of peace it was desperately seeking. I imagined that my heart decided to stroll up and sit on my shoulder, nestling itself into my neck, watching her sleep with a huge smile. Yep, we became one at this moment, losing ourselves as we watched this beauty before us sleep.

Did she love me?

She said she would always love me.

Love doesn’t just fade.

I loved her.

Why else would I be so happy just watching her?

I knew this much: I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to inflict any pain upon her. That was my definition of being in love.

I watched her sleep, her eyes fluttering. Her soft breathing was in perfect rhythm, her chest rising and falling.
She was angelic.

But I didn’t know how to make her mine.

That thought alone pushed my heart back into that dark hole and my anger started to boil. The room suddenly felt stifling hot; my palms started to sweat and I gulped for air.

I was having a panic attack.

In approximately one minute, I would do something I could possibly regret.

I needed out. Now.

There was no reason why I wanted to touch it, but on her nightstand I saw her wedding ring. I quickly walked over and picked it up with my fingers. Only inches away from her, I crouched down till I made the boldest move I had ever made in my fucking life.

I leaned in and kissed her hair.

The scent shot through me like a bullet, ricocheting throughout my whole body. All my senses heightened and that fragile broken side of me knew the only way to repair the damage was to have her in my arms.

But who
…Chelsea or Charlie?