by Ana Huang
“Not even in your wildest dreams.” Jules leaned back in her chair. “Remember the last game we played? I won, you lost.”
“I don’t have dreams about you, Red. Only nightmares.”
“Could’ve fooled me, considering how hard you came the other night.” Jules released her hair from her bun and let it cascade over her shoulders. The movement stretched her shirt across her chest, and my eyes involuntarily dipped to where her nipples poked through the thin material in hard, pebbled points.
When I lifted them again, my jeans had tightened, and Jules wore a smug smile. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
Bingo. Mission accomplished.
I savored the triumph for a minute before I inclined my head. “Agreed. Ladies first.”
I’d learned my lesson from our wager at The Black Fox. Always set rules.
“This is a strictly physical arrangement,” Jules said. “We don’t have claims on each other’s time outside of sex, so don’t ask me where I am or what I’m doing when we’re not together.”
“Fine.” I had no plans to do either of those things. “We keep this between us. Don’t tell anyone—not your friends, people at the clinic, and especially not Ava.”
“Of course I won’t tell anyone.” Jules wrinkled her nose. “I hardly want people to know I’m involved with you.”
“You could only be so lucky.”
We ran through the rest of our rules in rapid succession.
“Always use protection.”
“No sleeping over.”
“No getting jealous if the other person goes on a date with someone else.”
Fine with me. An exclusive friends-but-not-friends-with-benefits situation was too close to an actual relationship for comfort.
“If you want to end the arrangement, be upfront about it. No ghosting or beating around the bush. That’s fucking immature.”
“No falling in love.”
I scoffed. “Red, you’ll fall in love with me before I ever fall in love with you.” The mere idea was absurd.
Jules was the most difficult woman I’d ever encountered. God help whichever poor bastard ended up falling for her.
“As if.” She sniffed. “You think far too highly of your dick, Chen. It gets the job done, but it’s not a magical rod.”
“Last rule. Never refer to my cock as a rod again.”
Some slang should be banned from the English language.
“Whatever, Joshy McRod.” Jules offered a deceivingly sweet smile. “Do we have a deal?”
“Deal.” I grasped her outstretched hand and squeezed. She squeezed back twice as hard. It reminded me of when we shook on our clinic truce. We were making an awful lot of deals lately, for some reason. “Only fucking, no feelings.”
I didn’t doubt for a second I could hold up my end of the deal. Most people caught feelings in these types of arrangements, which was why they never lasted long.
But if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I would never, ever fall in love with Jules Ambrose.
20
JULES
The textbook definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
My definition of insanity was entering into a sexual arrangement with Josh Chen.
I blamed my hormones and law school. If I weren’t so busy, I wouldn’t have to resort to sleeping with the enemy. Literally.
We hadn’t had sex since our pact last week, but it would happen eventually. I was already getting antsy thinking about it. My vibrators were fine when they were all I had, but now that regular and, as much as I hated to admit it, great sex was an option, my body was screaming at me to make up for years of orgasms lost during law school.
I tried to ignore the persistent buzz beneath my skin as Alex, Ava, Stella, and I entered Hyacinth, a hot new club on 14th Street.
I would not think about him tonight, not around Ava. That was just wrong.
Plus, I was paranoid she’d developed mutant mind reading powers and could tell whenever I was thinking about her brother.
I snuck a glance at her, but she was too busy talking to Alex to notice my guilty expression.
“This place is insane.” Stella tilted her head up to examine the giant waterfall chandelier hanging above us. Strands of crystals dripped over three tiers and reflected the lights flashing through the club. Music pulsed through the room and reverberated in my bones, adding to the contagious energy climbing up my spine.
I’d missed this, the feeling of being alive and out in the world instead of cooped up in a library. Ava and Stella liked their alone time, but I thrived on a crowd’s energy. It gave me more buzz than any caffeine or adrenaline hit.
“Only the best to celebrate our new home.” I bumped my hip against hers. “Can you believe it? I thought Pam would have a heart attack.”
After weeks of waiting, Stella and I had finally moved into The Mirage. We’d picked up our keys from an irritated Pam that morning and spent the rest of the day unpacking with help from our friends. Now, we were celebrating with a well-deserved night of drinks and dancing at the hottest new club in town.
Stella shook her head. “Only you would sound so happy about that.”
“Can’t help it. She makes it so easy.” I flashed a mischievous smile. “I promise we’ll be the best tenants ever.”
“J, I swear to God, if you get us kicked out of the building…”
“I won’t. Have more faith in me. But if seeing us around raises her blood pressure…” I shrugged. “That’s not our fault.”
Stella sighed and shook her head again.
Ava touched my arm. “Alex and I are going to grab a table. You guys coming?” Only the roped-off VIP area contained tables, but I wasn’t surprised Alex could finagle us access.
I was surprised he’d helped us unpack, though that was one hundred percent Ava’s doing. He’d worn the same grumpy look he was wearing now all day.
“Later. I’m scoping out the floor first.” I appreciated a good VIP area as much as anybody, but I wasn’t sequestering myself on my first night out in months. “You go ahead. I’ll meet up with you guys in a bit." I patted Alex’s shoulder. “Smile. It’s not illegal.”
His stony expression didn’t budge.
Oh, well. I tried.
While Alex, Ava, and Stella made their way to the VIP area, I pushed my way to the bar. I’ll do a lap of the dance floor later, see if anything interesting was happening, then join them.
I was the one who’d suggested we go clubbing tonight, even though we were all tired from unpacking, so I didn’t blame them if they wanted to chill. Honestly, we should’ve stayed in, but it was my last semi-free night before graduation. I had to do something before bar prep took over my life, and our new apartment was as good an excuse for a celebration as any.
I placed my order for a whiskey sour and scanned the club while I waited. Gold outline sketches of hyacinths snaked over the black walls while fresh bouquets of the actual flower dotted the modular tables scattered throughout the room. A green-haired DJ pumped out remixes from his platform overlooking the dance floor, and servers in skimpy black uniforms circulated with trays of shots. It was leagues above what other D.C. nightspots had to offer, and I could see why Hyacinth was so pop—
My phone buzzed with a new text.
Annoyance and anticipation swirled in my chest when I saw who it was.
Josh: Tonight, midnight.
We’d agreed to keep our communications short, to the point, and vague enough that if anyone saw them, we could explain them away with a creative excuse. His text met all three criteria, but still.
What happened to a good old-fashioned hey, how are you first?
Me: Can’t. I’m busy.
Josh: Too busy for an orgasm?
Me: Your fragile ego can’t take a postponement? If that’s the case, this isn’t going to work…
For once, Josh ignored the bait.
Jos
h: Tomorrow, 10pm. My place.
Josh: P.S. You’re going to pay for the fragile ego comment…
My breath hitched, and I was in the middle of typing out a reply when I heard my name, loud and clear, over the pounding music.
“Jules.”
I froze, ice trickling through my veins at the sound of that voice.
It couldn’t be him. I was in D.C. How could he have possibly found me, in this club on this night?
My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be.
But when I raised my head, my eyes confirmed what my brain desperately wanted to deny.
Light brown hair. Blue eyes. Cleft chin.
No. Panic clawed up my throat, rendering me mute.
“Hey, J.” Max smiled, the sight more menacing than reassuring. “Long time no see.”
21
JULES
“What…you…” My ability to form a coherent sentence died an undignified death as I stared at my ex-boyfriend.
He was here. In D.C. Standing less than two feet away and wearing an alarmingly calm expression.
“Surprise.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. His pants were more faded than he typically liked, his shirt more wrinkled. His face had lost the fullness of youth and taken on a gaunter shape.
Other than that, he was the same Max.
Handsome, charming, manipulative as hell.
Some people were capable of change, but Max was as set in his ways as concrete. If he was here, he wanted something from me, and he wouldn’t leave until he got it.
“Jules Miller, speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.” His chuckle set off a dozen alarm bells in my mind. “Or should I say, Jules Ambrose? Nice name change, though I’m surprised you didn’t change it all the way.”
My muscles turned rigid.
“It was a legal name change.” I’d changed it after I moved to Maryland, and given I’d only been eighteen at the time with no mortgage, no credit cards, and no debts, it didn’t take long to erase Jules Miller and replace her with Jules Ambrose.
Perhaps I should’ve changed my first name too, but I loved the name Jules, and I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of my old identity completely.
“One of the few legal things you did,” Max joked, but the words lacked humor.
The club’s energy, so exhilarating minutes ago, morphed into something more sinister, like it was one discordant beat away from exploding into chaos. Walls of sound and body heat pressed against me, trapping me in an invisible cage.
Max was one of the few people who knew about my past. One tiny push, and he could topple my world like it was a Jenga tower.
“You’re supposed to be…” Once again, I grasped for words that never came.
“In Ohio?” Max’s smile hardened. “Yeah. We have a lot to talk about.” He flicked a glance around us, but everyone was too busy battling for the bartender’s attention to pay us much mind. Nevertheless, he angled his head toward a dark corner of the club. “Over there.”
I followed him to a quiet hallway near the back exit. It was only steps away from the main club, but it was so dark and hushed it might as well be another world.
I tucked my phone back into my purse, Josh temporarily forgotten, and wiped my palms against my dress.
If I were smart, I would run and never look back, but Max had already tracked me down. Running would only delay the inevitable.
“I’m hurt you didn’t answer my texts,” Max said, never losing his affable expression. “With our history, I expected at least a reply.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” I kept my voice as even as possible despite the shake in my hand. “How did you even find me? How did you get my number?”
He tsked. “Those aren’t the right questions. Ask me why I haven’t reached out until now. Ask where I’ve been the past seven years.” When I didn’t, his face darkened. “Ask me.”
A sick feeling rose in my stomach. “Where have you been the past seven years?”
“Jail, Jules.” His smile didn’t reach the cold, flat plains of his eyes. “I was in jail for what you did. I only got out a few months ago.”
“That’s not possible.” Disbelief constricted my throat. “We got away.”
“You got away. You ran off to Maryland and created a perfect little life for yourself with the money we stole.” A shadow of a snarl rose on Max’s mouth before his expression smoothed again. “You left with no warning and left me to deal with the mess you made.”
I bit back a stinging retort. I didn’t want to provoke him until I figured out what he wanted, but while it was true I’d run off without leaving him so much as a note, we’d hatched the idea to steal from Alastair together. Max was the one who got greedy and deviated from the plan.
“They’ll be back soon.” I glanced around my stepfather’s office, my anxiety a tight knot in my chest. “We have to go now.”
We already had what we came for. Fifty thousand dollars in cash, which Alastair kept in his “secret” safe. He thought no one knew about it, but I’d made a point of exploring every nook and cranny of the mansion when I lived here. That included any places where Alastair may have stashed his secrets. I even figured out his safe combination—0495, the month and year he founded his textile company.
Cracking his safe wasn’t rocket science, and fifty grand wasn’t a secret, but it was a helluva lot of money, even after Max and I split it in half.
That was, if we stayed out of jail. We’d yet to get caught after seven months of pulling jobs in Columbus, but lingering here was just asking for trouble.
“Hold on. I...almost...got it.” Max grunted as he pried open the custom-made lock of the small metal box attached to the safe’s interior. It served as a second layer of security for Alastair’s most prized item: an antique diamond necklace he’d won at an auction several years ago after bidding over a hundred thousand dollars for it.
I already regretted telling Max about the necklace. I should’ve known fifty grand wouldn’t be enough for him. Nothing was enough for him. He always wanted more money, more clout. More, more, more, even if it got him into trouble.
“Leave it,” I hissed. “We can’t even pawn it without leading the authorities right to us. We have to—”
The bright beam of headlights filled the windows and threw a spotlight on our frozen forms. It was followed by the slam of a car door and Alastair’s deep, distinctive voice.
He and my mom went to dinner in the city every Friday, but they usually didn’t return home until ten. It was only nine-thirty.
“Shit!” Panic climbed up my throat. “Leave the fucking necklace, Max. We need to go!”
“I’m almost done. This baby will have us set for years.” Max wrenched the lock off with a triumphant smile and snatched the diamonds out. “Got it!”
I didn’t bother responding. I was already halfway out the door, adrenaline propelling me down the hall and toward the back exit. The duffel bag of cash banged against my hip with each step.
However, I skidded to a stop when I heard the front door open, causing Max to nearly crash into me.
“That was a terrible restaurant, Alastair.” My mom sniffed. “The duck was cold, and the wine was awful. We need to choose a better option next week.”
My fingers tightened around my bag strap at the sound of Adeline’s voice.
I hadn’t spoken to her since she kicked me out a year ago, right after my seventeenth birthday. Despite the awful way we’d parted, her familiar dulcet tones caused tears to sting my eyes.
My stepfather murmured something I couldn’t hear.
They were close. Too close. Just a wall separated the foyer from the hallway, and Max and I had to pass through the open arch connecting the two spaces to reach the exit. If my mom or Alastair turned into the hall instead of walking straight toward the living room, we were screwed.
My mom continued complaining about the restaurant, but her voice gradually faded.
They’d gone
to the living room.
Instead of relief, old hurt crowded my chest. I was her only daughter, yet she’d chosen her new husband over me and never looked for me once after she threw me out for something he did.
Adeline had never been the warmest or most empathetic mother, but the callousness of her actions stung harder than I thought possible. No matter how harsh her words, it was supposed to be me and her at the end of the day.
Turned out, it was her and money. Or her and her ego. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was, I wasn’t and had never been first in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Max passed me. “Let’s go!”
I shook myself out of my trance and followed him. Now wasn’t the time to engage in self-pity. It was only a matter of time before Alastair discovered his money and prized jewels were missing, and we wanted to be long gone by then.
My stomach flipped when the exit came into sight. We were going to make it. Just a few more steps—
Crash!
My eyes widened in horror when Max bumped into a side table in his haste. The porcelain vase sitting on it toppled to the floor and shattered with enough force to wake the dead.
He stumbled and landed on the broken pieces with a curse.
“What was that?” Alastair shouted, his voice carrying through the house. “Who’s there?”
“Fuck!” I grabbed Max’s hand and dragged him up and down the hall. “We have to get out of here!”
He resisted. “The necklace!”
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the glittering diamonds lying amongst the jagged white shards.
“We don’t have time. Alastair’s almost here,” I hissed.
My stepfather’s angry footsteps grew louder. In less than a minute, he would catch us, and we could kiss our freedom goodbye unless he was in a forgiving mood.
Bile rose in my throat at the prospect of being at that creep’s mercy.
Max was greedy, but he wasn’t an idiot. He took my advice and abandoned his quest for the necklace.
I spotted a glimpse of Alastair’s thinning blond hair and furious face right as we flew through the back door, but I didn’t stop running until Max and I passed through the forest bordering the property and reached the side road where we’d parked our getaway car.