Tainted Hearts

E L E V E N

Monday night dinner is winding down, and with a final glance in the hallway mirror to check my makeup, I sprint down the staircase and make a beeline for the mustang. Julian relaxes in the driver's seat after honking the horn for twenty minutes straight. Upon opening the door, a gust of wind whirls through me and sends my special paper in my Diana ruffle bag into Julian's face.

"Dang it," I mutter under my breath as I settle in my seat and buckle in the seatbelt.

"The five things I need to do before getting married to my mortal enemy. Step one experience my first kis-" Julian recites, his irises scanning through the paper.

My stomach drops a few inches as I snatch the paper out of his grip. "What are you doing?"

Julian shrugs his shoulders. "Reading. It was rather interesting. I'm starting to understand why you enjoy books."

My eyes narrow into silts. "Hilarious! No one said you could read my private thoughts."

"Well," he drags out as he turns the key, the engine roaring to life. "You threw it at me, and it's hard to ignore something right in front of me."

"Really?" I ask dryly, tilting my head to the side. "Because you ignore me all the time."

"Only when I know it will bother you the most."

Bizarre. It's the only word I can think of to describe my living situation with Julian. For the most part, I'm stored away in my room, working on my displays or binge-reading a book series. Julian tries to stir up conversations at dinner, but I trust him as much as I can throw him, which is a millimeter.

I can't lie.

Sometimes at night, I have unholy thoughts about Julian-- alone in his bedroom. Can you blame me? I live and breathe books. Sue me, but I daydream of the possibility of Julian storming into my room, professing his feelings for me. It's embarrassingly juvenile! He hasn't given me an inky that there's something between us.

Books give me unrealistic expectations.

My beige button skirt rises up my legs, nearly displaying my entire thigh. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Interestingly enough, just like a romance book, the skirt is two sizes too small on my frame. I'm afraid if I arch over, my entire backside will be exposed in the club. Julian doesn't even spare a glance in my direction.

All his attention is on the highway, his veins flaring as he clenches his hands tight enough for his knuckle to turn white. Weird. Maybe he has road rage. I flick the passenger mirror down and dig into my purse for my lip gloss. All eyes will gravitate toward the cherry tint on my lips. With the bronze eyeshadow and innocent wing on the edges of my eyes, the lip gloss brings the entire piece together.

I pat my lips together. "Mr. Lui, I need your expertise in the men's department."

He cocks a brow. "You trust me enough to ask?"