Alive At Night (Wildflower Series Book 1)

THERE WAS SOMEONE IN my bed.

Fuck, had we slept together? Under my parents’ fucking roof?

I might have been going through the longest dry spell in the history of dry spells after that fling I’d had in law school, but had I really stooped this low? Was I this desperate for a hookup that I slept with a Whitebridge local, someone I risked seeing every time I returned to town?

The apple pie was too strong. Next year, I needed to tone it down a little bit. I drank more last night than I had in a long time. Janie found me in the garage, and I’d let her talk me into refill after refill while I listened to her college roommate drama. I’d needed a distraction, and it had worked.

But how I ended up with a girl in my bed was beyond me. I didn’t remember talking to very many people last night. My family.

Kennedy.

Juniper.

Shit, I was afraid to open my eyes and see who it was. She was soft, though—whoever she was. One leg draped over my hip, and hot breath warmed my skin as it hit a sensitive spot right below my ear. I nearly moaned from the feeling, wanting more than that tease.

Goddamn. If we’d fucked, how was I still this ready to go?

She just felt so good. Her weight was delicious, the perfect blanket for a chilly morning, and I tucked my head deeper into the crook of her neck. If I’d tasted her last night, then it wasn’t enough. Because hunger unraveled deep in my gut, a want I wasn’t prepared for. I let my lips brush soft skin as I nuzzled deeper into hair that smelled like—

My eyes flew open.

Roses. Her hair smelled like fucking roses, and it was the same smell that invaded my office every Monday through Friday.

Juniper was in my bed.

Juniper was in my bed, and I was tangled in her.

Juniper was in my bed, and she’d just gasped delightfully at the hint of a kiss—a kiss, for fuck’s sake—that I brushed along the curve of her neck.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Her head jerked upward at the sound of my voice, wavy dark hair flying everywhere. It was on my pillow. It was on me. Juniper squinted sleepily, and I ignored the pang of softness in my chest.

No, no, no.

“Julian?”

Saying my name aloud seemed to do the trick, to make the realization sink in, and then the air rang with her ear-splitting squeal.

I clapped a hand over that mouth of hers, but noises still flooded out, so I rolled us over, pinning Juniper down on the bed and giving her a glare. A glare that said shut the hell up.

“Greg Kennedy isn’t the only one who’s going to think we’re fucking if you don’t quiet the fuck down,” I hissed. “Do you want my entire family to burst in here?”

A gasp and then silence. Those brown eyes grew wide as Juniper shook her head aggressively. It caused her body to wiggle a little beneath me, a reminder that my body did not need.

I didn’t think Juniper’s eyes could grow even rounder, but they did a moment later, and I knew she felt my erection. Pressing right into her soft stomach.

Fucking hell.

That was not an erection meant for her. It was an erection meant for the mysterious woman draped over me, whose breath had grazed my skin as I woke up, thinking we’d fucked.

Now that my brain was clearer, I knew there’d been no fucking.

I’d remember sex with Juniper St. James.

Frankly, I was afraid to move. Any tiny movement would make my situation worse. Even though this erection hadn’t started as something meant for Juniper, it sure was appreciating the fuck out of her now.

I lowered my hand slowly. At the very least, it would help if her full goddamn lips weren’t pressed into my palm. But that had been wishful thinking; now, those lips were parted in some kind of wondrous expression, and my cock pulsed with the need to see if I could get her to open them more. To see her breath hitch, her jaw drop.

But I restrained myself. I didn’t move.

Juniper did, though. She scooted up in the bed beneath me. Which was all fine and whatever, except she still wore her Halloween costume, and her shirt was bunched beneath my bare chest. And then my skin brushed her skin. Heat on heat. But it wasn’t nearly as mind-boggling as when my erection fell between her legs as she settled in her new position.

She gasped.

And there it was—that expression my cock had wanted to see.

Juniper wiggled again, but I grabbed her hip with one hand.

“Stop,” I rasped. “You can’t—just stop.”

She did. She froze, all except her eyes. They darted around my face. That gaze was hot as it traced the outline of my mouth and then up my nose to my eyes. Oh, hell, Juni.

I’d promised myself that just because I told Kennedy I was fucking Juniper didn’t mean I got to think about fucking Juniper. I’d spent many, many years distinctly not thinking about fucking Juniper. And that wasn’t going to change.

At least, I hadn’t been planning for it to change.

But I also hadn’t been planning on waking up to find her on top of me. I hadn’t planned to pin her to my bed. I hadn’t planned on her moving beneath me until she had my cock positioned just right. It was almost like she wanted it there.

And the way she was looking at me—God, the way she was looking at me made it really hard to keep my shit together. Juniper St. James wasn’t supposed to look at me like that.

“Julian,” she whimpered.

That got through to my brain. That little plea—or whatever it was. In a single swift movement, I flung myself off her, sprawling on my back instead. Only once I regained control of my breathing did I turn onto my side to face her, feeling angry and wildly aroused.

“How?”

Bewilderment passed over her face. “How?”

“How did you pass the Massachusetts Bar when you can’t even count the doors in this goddamn hall?”

Because I knew that was precisely what had happened.

“It’s your fault,” she groaned, rolling over to leave me staring at her backside.

Very unhelpful.

“My fault?”

“You made the apple pie, didn’t you?” Her voice was muffled against my pillow.

I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t jumped out of my bed yet. She hadn’t scrambled away and out of the room. But I shoved that thought down. Deep, deep down.

“I told you to take it easy with that stuff.”

“Well, I didn’t,” she snapped, abruptly pushing away from me. Ahh, there she was. There was that escape I’d been expecting.

It couldn’t happen, though. Before she could get very far, I circled her waist and pulled her down again. Her back collided with my chest. “Where do you think you’re going, Daisy?”

“Home.” The word squeaked out of her.

“How are you getting there?”

“I’ll go wake Gemma.” She squirmed, but my grip was firm. For her own good. “Or someone else.”

“Gemma probably thinks you went home last night,” I pointed out. “What’s your plan when she asks why you’re still here? Where you slept?”

Juniper relaxed with a heavy sigh, convincing me to let go. Put a little space between us. Some much-needed space.

“You’re right,” she said.

I perked up. “What was that?”

I could feel her scowl, and my lips twitched.

“You can give me a ride home, then.” She glanced back at me, and a teasing smile lit her face, illuminated further by the soft glow of dawn. “It seems to be one of your favorite things, after all.”

“I don’t know about that,” I grumbled before rolling out of bed anyway. I’d take her home; God knows I couldn’t keep having this conversation while lying in bed with her.

“We can take Noah’s motorcycle,” she said, and hell, was that hopefulness in her eyes? I didn’t understand it. Didn’t know why the hell she thought that was a good idea after what had just happened. The idea of Juniper wrapping her arms around me from behind while we huddled together on Noah’s bike was a torturous one. And it wouldn’t be happening.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that sounds loud, cold, and uncomfortable. I’m hungover and need at least two more hours of sleep. The last thing I want to do is get on that bike.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t precisely the truth, either. Parts of my body were aching, but I wasn’t convinced it was from alcohol.

Trying to ignore the urge to check Juniper’s reaction, I turned and focused on finding a shirt. Spotting an old football tee on the top shelf of my closet, I threw it on before facing Juni.

She was still awfully close. None of the rooms in this house were very big, and because I got my own room—not all of my sisters did—I also had the smallest room. Fair was fair, and I had no complaints. Except now.

Because even though I stood on the opposite side of the room from my bed, I was still within a few feet of Juniper St. James while she curled deeper into my bed, wearing nothing but her Halloween costume.

At least she’d pulled up the blanket now—the plaid comforter my mom bought for me in high school wrapped around Juni’s shoulders. But Christ, I needed to get her out of here. She didn’t belong here between my football trophies and the college textbooks I didn’t know what to do with. I’d spent a lot of energy over the years making sure she didn’t come anywhere close to where she was right this very second.

Never again. I would never make apple pie ever again. I’d find a new festive drink for next year’s party.

“Come on,” I said. “I’ll drive you home. In a car.”

She raised a brow. “You don’t think anyone will see?”

“Usually, I wake up to my mom grinding coffee. That hasn’t happened yet, so I bet she’s still asleep. And if Mom’s asleep, everyone’s asleep.”

“Hmm.” She made a purring noise in the back of her throat. “Sounds like you’ve done this before. I’m not the first girl you’ve snuck out in the morning, huh?”

Not the first, but it definitely wasn’t a common occurrence. I tried to keep girls very far away from this house, and for good reason; my family could be overbearing, and the walls were guaranteed to be thin—a problem when the women I brought home weren’t quiet.

“Juniper,” I growled, not wanting to have this conversation with her. “Let’s go.”

Whether it was the use of her full name or the tone of my voice, I couldn’t be sure, but she sprang right out of bed.

As suspected, the house remained quiet as we tiptoed through it. Which made sense, considering I checked my phone to find it was six o’clock in the morning. Six o’clock in the morning. On a Sunday. Why had I thought I would get any sleep this weekend? I should have known it’d be a lost cause as soon as a certain brunette with brown eyes and a forest-green beret appeared in my living room.

I sighed as Juniper slipped into the front seat of the car.

No rest. Not ever.

Twelve hours later, I was back in a car with Juniper. And Gemma.

Thank God Gemma was here, too.

Very little happened between Whitebridge and Boston, and I had no complaints about that. An uneventful evening was the best I could wish for at this point. Gemma had an early morning skating practice tomorrow, so she planned to stay at my place tonight, saving us a stop in the suburbs. We pulled up to Juni’s apartment building a little after 8:00 p.m., and I swiveled in my seat to look back at her.

“What day do you want to stay late to work on the case this week?”

While I’d made some exceptions this month, I didn’t typically like making plans last minute. I liked figuring shit out ahead of time so I could puzzle together all the other parts of my life—running errands, hitting the gym, socializing. Spur-of-the-moment plans always put me off-kilter. Probably explained a lot of how I’d been feeling lately.

Juniper thought about it for a moment. “Noah’s coming over Wednesday, so maybe Monday or Tuesday?”

Noah. My expression quickly dipped into a scowl. Because Noah. Or, more specifically, Noah going over to Juni’s place. Juniper talking about Noah. Noah and Juniper.

But there was no time to get stuck on that at the moment.

“I’m working on your brakes tomorrow,” I reminded her.

“Right.” Juniper glanced out the window before concluding, “Tuesday, then.”

“Tuesday,” I agreed, and she climbed out of the car, seeming more than eager to escape.

She’d been subdued the entire ride back. Not Juni-like. And while it had led to an uneventful trip that I shouldn’t bother second-guessing or caring about, I wondered why exactly that was. She might have been hungover and tired—like me. But…

I shook my head. It was nothing. Nothing but a 6:00 a.m. wake-up call and a bad apple pie hangover.

When we pulled away from Juniper’s apartment building, Gemma cleared her throat. “You’re working on Juni’s brakes?”

A nod. “Yeah, someone put shitty pads on them the last time she took it into the shop.”

“I see.”

That note in Gemma’s voice, I didn’t like it. Especially when she continued. And brought up Noah.

“And I take it you’re pissed that she’s hanging out with Noah?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from replying too quickly. “Who said I was pissed?”

Gemma snorted. “Your face.”

“I’m gonna make you walk home,” I threatened, feeling the urge to pull over and kick my sister to the curb.

“You won’t,” Gemma said proudly.

She was right.

I wouldn’t.