Violet sat stiffly at Julian’s side, pressed up against his thigh, uneasy with the closeness. Maybe it was guilt, maybe nerves.
Julian’s hand rested warm on her waist. The moment she’d walked into the room, he’d recognized her instantly. His eyes flicked over her outfit—cropped black tank, a vest thrown on top. And just like that, the booze haze cleared from his head.
This whole crowd was his usual pack of drinking buddies, dragging him out to “celebrate” his first day showing up at the office. Three bars later, he’d been force-fed round after round, surrounded by random girls someone had invited in. He’d been thinking of how the hell to make an exit—then Violet appeared.
Unexpected, sure. But the perfect excuse to ditch.
His palm burned hot from the alcohol as it pressed against her
