Zoella’s POV
Mason had just popped my hood open when the low growl of an engine caught my attention.
I turned towards the garage exit and caught sight of Julian’s black Maserati driving by. His windows were rolled down a bit, just enough that I glimpsed his side profile at the exact moment his eyes found mine.
It was just a second of eye contact, but it felt like he saw straight through me. His expression was closed off — no, not closed off, stormy — and for one stupid, traitorous moment, my stomach did that ridiculous swoop thing it always does when we see him.
Then he was gone, swallowed by the ramp’s curve.
I was left standing there, my breath stuck somewhere in my throat, trying to replay that look. Was he still angry? Why was he even angry earlier in his office?
God, he’d bee
