Page 50 of Julian

“No,” I say.

Her eyes sharpen. “No?”

“No,” I repeat, a little more certain now. “He’s not.”

Abby sits back, satisfaction flickering across her face. “Okay. Let’s review.”

“Don’t,” I warn, but it’s weak.

“He seeks you out.” She counts on her fingers. “He invites you to things he absolutely does not have to invite you to. He pays attention to your life, your brother, what you care about. He makes you feel ‘seen,’ which, by the way, is not by accident from what I can tell.”

I press my lips together, because when she says it like that—

“He likes you,” she finishes.

I shake my head, but there’s no conviction behind it now. “You don’t know that.”

She stares at me. “Harper.”

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “I don’t know,” I mutter.

“You do know. And you know what I also know…”

“That I like him too?” I say.

She smiles and I blow out a breath, half laughing, half defeated. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably,” she agrees.

I look at her, incredulous. “That’s it? That’s your guidance?”

She lifts her glass, takes a slow sip, then calmly sets it down. “My guidance is that you don’t get a lot of men like that in your life.”

“That doesn’t make it a good idea,” I argue.

“No,” she says. “But it makes it a real one. One you need to pursue.”

I stare at her, then look away, back out at the room and the blur of people and light and movement that is suddenly a little too sharp, a little too loud.

Abby nudges my arm lightly. “Say it again… you like him… and he likes you.”

I shoot her a look. “Absolutely not.”

“Say it,” she insists, smiling now.

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real resistance left in me. Not anymore.

“Okay, okay,” I mutter, giving in. I glance at her, then away again. “I do think he likes me…”

Abby’s grin widens.

“And yeah,” I add, quieter this time, but no less certain, “I like him.”

I stare at my drink, trying to figure out where to go from here.

“Okay, but—” I start, then stop.

“What?” she says. “No. Don’t do that.”