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She’s fucking gorgeous.
The thought hits Alex like an arrow as he sees Julia dappled in sunlight. The early morning rays that filter in through her half-drawn curtains give her an almost ethereal glow, and he can’t help but stare at the patterns of sunlight on her skin as she dozes off beside him. They’re lying side-by-side under the covers, and it’s almost funny how adorably harmless she looks when she’s sleeping—like she doesn’t spend half the time hurling playful threats at him—just her peaceful face inches away from his own and the steady rise-and-fall of her chest.
Julia takes his breath away.
It’s an I-need-oxygen type of situation (and Alex knows he has great cardio), but he isn’t ready to admit that out loud—he knows he’ll never hear the end of it—and mornings like these, where he wakes up all foggy and a little love-drunk in her bed become one of his favorite things.
Alex rolls onto his side, digs his elbow into the mattress and rests his cheek atop the palm of his hand as he stares at her. The jock isn’t fully aware of it, but he’s wearing that stupid little grin on his face (his grandpa always asks him what he’s smiling about when he wears that grin) as he imagines a future where he wakes up beside Julia every morning.
And in this imagined future, they do things he can only fantasize about…
They hold hands in public; they shop together at Pierre’s and buy that bottle of shampoo that makes her hair smell so Yoba damned good; they have weekly dinners with George and Evelyn, and on the weekends, they take Dusty to play frisbee on the beach. Julia wears a mermaid pendant around her neck because, in this little fragment of the future, she’s his.
And Alex can’t help but feel a little possessive as his eyes linger on her sleeping face, as they travel down the soft curve of her nape, the slope of her shoulders, her soft breasts peeking out from underneath the covers and… fuck, he can feel all his blood rushing south.
He doesn’t want anyone else to ever see her like this.
He doesn’t want her to call out anyone else’s name the way she calls out his, because Alex can still hear her voice in his ears, desperate and needy because she needs more, more, more.
It’s the kind of thing that makes a man’s chest swell with pride.
Julia cracks an eye open, and it takes Alex a moment to realize that he’s still gawking at her—that she’s eyeing that dumb grin on his face as he stares intently at her chest.
“Really, Alex?” Julia mumbles as she reaches for a stray pillow and catches him in the face.
Alex takes the hit like a champ, and doesn’t skip a beat, doesn’t care if it sounds cheesy or stupid because he’s speaking the truth. “What? Is enjoying the view a crime these days, farm girl?”
He pushes the pillow out of the way, gives her that lopsided little smile he knows she secretly loves. “Come on, I’m just a guy,” Alex jokes. “Can’t help it when there’s a pretty woman in bed with me.” And he opens his mouth, almost (half) jokingly suggests that ‘they go another round,’ but Alex surprises himself when he says something very different instead.
“Hey, you hungry?”
“You can cook?”
Ah, there’s that sass again.
“Hey!” Alex laughs. “Sure, gramma does most of the cooking, but I make a mean omelet. My protein shakes are a hit too, just ask Sam and Sebastian.” He waggles his brows, some of that signature cockiness simmering to the surface—like Alex is some sort of peacock trying to show off just a little. “Plus, after last night… I feel like you could use the extra energy today.”
His little comment sends heat rushing up her cheeks, and Julia knows she’s probably turning red when she sees that smirk on Alex’s face, that little half-grin he wears whenever he thinks he’s “won” one of their playful spats. She presses the palm of her hand playfully against his face to shush him, closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see him looking so smug.
“Fine, fine, just give me five more minutes.”
Alex doesn’t complain, contentedly wraps an arm around her waist as she snuggles into his chest.
It’s a side of Alex she’s never seen before, and Julia can’t help but stare (a little too hard) as he flips omelets over the stovetop in nothing but his boxers and an apron that’s far too small for him. She can see the scratch marks she left on his back and shoulders last night, can see the way the muscles of his back and arms go taut each time he grips the frying pan and does another flip.
Alex notices her staring from out the corner of his eye, and Julia realizes she’s fallen into a trap—that he’s been showing off on purpose… an extra flex here, a bicep curl there. Julia looks away embarrassed, focuses on the cup of coffee in front of her instead.
“What?” Alex laughs. “Cat got your tongue, farm girl? Like I said, it’s not a crime to enjoy the view.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” he snickers, and his smile is as infectious as his laugh. “You a hundred percent were.”
“I guess I can’t help it when that omelet looks so good.”
“Right, this omelet.” He laughs. “Because I’m pretty sure you were looking at another snack.”
“Don’t let it get to your head, jockstrap.”
“You’re welcome.”
Banter always comes easy with Alex; he makes butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach, and her heart does a little cartwheel in her chest because it’s fun, and flirty, and so, so easy.
But sometimes Julia wonders if there’ll ever be more to them than just this.
Alex interrupts her train of thought before she can dwell on that seed of a question for too long.
“Hey, Julia. You, uh, you doing anything later?”
“Nothing fun,” Julia answers with a playful scrunch of her nose. “You know, work.”
“Mind if I tag along or something?”
Julia arches an eyebrow at him, because she and Alex never really… hang out.
Well, at least not in the sense other people might interpret the word. Sometimes the two of them stand by the ice cream cart and bicker (or flirt aggressively as Haley calls it), sometimes they bake cookies (though that activity is always more for Evelyn and George than for Alex). Now that Julia thinks about it, they don’t really go out, out—unless they’re sneaking around and trying not to get caught as they shove their tongues down each other’s throats.
“You sure you don’t have anything better to do?” Julia asks. “It’s not going to be fun.”
Alex turns away from the stove, gives her a blank stare before he curls both his biceps. He flashes a pose like he’s some sort of statue, gives his left bicep a cocky kiss. “You seriously think these guns haven’t seen hard labor? Lemme help out, farm girl. I’ve got nothing better to do.”
He turns off the stovetop, sits across from her at the tiny kitchen table.
“It’ll be a good workout, besides—”
“And?”
Alex leans in close, all pearly whites and boyish dimples. “I wanna hang out with you.”
“Fine, fine!” His lopsided smile feels like an arrow through her heart.
“Plus,” Alex grins. “If I play my cards right and we get our work done early.” He can’t stop himself from smiling, waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “We might be able to squeeze in another round.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“One of the reasons the ladies love me.”
And Julia thinks he’s kind of cute when he’s being this way, just a goofball trying to show off. Maybe it’s one of the things she likes most about him—the fact that she never has to think too hard when she’s with him because (as long as she keeps Sandy out of her head) everything is easy, everything flows like water because it doesn’t take much to make Alex smile.
“Have you ever even milked a cow before, Alex?”
“No, but you said it yourself, I’m pretty damn good with my hands.”
“Uh-huh, forget I asked, we’ll start with gathering eggs.”
To Julia’s surprise, the work goes smoothly. Alex takes it far more seriously than she expects him to and (while he sometimes stops to flirt and chatter) her eyes can’t help but follow him as he lifts a hay bale onto his shoulder with ease, as he tackles the work with a certain enthusiasm that she can’t help but find endearing.
They get everything done earlier than expected, and by the time they finish loading up the shipping bin with the day’s produce and animal products, the sky above them is a burnt orange.
Julia half-expects Alex to leave—half-expects to watch that green letterman jacket of his disappear as he takes the dirt road back to Pelican Town. Instead, he spends a moment just standing beside her—their shoulders brushing together—before he breaks the silence.
“Hey, can I stay for a bit longer?”
The moment feels so… domestic, and it scares Julia a little, because she knows Alex doesn’t intend to stay in Pelican Town. A part of her already knows how this is going to end.
“Won’t your grandparents worry?”
“You think I’m 12 or something?” Alex snorts. “So, can I stay or not?”
“Yeah, there’s soda and leftover pizza in the fridge.”
They end up under the same blanket, standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the second-floor balcony. Julia and Alex are sipping on sodas, and it’s a peaceful night, just the two of them under the stars.
“You don’t get stars like these in the city,” Julia mumbles.
And Alex shrugs, because as mesmerizing as the stars above are; he finds that he’d much rather stare at her as she bathes in the moonlight, that he’d much rather stare at her smile.
“Do you miss it, the city?”
“Not really, no.”
He’s quiet for a moment, just looks at her before he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Cause when I make it big, I’ll take you to my games. I’ll make sure you have front row seats.” Alex feels a little embarrassed when he realizes what he’s said, but understanding he’s past the point of no return, decides to own it instead. He says it with all of his chest because he means it. He’s told her about his dreams more than once: stadium lights and the roaring of a crowd.
And Julia knows she’ll never leave the valley for a life in the city, but it’s a perfect night, and Alex is smiling that hopeful, boyish smile of his.
“Front row seats, huh?” She laughs, humors this little game of pretend.
“Nothing less.”
“Are you going to wine and dine me too?” She jokes.
“Of course, we’ll hit up restaurants in a limo and they’ll roll out the red carpet just for us.”
It’s not the type of future that Julia ever envisions for herself, but they’re having a good time playing pretend. It’s fun just allowing Alex to whisk her away with his words, to paint imaginary castles in the sky with his turn of phrases and playful promises.
“I guess it’d be a nice break from all the farm work.”
“Hell yeah, it would.” Alex grins. “Arcades, theme parks, sushi bars. I’d take you on real dates—” But he stops himself there, wonders if maybe he’s said too much. Alex wants more than what they have right now (realizes it in the middle of baking Yoba damned cookies, when he sees Julia making his gramma and grandpa laugh), but he doesn’t know if Julia wants the same. Not yet.
Maybe he’s the only one painting castles in the sky.
“Hey, Julia? If I asked you to run away to the city with me…” He tries to hide how nervous he is, because simply asking her leaves his palms cold and sweaty. “Would you want to?”
Like he’s testing the waters to see if she’ll give him an inch.
“Hypothetically, of course,” Alex adds, pretends it’s not serious. “If I ever make it big.”
And Julia doesn’t want to pop the bubble they’re in. Alex is smiling bright and warm like the sun, and he’s handsome when he smiles, so she says something she isn’t sure she means.
“Permanently? Probably not. I’ve got a farm to run, Alex.”
“Hey, a guy can dream, right?”
“For a week or two…” She smiles right back at him. “I don’t see why not.”
Alex doesn’t fully understand it, but Julia makes him feel soft in ways he’s never felt with anyone else before; it feels like he can shed his act, pour his heart out in little bits and pieces.
“You know, my dad used to make fun of the whole gridball thing. He never understood it.” Alex feels like he should stop there, but the words keep going. “Then again, I was a pretty scrawny kid. Maybe he thought I was going to get myself killed out on the field or something.”
“I’m sorry,” Julia whispers.
“Don’t be. If not for that asshole,” Alex chuckles. “I wouldn’t be as tough as I am today. Besides, I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He looks just a little nervous. “I have tryouts in a few months—”
“Alex, that’s great.” Julia knows he’s been working hard on his applications, and there’s genuine pride in her eyes as she playfully nudges her shoulder into his. “See, fuck your dad. What does he know? Guy’s a major asshole, and you’re going to do great.”
Alex’s heart melts in his chest. He really wants to kiss her, but for the first time, is too shy to just lean in and crush his lips against hers, because he feels just a little vulnerable, just a little raw. “Thanks, that, uh… it means a lot to me. I really wanna prove him wrong, you know?”
And he’s a little taken aback when Julia angles herself toward him, tugs him down gently by the collar of his letterman jacket and kisses him softly on the cheek. They’ve kissed countless times by now, but this one act leaves him feeling weak in the knees.
The words he’s been holding back for a while now catch in his throat again: I think I love you.
Alex wishes he were braver, but he can’t bring himself to say the words just yet. So, instead, he turns his head to the left and presses his lips against hers—allows his body to do the talking for him. Everything before had always been messy, hungry, a little desperate… and while there’s no mistaking the desire in his kiss, it’s softer than usual. Alex isn’t trying to rush, or show off like a peacock that needs to impress. He just tangles his fingers in Julia’s hair and kisses her slowly.
And when she leans into the kiss, Alex can’t help but think that maybe he’s dreaming.
If it’s a dream, he doesn’t want to wake up.