Julian's Pursuit by Haleigh Lovell Read Free Book Online Page B

barbeque-scented candles.”
    I laughed. “Why would you want to smell flowers when you can smell barbeque ribs twenty-four-seven?”
    “Re-gift pile,” she said. “Now what about you? What’d you get?”
    “Well,” I said, “let’s find out.” As I tore into the wrapper, I could feel Tim and his pack of rowdy friends silently watching me, their daggered eyes boring into my back.
    A cold rivulet of apprehension trickled across my shoulders and goose bumps unfurled along my arms.
    But alas, it was too late.
    I’d already unwrapped the gift to reveal a box of leather bondage cuffs—ankle and wrist restraints—along with a studded leash.
    I turned in my seat, and Tim raised his glass at me, his mocking tone setting my teeth on edge. “A perfect gift for a woman who likes to be in complete control.”
    The men at his table roared their approval at the show, and more than a few curious glances drifted in my direction. I suddenly felt like I was in one of those dreams where you show up to class naked.
    My stomach lurched while I struggled to keep my poker face.
    Rochelle laid a hand on my shoulder. “You all right?” Her voice barely penetrated the fog suddenly surrounding me.
    Anger burned down my throat. I swallowed, striving hard for composure while managing a curt nod.
    Rochelle’s expression turned stern. “You want me to take care of that pond scum? He’s just a pussy who hides behind his entourage of man-boys. He needs to grow some fucking hair on his balls.” When I remained silent, she hesitated. “Hey. You sure you’re okay?”
    My heart was hammering in my chest, but I forced a slow, dismissive smile to my lips. “I’m fine.”
    Meanwhile, the men at Tim’s table were still chuckling with glee.
    “C’mon.” Rochelle’s voice was gentle, coaxing. “Let’s go outside. Get some fresh air.”
    “No!” The force of my refusal surprised us both. I couldn’t bear to feel weak and frightened in front of Tim. “I’m all right,” I said. “Really, I am.”
    While I’d become the immediate object of ridicule, Tim was enjoying every second of it. His perverse pleasure was tangible as he chewed on his puffy lip, watching me with unsuppressed mirth, like he expected me to crumble to pieces or bolt—likely both.
    But if Tim thought he could throw me off balance, I wouldn’t let him. I refused him the satisfaction.
    Whatever Tim expected me to do, I intended to do just the opposite.
    Like all holiday parties from the previous years, cringe-worthy karaoke followed the Secret Santa gift exchange. Taking a steely breath, I marshaled every fiber of inner strength I possessed and forced myself into a state of calm.
    Then I stood and weaved my way through the maze of tables, mounted the steps up to the stage, and asked the DJ to play Somebody That I Used to Know .
    Gotye was a master of addicting hooks and melodies, and that song, with its psychedelic mixed harmonies and beats, was one of my all-time favorites.
    I stepped up to the mic, and my gaze tracked over the tables and the people milling about the floor, landing at last on Julian, who was standing alone in a corner.
    He pinned me with his stare, encouragement and warmth dancing in his eyes.
    Then the DJ dimmed the lights and a sort of soporific mood descended upon the room. It did little to help my nerves, and I took a deep breath, filling my lungs like I hadn’t taken a full breath in weeks.
    The intro music started playing, and my hands were shaking so hard that I clasped them around the mic stand in an attempt to steady myself. Soon, the lyrics appeared on the monitor, and I heard my voice quivering on the first two lines. As the song progressed and the tempo picked up, my voice rang out with more confidence, more strength, and more clarity.
    Then the tone shifted, and I stopped watching the words scrolling across the monitor, and allowed myself to look out into the crowd. Rochelle was bobbing her head to the beat. Riley and some girls from