Chapter 6 The Secret

Eleanor's POV

My face was burning. "That was my first kiss too! And it only happened because we were both drunk!"

"I wasn't drunk." His smirk widened. "You were. I was stone-cold sober."

I threw a pillow at him. He caught it easily.

"So how about this," he said. Leaned forward. Eyes locked on mine. "Be my girlfriend. That way, we're even."

My mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

He shrugged. "Half serious. But hey, it's not a bad idea, is it?"

I stood up. Too fast. The room spun again. I grabbed the bedpost.

"Julian, don't push your luck." I tried to sound firm. "This was a mistake. It won't happen again."

His smile faded. Something shifted in his expression. But it was gone before I could read it.

"Okay," he said. Quiet now. "If you say so."

I turned toward the door. Needed to get out of here. Needed to—

"Elle."

I stopped. Looked back.

He was standing now. Hands in his pockets. Looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite name.

"Last night," he said slowly. "You kept saying a name. Do you know whose name it was?"

My heart stopped. "What name?"

He held my gaze for a long moment.

Then he shook his head. "Nothing. Forget it."

I wanted to ask. Wanted to know.

But I was too afraid of the answer.

I turned back to the door. Reached for the handle.

That's when I heard it.

Footsteps in the hall. Getting closer.

Then a knock. Loud and sharp.

"Julian? You in there?"

Blake's voice.

I froze. Hand on the doorknob.

Blake continued. “Arthur says she's not in her room. He mentioned you might have put her in the room next door last night? Is she still there? We're really concerned about her."

I looked at Julian. Eyes wide. Panic rising in my chest.

He moved fast, pulled me behind him, and cracked the door open.

"Don't," he mouthed.

He rubbed his nose. "Yeah, we came back together. She was pretty drunk and wouldn't go to her own room, so I put her up in the room next door to mine. She's probably still knocked out. I'll go check on her in a minute. You head down first."

"Alright. But hurry up."

The footsteps faded.

I let out a breath. My knees felt weak.

Julian's hand was still on mine. Warm. Steady.

I pulled away. Stepped back.

"Julian, you can't tell anyone about this." My voice came out harsh. "Do you hear me? No one."

He tilted his head. "What if I do?"

I glared at him. "Then I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what?" He stepped closer. Voice dropping low.

I lifted my chin. "I'll make sure you regret it."

He laughed. Short and sharp. "Okay, Red. I'll keep your secret."

He paused. Leaned in just a little.

"For now."

I wanted to hit him. Wanted to scream at him.

But I couldn't. Because I needed him to keep quiet.

I took a deep breath. Smoothed down my dress. Ran my fingers through my hair.

"How do I look?" I asked.

He looked me over. Slowly. "Like you got hit by a truck."

"Thanks." I glared at him.

"But a very pretty truck." He smirked. "Here."

He grabbed a hoodie from his closet. Tossed it to me.

"Put this on. Cover the... evidence."

I looked down. There were faint red marks on my arms where he'd grabbed me.

I pulled on the hoodie. It was huge. Smelled like him—a faint hint of lemon.

"Better?" I asked.

He studied me. Nodded. "Better."

I walked to the door. Pressed my ear against it.

Silence.

I cracked it open. Peeked out.

The hallway was empty.

My jacket was gone. Someone must have picked it up.

I slipped out. Moved quickly toward my own room.

Behind me, I heard Julian's door close.

I made it to my room. Locked the door. Leaned against it.

My heart was racing. My hands were shaking.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Messy hair. Swollen lips. Julian's hoodie hanging off my shoulders.

And underneath it all—the memory of his hands. His mouth. The way he'd looked at me.

You kept saying a name.

Had I? Had I said Arthur's name?

I didn't know. Couldn't remember.

I stripped off the dress. Threw it in the corner. Put on clean clothes.

White cashmere sweater. Jeans. Pulled my hair into a ponytail.

There. Normal. Like nothing happened.

I took a deep breath. Opened my door.

When I reached the living room, it was full of people.

Wyatt and Blake were sprawled on one couch. Zach was making coffee in the kitchen. Chloe was curled up in an armchair, looking worried.

They all turned when I walked in.

"Elle!" Chloe jumped up. "Are you alright? How come you didn't sleep in your original room on the second floor." She leaned in closer. "Wasn't that the spot you so carefully picked out?"

I forced a smile. "I got drunk last night." Images of me pulling at Julian's clothes flashed through my mind, sending a wave of heat rushing to my face.

I looked away quickly, trying to compose myself. "Julian helped me into the room next to his.

Chloe studied me. I could see the questions in her eyes.

But she didn't push. Just squeezed my hand.

"Arthur and his girlfriend are upstairs," she said quietly. "They were acting all concerned about you, but honestly, I can't stand either of them. He's the one who drove you to drink like that last night. Arthur only pretended to care when it was already too late."

She added，“I think... it's time you moved on. And honestly? Julian's way better-looking and a hell of a lot more interesting than boring old Arthur."

Arthur... really did just see me as a little sister. "I... I see. But Julian and I... Jesus, what made you even think that he and I... It's completely impossible."

"Elle."

I turned. Julian was coming down the stairs.

He'd changed clothes. Black turtleneck. Jeans. His hair was still damp from a shower.

The marks on his neck were covered.

Our eyes met. Held.

Blake suddenly spoke up. "Yo, Julian. What happened to your neck this morning? I saw scratch marks on it."

Everyone looked at Julian.

He didn't even blink. Just walked over to the couch. Sat down.

"Scratched it," he said. Casual. "No big deal."

"Scratched it?" Zach grinned. "Or someone scratched you?"

I felt my face go hot.

Julian shrugged. "None of your business."

Wyatt leaned forward. "Come on, man. Spill. Who's the lucky girl?"

Julian closed his eyes. Leaned his head back against the couch.

Blake suddenly sat up and pressed. "Wait. Julian, this morning when I knocked... was there someone in your room?"

My heart stopped.

Julian opened one eye.

His mouth curved slightly as he propped up one leg and said casually, "No one special. Just a wild cat that wandered into my room last night.”

He added, "I tried to carry it out, but it was quite temperamental and...scratched me." He then turned his gaze toward me, holding it for a moment before looking away.

I choked on air.

Chloe patted my back. "You okay?"

"Fine." I coughed. "Just... water went down wrong."