Claire tried hard to act natural.
But an unexpected wave of memories hit her like a truck—her eyes lost focus, cheeks flushed, and her brain just went blank.
Get it together, girl. Where the hell is your self-control?!
“A-Anyway, maybe it's better we don't drink,” she mumbled, tongue tangled.
Julian didn’t call her out, just obediently set his glass down. “Alright, no more drinking. Whatever you say.”
His soft “whatever you say” was like a spark—flicking at the corner of her heart, teasingly gentle.
Claire blinked, almost in a daze.
Her face turned so red, it was like she’d brushed on rouge.
Julian noticed the change and raised a brow. “You haven’t had a drop, Claire, but you sure look tipsy. Your face is burning up—sure you’re not coming down with something?”
