“It’s not too late to quit.” I leaned against the wall, keeping my eyes locked to hers in a silent challenge. “You’d have more fun spending your free time elsewhere. I’m sure there’s a poor sap who’s willing to fill in the gaps in your schedule if you’re bored.”
“I could say the same for you, Judgy McJosh.” Jules sipped her coffee out of my fucking mug. “Or have you run out of women who’ll fall for your bullshit? Unless you’re using the volunteer excuse to pick up women, which is just sad.”
I closed the distance between us in three strides and slammed my hands on the table hard enough to rattle the highlighters lined up next to her papers. I leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart and our breaths mingled in a cloud of animosity.
“Quit.” The word vibrated, taut and furious, between us.
Jules’s eyes glowed with challenge. “No.”
Her slow, precise enunciation ratcheted my blood pressure up another notch.
My knuckles dug into the hard wood as I fisted my hands on the table. My heart pounded so hard its drumbeat echoed in my head, taunting me.
I didn’t know why this one thing bothered me so much. Jules was the new research associate. So what? I didn’t come into the clinic often, and I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. Plus, hers was a temporary position. She’d be gone in a few months.
But the mere idea of her here, in my haven, drinking out of my mug and laughing with my friends and filling every molecule of air with her presence, made it really fucking hard to breathe.
One. Two. Three. I forced oxygen into my lungs with each count.
A few feet away, the fridge hummed, oblivious to the battle playing out in the kitchen. Meanwhile, the clock ticked its way toward the half hour, reminding me I should be long gone by now.
Shower. Bed. Blissful sleep.
They called my name, yet here I was, face to face with Jules, unwilling to wave the white flag in our silent war.
Even at this close proximity, I couldn’t spot a single flaw in her creamy skin. I could, however, count the individual lashes framing her hazel eyes and spot the teeny tiny mole above her upper lip.
The fact I noticed those things pissed me off even more.
“I thought you were all about corporate law. Big bucks. Prestige.” Each syllable came out cold and sharp enough to sting. “The clinic may not be as fancy as Silver & Klein, but we do important work here. It’s not a playground for you to mess around in until you leave for the ‘big leagues.’”
It was a low blow. I knew it even as I said it.
Jules probably needed a job to tide her over until she passed the bar exam, and there was nothing wrong with that.
But my frustration—over my father, over Alex, over the empty, gnawing feeling in my chest that had plagued me for more nights than I cared to admit—turned me into someone I didn’t recognize and didn’t particularly like. Normally, I could pretend I was the same carefree guy I’d been in school, but for some reason, my mask never lasted long with Jules.
Perhaps it was because I didn’t care whether she saw the worst of me. There was a certain liberation in not giving a shit about what other people thought.
“How like you to assume the worst of me.” If my voice was cold, Jules’s was an inferno, incinerating the sharp edges of my irritation until only the ashes of shame remained.
“What, you think I’m going to swan in here every week, push a few papers around, and pretend to work just because I’m a temp? Newsflash, asshole, when I commit to doing something, I do it well. I don’t care if it’s a big law firm, a nonprofit, or a fucking lemonade stand at the end of a dead-end road. You’re not better than me just because you’re a doctor, and I’m not the devil just because I want a high-paying career. So you can take your sanctimonious attitude and shove it up your ass, Josh Chen, because I’m over it.”
Silence blanketed the room, broken only by Jules’s ragged breaths. Her earlier cool had evaporated, replaced with flushed cheeks and blazing eyes, but for once, I didn’t take pleasure in riling her up.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I was too stunned to formulate an appropriate response.
Jules and I had exchanged more barbs than I could count over the years. She always gave as good as she got, but what happened just now…if I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn she was actually hurt.
A hot poker of guilt stabbed at my chest.
I straightened and rubbed a hand over my face, wondering when the hell my life had gotten so complicated. I missed the days when Jules and I insulted each other with zero guilt or remorse, when my sister wasn’t in love with my ex-best friend, and when my best friend had still been my friend.
I missed the days when I was me.
Now here I was, about to do something old Josh would’ve rather cut off his arm than do.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I finally conceded. “It was a low blow, and I…” A muscle worked in my jaw. Dammit. “I’m sorry.”
I spit out the words. It was the first time I’d ever apologized to Jules, and I wanted to get it over as quickly as possible.
Just because I did the right thing didn’t mean I had to like it.
I braced myself for Jules’s gloating, but none came. Instead, she just stared at me like I hadn’t spoken.
I forged ahead. “However, the clinic is important to me, and I don’t want our…differences to get in the way of our work. So I propose a truce.”
Proposing a truce might as well be surrendering, but I refused to let our animosity poison my time at the clinic. Everywhere else, fine. But not here.
Her brow wrinkled. “A truce.”
“Only when we’re in the clinic.” I wasn’t naive enough to think we could uphold any semblance of peace outside a work environment. “No insults, no snarky comments. We keep it professional. Deal?” I held out my hand.
Jules eyed it like it was a coiled-up cobra waiting to strike.
“Unless, of course, you don’t think you can do it.”
Satisfaction trickled through me when her lips thinned. I’d touched on a competitive nerve, as I knew I would.
She didn’t take her eyes off mine as she grasped my hand and squeezed. Hard.
Jesus. For someone so small, she was fucking strong.
“Deal,” she said with a smile.
I smiled back through gritted teeth and squeezed even harder, relishing the way her nostrils flared at the pressure.
“Excellent.”
Forget what I said about being bored.
This was going to be an interesting few months.
9
JULES
If someone had told me a month ago that I would willingly agree to a truce with Josh Chen, I would’ve laughed in their face and asked what they were smoking. Josh and I were as capable of acting civil toward each other as a tiger was of changing its stripes.
But, as much as I hated to admit it, his reasoning made sense. I took pride in my work, and the last thing I wanted was for my personal feelings to affect the workplace. Plus, I’d been so caught off guard by his apology my brain spazzed. I hadn’t been able to think straight, much less wade through what the consequences of a ceasefire with Josh Chen might look like.