Strange encounter...just strange.
“I'll get the other bags, Ms. Adams.”
That golden retriever smile...such a little suck-up.
Julian disappeared through the door with his permanent grin, and I glanced questioningly at Mum.
“Gentleman? Really? And how exactly do you know him?”
“Firstly, he's a really nice young man and secondly, I'm friends with his father Graham. We went to Vanderwood together,” she replied to me, reminiscing as she exposed the glass blue vase in her hands to my scrutinizing gaze.
Slowly, I began to realize that I knew little about my mother's past. Although she had spent half of her life here, she had not told me much about Vanderwood or Blairville until now.
Suddenly, a strange thought occurred to me: I wonder if she had met my father here. It was possible. But what would it matter? He had simply left us, and if he really wanted to have something to do with me, he would have contacted me.
I erased the thought as quickly as it had come.
“Thanks for bringing the groceries in.”
Mum now looked at me again, released from her rigidity of thought, winked at me and set the vase down on the kitchen counter to take the bag from me.
Apparently, I hadn't been able to do more than bring in this light thing. I had been embarrassed in front of Julian, not being able to lift the suitcase. Where was this guy anyway?
“Mum, where's my suitcase?”
“Julian put it in your room, don't worry.”
Julian had been in my room? Since when did my mother let random guys into our rooms just like that? She had always been so suspicious of my ex-boyfriend, David, when he spent time with us, even though he had been really okay before all the drama. And Julian was - at least for me - a damn stranger.
Just at that moment, he reappeared with two more suitcases under his arms and smiled in our direction.
“Where do you want them?”
Ooohh no, not this time, I thought to myself and took the initiative to do something about the pushy young neighbor.
“It's alright. I'll take these upstairs myself.”
With a put-on smile, I took one suitcase from him and gestured for him to put the other down.
His gaze had become more suspicious. But he decided, wisely, not to comment and went back to the front door. The presence of my mother probably made him a little uneasy.
“One more is missing,” he called out and disappeared outside.
Couldn't he just leave?
“Don't overdo it,” Mum warned, addressing me as if I were weak and frail. Then she turned back to the groceries.
“These aren't so heavy,” I told her with confidence.
Recklessly, I lifted Mum's first suitcase and carried it carefully up the stairs. Arriving at her room, I pushed down the handle and placed the suitcases in front of her bed. The room looked a little different from mine because she had a sloping roof with two windows. And it wasn't flooded with evening sun like mine, which was why I was already satisfied with my room.
I turned around and arrived in the hallway when I ran straight into a muscular male body. Startled by the warmth and hardness, I jumped back.
“What are you doing here again?” I hissed at Julian, overwhelmed, my gaze lingering on his broad, defined arms. Swallowing, I forced myself to look into his face.
“Your mother told me to bring these two...”
“Yes, thank you.”
I yanked my suitcase rudely from his hand and carried it to my room without letting Julian finish. He, in turn, had followed me and was now leaning in the doorway. His gaze was on me. I could feel it.
Was he watching me?
I turned and looked directly into his sparkling eyes.
“Tell me, what do you actually want from me? You can't tell me you're here to kiss my mother's ass. Am I somehow your type or what? If so, I have absolutely no interest in you.”
Julian's expression instantly stiffened. I had apparently scratched his ego with my words.
Satisfied, I smiled.
“You're definitely not my type, and I don't know what your problem is. I was just trying to be friendly,” he retorted harshly. “You're all so aloof, except for your mother. Is that such a witch thing?”
Of course... Just because a girl wouldn't let him flirt with her, she was called a witch. What else? This guy fulfilled the stereotype to such an extent.
“I didn't need any help, okay?”
He raised an eyebrow in response to my sentence.
