Chapter 22

They hadn’t escaped notice at the bar; a few of Julian’s co-stars approached and exchanged pleasantries, a few other acquaintances, even one or two people Rafi knew. Hollywood was a small world. Rafi decided against a fourth drink and ate some more instead, pressing a shrimp on Julian as well.

“Your uncle says you don’t take care of yourself,” Rafi said. “If I’m hungry, you probably are too.”

“Don’t,” Julian said, “quote my uncle at me.”

“Fine, I’ll quote my stepmother at you. ‘Eat what you’re given and be grateful.’”

Julian rolled his eyes, but ate the shrimp. With one eyebrow arched, hair escaping his ponytail in the whirling blue and purple lights of the club, he looked exquisite, like an elven prince in the lights of Underhill.

“Hold still a sec,” Rafi said, and pulled out his phone.

When he realized Rafi was taking pictures, Julian’s expression shifted, becoming resigned and almost amused. That looked even better.