CHAPTER 63: JULIAN FUCKING VAUGHN

Catherine’s POV

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The sound started faint but soon it grew louder and sharper, breaking through hammer strikes. My head jerked up from the textbook in front of me, and my pen froze mid-sentence.

I pressed my palms to my ears and groaned. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

A night before the exams and whoever was making noise wouldn’t let me focus.

My earbuds were gone. I had searched everywhere for them earlier, under my pillow, behind my lamp, even in my laundry basket but they chose to vanish from me the very day I needed them.

I tried to keep reading, but every new beat slammed against my brain. I read one sentence five times before giving up and slamming the book shut.

"Fuck this." I muttered, shoving my chair back. "Whoever that is, they’re dead."

The noise was coming from downstairs. I stomped out of my room and followed it through the hall, my annoyance bubbling higher with every step. The closer I got, the louder the sound became, with harsh breaths between each thud, a deep grunt, and solid impact that echoed through the walls.

When I finally found the source, I froze at the doorway.

Julian was in the small workout room, alone. His shirt hung open, half-buttoned but untucked, the sleeves rolled up. His dark, messy hair was damp, sticking to his forehead as he landed another vicious punch into the suspended heavy bag. The chains rattled with every hit, a metallic ring that filled the air between us.

This sight stole my breath.

His body moved with precision and control, every line of muscle under his skin flexing and releasing like something alive. Sweat beaded at his neck, trailing down to his chest, glistening under the light. His shoulders were broad, his arms corded with power, veins visible beneath his skin as he hit again and again, breathing hard.

He looked like he could break anything in his way. Including me.

My eyes moved from the ridge of his collarbone to the narrow curve of his waist. His back muscles tightened when he pivoted.

For a moment, I forgot why I came. My anger dissolved into something hot and dizzying, crawling up my throat like fire until his head slowly turned and his gaze met mine.

My stomach dropped.

He didn’t look surprised to see me; if anything, he looked unbothered. His eyes flicked briefly over me, then shifted away as if I were air.

"Of course," I muttered under my breath.

I stood there, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t. He turned back to the bag and resumed punching, the thuds growing harder, sharper, and deliberately louder, it seemed.

That was it.

I stomped inside. "Do you mind?" I shouted over the music. "Some of us are trying to study for our exams tomorrow!"

He didn’t say anything, just continued hitting the bag.

I folded my arms. "Julian!"

Not even a glance was spared at me.

Anger rose in my spine. "Are you deaf or just plain rude?"

Still nothing.

I walked closer, almost into his space. "Go ahead and ignore me but could you, I don’t know, maybe not shake the entire house with your tantrum?"

He finally stopped.

The bag swayed between us, creaking slightly. For a second, I thought he might finally respond but then, without a single word, he grabbed his towel and wiped his face, turned his back on me, and reached for his water bottle.

No glance. No response. Nothing.

My jaw dropped.

"Wow," I laughed incredulously like I didn’t feel hurt. "That’s great. I’m glad we can communicate like adults."

He didn’t even flinch.

Standing there made me feel stupid, so when he still didn’t look my way, frustration clawed up my chest, and I spun around.

"Fine!" I snapped. "Enjoy your noise."

And with that, I stormed out.

The second I hit the hall, I nearly collided with Gabriel. He was holding a glass of juice, looking entirely too calm for someone living under the same roof.

"Whoa," he said, catching my arm before I tripped. "What’s going on? You look like you’re about to murder someone."

"I might," I muttered. "Your brother has completely lost his mind. I’m trying to study and he’s— he’s being his nonchalant self, disturbing the house with his punches!"

Gabriel frowned slightly, glancing toward the room. "Did you let him know that he’s disturbing you?"

"I did," I scoffed. "But that moron enjoys making my blood boil. He ignored me!"

He chuckled softly. "Typical Julian. I’ll talk to him, okay?"

"Please do," I said, brushing past him. "Before I actually fail my exams and strangle him in his sleep."

I didn’t wait for his reply. I went straight back to my room, slammed the door shut, and threw myself on my bed.

As if my pillow was Julian, I landed a blow to it and yelled "fuck you, Julian!" How could one person get under my skin so easily? I hated that I even noticed how good he looked and how my brain took in every little detail of his body.

I flipped over and stared at the ceiling but the damn image wouldn’t fade. His movements. His breath. The faint tremor in his jaw when he was focused. The way the light hit his chest.

God, I shouldn’t have looked at him like that.

My heart beat faster, my thoughts slipping somewhere I didn’t want them to go. I pressed my palms over my eyes, trying to shut the image out but it was like pressing play on a scene I couldn’t stop watching.

Gosh! How it would feel, running my fingers over those muscles of his.

Then Julian’s voice rang in my head, low and rough. You’re so fucking wet.

I jolted upright, and my breath hitched as I blinked rapidly, my heart pounding.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself. "Catherine, you are a lost cause."

My fingers trembled slightly as I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm my heartbeat.

I swallowed, shut my eyes again, and curiously pulled my hand down, into my shorts and into my panties.

My eyes quickly spread apart. "Shit, I’m actually so fucking wet."

I didn’t know how it started but the next thing I found myself doing was something I have never done before.

My fingers were rubbing the walls of my pussy. I only stopped when my legs began to shake and it felt like I released something from there.

In that minute, sheer disgust enveloped me and I ran into the bathroom, continuously washing my right hand till the fingers I used for that dirty job, stopped smelling like sin.

JULIAN FUCKING VAUGHN, look what you made me do!