I dried off quickly, taking a little extra time to be careful with the fresh tattoo on my chest. The red rose had been my idea, but Owen designed it for me. It was far more intricate and beautiful than anything I could’ve planned for myself. Dark ink curled elegantly over my skin, and the petals were shaded so delicately that they almost looked soft beneath the bathroom light. The experience had been entirely unpleasant with the hours of pain, but the result had been worth every second. I loved having the reminder of him every time I looked at it.
The moment I opened the bathroom door, loud music from the kitchen spilled down the hallway and instantly pulled a smile from me. Discovering Owen’s habit of blasting music while he cooked has been one of my favorite surprises about living with him. He carried himself with so much composure out in the world that I never would’ve expected the man to sway around his kitchen every morning.
It became even more entertaining once I realized he danced as if no one was watching. Not that it mattered. He was an incredibly talented dancer and mesmerizing to watch.
And sure enough, I found him moving gracefully across the tile as he threw together breakfast. Naked.
That had also been a delightful discovery.
The man never wore clothes at home, not that I was complaining. Especially not when the morning light poured through the living room windows and bathed him in golden light. Every twist and turn highlighted his lean muscles in a cascade of shadows and sunshine. I was obsessed with the sight of him.
And it didn’t hurt that he had the penthouse on the twenty-first floor, meaning there wasn’t a single person who could see him in all his naked glory. That was all mine to enjoy.
The volume of the music concealed my entrance, and Ethel wove around my ankles the minute I stopped. I leaned against the island, smiling as I silently admired him. His graying hair was mussed up from sleep, and a dark towel had been tossed over his shoulder while he moved between the stove and counter with ease. His shoulders were relaxed, and his body flawlessly melted to the beat of the music.
I adored this version of Owen—the version that belonged only to me. The controlled, composed version of him that belonged to the Society had slowly vanished with time. What replaced it was a man full of warmth and laughter. The stalker thing didn’t vanish, but I wasn’t upset with that either. There was something reassuring and comforting about knowing how closely he kept an eye on me. It was never done with malice or judgment. Just security and concern.
Maybe I should’ve cared more than I did. Maybe it should’ve been a turn-off. But it wasn’t. If anything, it eased my anxiety to know there wasn’t a damn thing I ever had to handle alone. Not if I didn’t want to.
His handsome face lit up when he turned and caught sight of me. My heart stuttered in my chest like it did every time. Therewas something different about the smiles he saved just for me. His entire face softened with adoration and genuine happiness.
And no matter how many times a day he saw me, that smile never faded. That did something to me. I still wasn’t used to being someone’s favorite thing in the entire world.
“Are you ready?” Owen asked after shutting off the music. The sudden silence was almost disorienting.
“I’m still naked,” I said, intentionally being a smartass. He arched a brow, and that look he gave me was none too impressed. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to quit my job.”
“You should’ve done it eight months ago,” he retorted softly and returned to the stove.
Owen had pushed hard for me to quit my job after we got together. I didn’t need to work. Not really. He was more than capable of taking care of me, and I knew he would. Whatever I wanted, he was ready to give it to me.
However, the anxious part of me—the part that waited for the other shoe to drop, the part that waited for him to wake up and realize he didn’t want me—needed to keep the job. It wasmyjob. It was the only way I had to support myself if this thing between us didn’t work out.
If.
I kept telling myselfifand fought the urge to saywhen.
As much as I had wanted to believe that this thing between us was permanent, it took a while for my anxiety to catch up. For my mind to relax as readily as my body had with him. Convincing him of that had been difficult, but the compromise was for me to move in with him. If I was going to spend so much time catering to Mr. Jennings’s every whim, Owen wanted the opportunity to care for me in my off hours.
Over time, my anxiety waned. It wasn’t perfect, and there were still difficult days or restless nights where my thoughts spiraled too fast and too far. Every time they did, Owen met eachugly little fear with impossible patience. He loved me through every moment without hesitation. Some days, I struggled to understand how someone like him could want someone like me, but he was quick to reassure me and to show me otherwise.
“If it helps, I plan to just walk into his office this morning and quit,” I continued, purposefully ignoring his comment.
“I do wish I could be a fly on that wall.”
“You could come with me,” I offered. “Take me out for a second breakfast after. There could be mimosas. Wecouldskip the food and go straight to mimosas.”
“What about going straight to Spain instead?” Owen countered.
The question made me frown. Part of my quitting was so that we could travel. I had a bucket list of places I wanted to go, and some he hadn’t been to yet were added to it. I had shoveled away every penny I’d earned over the last six months as vacation money—something I could spend on him any chance I got. As much as he liked to spoil me, I wanted to do the same for him.
Just getting him to let me do so was an uphill battle. The man’s love language was extravagant gifts, lavish dinners, and long sweaty nights all rolled into one as he made me the center of his every moment. I wasn’t complaining, but I also wanted to treat him the same.
“I thought that was next month,” I said.
“I thought we could leave early. I’m dropping Ethel off with Ares once I drop you off at work. I have our private jet squared away, and your bag is packed—though it’s incredibly light because I plan to keep you naked as much as possible.”
I laughed. That sounded about right. Clothes had all but vanished from our relationship unless deemed necessary.
