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“How could I not?” I asked, nodding my thanks when he handed me the glass of wine. “Please tell me you’re not too jaded to ever come out here, because if that’s the case, I might actually have to smack you.”
Julian laughed. “I’m out here often, actually. Generally when I can’t sleep.”
“So, what, you come out here in your velvet robe with a glass of Scotch and gaze out at Gotham like Bruce Wayne?” I grinned.
Julian smirked. “More like a pair of sweatpants, a book, and a glass of water.”
“Mm. That’s an even sexier image,” I said as Julian gave me a low, sexy, kind of tired laugh. Something about it compelled me to snuggle into his chest and close my eyes. It was quiet for a moment as we just breathed against each other, both of us exhausted, but neither of us sleepy. Julian was first to break the silence.
“I have a proposal for you.”
I peered up at him. “Hm?”
“I want you to stay home from work tomorrow.”
I frowned and pulled slightly back. “Why?”
“Because I want you to stay here,” Julian said, his mouth curving into a grin when I arched my brows in surprise. “I think I took a page from your book and developed a vivid fantasy while we were in Biarritz.”
“Oh? What fantasy?”
“Coming home to you after a long day of work.”
My heart practically sang.
“Julian Hoult,” I feigned shock. “That is filthy.”
“I’m aware.” His gorgeous lips spread into an irresistible grin. “I’m a bit of a sick fuck, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Mm, totally. So, tell me more about this fantasy. What am I…what am I wearing in it?” I asked scandalously, sipping my wine. Julian laughed hard enough to give me the eye crinkle. God, I loved the eye crinkle.
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“Honestly, I imagined everything. A robe. One of my shirts over a pair of your panties. One of my hoodies – ”
“You own hoodies?” I gasped teasingly.
“Two.”
“Let me guess, one is an Empires American League Champs hoodie.”
“Correct,” Julian smiled. “The other is from my days at Columbia. Probably haven’t worn it since I was nineteen.”
“It’s weird to think that you were ever nineteen.”
“Not at all sure how to take that.”
“You just seem like you were always a wise, ridiculously handsome grown man,” I giggled. “So in some way, that was a compliment.”
“Thank you then,” Julian grinned, pulling me back into his chest, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head. Gah.
Another tiny thing I fucking loved.
At night, when we slept, we did the same dance we did our last night in Biarritz – Julian sat up reading while I lay next to him, our pillow talk winding down to a sleepy murmur as I slowly dozed off, lulled to slumber by the sound of his flipping pages.
Again, I woke in the middle of the night to find him still sitting there, awake and reading with one knee up and his arm resting over it.
“Can’t sleep?” I murmured, my eyes still half-closed. I felt his fingers gently comb through my hair.
