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I jab my finger at his chest. “I’m in charge of you this week, and I’ve just decided we’re both sleeping in the bed because I know there’s no way you’re letting me sleep on the sofa and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep there.” I walk past him and claim the left side of the bed, dropping my purse on it. “I’m going to take a quick shower before passing out. If I try to hug you during the night, you should probably just go with it rather than waking me up to get me to stop because a tired Charlize tomorrow won’t be fun for either of us.” I look at him expectantly. “Are we good?”
His lips quirk. “We’re good.”
“Good.”
He’s halfway out the door of the bedroom when he turns back. “There was never any chance of me not running with it if you try to hug me during the night.”
Holy mother ofI don’t know what.
Is it hot in here?
18
Charlize
Islept like a baby.
I have no idea if I tried to hug Owen in my sleep, but I made it through the night without his dick accidentally falling in me. Poppy was wrong: accidents do not happen.
Owen’s in the gym when my alarm wakes me at 5:30 a.m. and thank goodness for that. It gives me the chance to wake up and center myself for the day without his presence causing my thoughts to jumble.
When I emerge from the bathroom at 5:50 a.m., wrapped in a towel, I hear Owen in the suite talking on his phone. I dress in the white blouse and black pencil skirt I selected for today, and then dry my hair. I’m halfway through doing that when it occurs to me that Owen needs to shower, so I unplug the hairdryer and take it out into the suite to finish this there.
“The bathroom is all yours,” I say when I find him in the living room.
He’s sitting on a sofa, dressed in his gym clothes, reading something on his laptop. When he glances up at me, a soft curse falls from his lips. Standing, he comes toward me. “How many blouses do you own with bows?”
I look down at my blouse. It has a collar that becomes two long ribbons of fabric that tie into a prominent bow at my throat. The bow then drapes down the center of the blouse. I meet his gaze again, and suddenly realize why he told me a blouse I wore last week was hell on him. The red ribbon. “You have a thing for bows?”
His eyes are all over my body, but mostly on the bow. “I have a thing foryouwearing them.”
And there goes all that centering I did while he was in the gym.
There’s not a calm breath to be found in me anymore.
While I scurry through my brain trying to find words to manage him,because that’s my one and only job here and I’m seriously about to fail at it, there’s a knock on the door of the suite.
“Are you expecting someone?” I ask.
He nods and strides to answer the door.
A minute later, I’m looking at a selection of breakfast food Owen has had delivered.
I frown. “Don’t we have a breakfast meeting?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want you to starve if you woke hungry. I would have asked you what to order, but since you passed out quickly last night, I took the liberty and selected what I thought you might enjoy.”
And I’m lost for words again.
Owen was as exhausted as I was last night. Possibly more so. He stayed out of my way while I showered and got ready for bed. When I said goodnight to him, he told me he was going to do some work while I fell asleep. He mentioned something about giving me space. I thought that was considerate of him, but there he was being even more thoughtful, ordering me breakfast in case I needed to eat before our actual breakfast.
“Thank you,” I say softly as I survey the bacon, eggs, and waffles he ordered. “I appreciate it.” I have zero shame when it comes to food. I will happily eat two breakfasts today.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “Do you need anything from the bathroom?”
“No, I’m good.”
I fail spectacularly at keeping my eyes off him while he walks to the bedroom. Owen has a thing for bows; I think I might have a thing for gym clothes. I mean, if a man must be clothed, wearing things that don’t cover his arms or legs is my preferred option.
