Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
JULIAN
Her hooded eyes look at me as she says, “Dare it is.” I swear my dick stands at attention, hoping he’s part of this dare. Down boy, or it’s going to be an awkward walk to the car. I’ve barely recovered from the kiss that totally rocked my world. I’ve tasted heaven, and I want more.
“You name it, I’m doing it, gorgeous.” I whisper in her ear and feel the goosebumps on her leg. I’m spurred on by the reaction her body has to me.
“Let’s go back to your place.” Her lips lightly brush against mine.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. As she finishes her drink, I settle our bill. Her giggles are almost as thrilling for me as her surprised face. I am excited to see the look on her face when we’re alone. I text Kat we’re ready to go home.
We walk out to the car, and she stumbles a little. I put my arm around her waist to steady her.
“I’ve got you, gorgeous.”
“I’m not used to heels this spikey,” she explains. Another giggle escapes her lips. Damn. I accidentally got my girl tipsy.
Kat meets us at the curb and holds the door open for us. I help Harper in and go to the other side. I’m reconsidering my plans, but I won’t take her back to Zac like this, so we’re going to my place. I pull her into my side, and she snuggles in.
“You smell good.” She puts her head on my shoulder, and I kiss her forehead.
It’s like that action reminded her of my lips, and she leans in for a kiss, and I gladly oblige. It’s not urgent like our first kiss, but softer, sweeter. She pulls away and giggles again.
“You taste like whiskey.”
“And you didn’t like whiskey?” Admittedly, their Old Fashioned was perfect. If she didn’t like it there, she’ll never be a convert.
“Not really. But it was missing a splash of Julian.” I laugh, and she joins me in her own joke.
I brush her hair back from her face and give her a quick peck. She’s crashing, the energy and fire leaving her body. “Settle in, and we’ll be home shortly.”
I love living in Manhattan. The food, the music, the people. It’s the best city in the world. Except for times like now. I hate this fucking traffic. It’s only about six miles to my place, but it’ll take forty minutes or so, according to Kat’s GPS on the dash. I put some soft music on and run my fingers through her hair. She’s quietly humming the Ed Sheeran song, her hum vibrating over my shoulder. After a few minutes, the humming stops. I’m not sure if she doesn’t know the next song, or she’s asleep. Either way, a warmth fills my chest, and I’m content. I can’t explain it, but her presence, her touch, is a balm to my soul.
Kat gets as close to the elevator as possible, parks the car, and opens my door. “You sure this is the right move?”
Kat’s question makes me pause. “Probably not, but it’s the only one I’ve got.” I pray the elevator is empty until we get upstairs. “Do you mind helping me?”
“I’m not sure I want to be an accomplice,” she teases.
“Some alibi you are.” I chuckle.
I gently extricate myself from Harper and slide my hands under her to carry her upstairs. She stirs in my arms and burrows her cheek into my chest. Kat helps with the keycard in the elevator and follows me into the apartment. Now is the decision. If I put her in the guest bedroom, she’ll wake up disoriented and alone. If I put her in my bed, she’ll wake up disoriented but next to me. Which will cause her less distress?
I look at Kat for guidance. Wordlessly, she walks to my guest room and turns the covers down. “Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”
I lay her down, and she doesn’t move. Kat helps with her boots and sets them at the foot of the bed. The rest of her clothes? Kat barely shakes her head. She’s probably right. Waking up in different clothes raises other questions I don’t want her to worry about. I’d never take advantage of a woman. Always the gentleman.
I put a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the nightstand, give her a little kiss on the head, and gently close the door. Kat’s leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking an energy drink from my refrigerator.
“Be careful, Julian,” she warns.
“I know.”
Kat eyes me, reading me like a book. “She’s got you going off script.”
“I know.”
She takes another sip of her drink and studies me. I let out a loud sigh and run my hand down my face.
“Go ahead. Say it.” Kat and I have been together for years. As my driver and my friend, she’s the keeper of all my secrets. Well, almost all of them. She’s seen me with numerous women over the years and never commented. Not once. But now?
“You’re falling for her.”
I glance over my shoulder toward Harper’s bedroom. “No, you’re wrong.” I try to act nonchalant, but when I turn and look at Kat, and she’s calling bullshit. Her arms crossed, head tilted, tells me she’s not buying it. Time to come clean.
Apparently, I’m not a slow burn kinda guy. Because I’m not falling. That’s ancient history. “How could I not? She’s so fucking hard to resist.” I bow my head in resignation. In real life, I’m an instalove man after all.
I wake up early the next morning, and she’s gone.