Chapter 34
Cornelia
Iwake up to find TJ in my bed, his left arm draped around my shoulder while I lie against his chest, and Beardy made his way onto my other side like he used to.
I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t feel wonderful or that I didn’t just have the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.
This is far better than any melatonin gummy.
Still, we shouldn’t be doing this. Although yesterday’s me didn’t think it was a bad idea, at least we didn’t sleep together—well, we did, but I mean sex.
I try to slip out of his embrace without waking him, but I fail miserably. As I move, his eyes flutter open.
“Good morning,” I tell him, switching on the lamp on my bedside table, trying to sound casual. I’m not entirely sure it’s still morning. More likely, it has crept into the afternoon by now.
He stretches lazily, a faint, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “Good morning.”
He slowly pulls back the covers that have been draped over him, displaying all his muscles. He’s always been athletic, but I’ve noticed he’s been getting more muscular, and now I can appreciate it in all its glory. Every curve and line of his body looks sculpted in marble.
Why did I have to fall for someone with a six-pack? It’d be so much easier if he didn’t have one.
My face begins to flush. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I announce hastily, slipping out of bed and grabbing my phone from the bedside table.
I run towards the bathroom, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing redness in my cheeks. On the way, I nearly trip over one of my slippers but recover quickly. Once inside, I shut the door firmly behind me, leaning against it for a moment to steady myself.
What the hell was that? It felt like I’d suddenly turned fifteen all over again, and not in a good way.
All this awkwardness could have been avoided if I’d told him to stay in the blue guest room, rather than pretending I didn’t know which rooms were taken.
Of course I knew. I needed to, if only to avoid my uncle.
My grandmother is staying in my mother’s old room, since it’s the third largest, after Anthony’s and mine.
My aunt is in the guest room on this floor, and my uncle is in the yellow guest room on the third floor.
I finish my morning routine, and by the time I emerge from the bathroom, I feel more composed.
“The bathroom is all yours if you need to use it,” I say to TJ, who is still lounging in my bed.
“Thank you,” TJ replies, getting out of bed.
He passes by me, and our hands brush briefly. That quick touch feels so exhilarating. Fuck, why does he still make me feel like this? Why couldn’t he make me feel sick to my stomach instead?
I head to my closet and begin getting dressed.
I don’t have much planned for today, but I do need to run a few errands.
I need to pick up some suits I left at the tailor’s, as next week I’ll be joining Anthony at Monroe-Nodrick Pharmaceutical again.
I’ve been postponing it for a while, but it’s something inevitable.
I also have to collect some jewellery I left for cleaning at Jessica McCormack’s store in Mayfair.
I slip into a black turtleneck from Entire Studios with an asymmetric hem, pair it with Logan Wide-Leg Jeans from Rag other times, like now, I have no idea.
“What are you up to today?” Anthony asks me.
I open the fridge and start inspecting the contents. TJ leans against the other door, also peering inside.
“I need to pop over to the Jessica McCormack store in Carlos Place to pick up some jewellery and then head to the tailor to collect some clothes.”
“Your driver called. He’s still unwell, but you can take mine—or, if you wait an hour while I finish some work, I can take you myself, if you want,” he offers.
Anthony doesn’t like me being alone on the streets of London, so most of the time, I take my driver, Joe.
He’s not only a driver but also kind of a bodyguard.
Anthony, for a long time, tried to get me to have one because of the fame and because I tend to wear thousands of pounds worth of jewellery.
But I didn’t want one. One of the easiest ways to get recognised is to have a bodyguard trailing you.
If you don’t, people sometimes think you look a lot like a famous person, but you’re not actually them.
Since I didn’t accept his proposal, he hired an ex-Marine instead, who is six-foot-six.
I don’t need to be a genius like him to know he’s my unofficial, official bodyguard.
“Thank you, but I’m fine. TJ is taking me.”
“So, TJ is taking you, is he? Should I expect you both for dinner as well?” Anthony says, his tone the same one he uses when he’s picking on me.
I glance at TJ, and he just looks amused.
Before Anthony goes full-on annoying older brother, I turn to TJ. “You know what, let’s eat something at Carlos Place. I’m craving a patisserie from The Connaught.”
He just nods and follows me as I pull him away.
“Drive safely!” Anthony calls out to us.
“Of course, I have precious cargo with me,” TJ replies, and it makes me blush a little.