After I end the call, I find the photo of a half-dressed Vince Fong online. He’s a good-looking man who isn’t lacking in abs, but he doesn’t do much for me.
There’s a knock at the door and I drop my phone, feeling embarrassed that I’ve been looking at semi-naked pictures of Julian’s brother when I’m in Julian’s penthouse. It feels like cheating, even though there’s nothing going on between us.
“I have a T-shirt for you,” Julian says. “Can I come in?”
“Yep!” I call out, turning the phone over on the bedside table, although I’ve already closed the browser.
He steps into the room and I suck in a breath, willing my heart to stop beating so fast. He hands me a black T-shirt with a V-neck.
Mm. That would look good on him. He could make an entire calendar of himself, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, and I would buy it.
“Need anything else?” he asks.
“Uh, no,” I say, feeling a little flustered. Thank God he can’t read my mind. “I’m settling in just fine. Nothing else I need. Nope, nothing at all!”
He looks at me like I’m slightly deranged, then says, “What are the plans for tomorrow?”
“Plans? Um...” Then it comes to me. “Your problem is that you always need a plan, always need to know where things are going. You need to learn to be spontaneous.”
“Spontaneous?” He says the word as though it’s utterly distasteful.
“Yeah. You need to learn how to go with the flow and let someone else be in charge for a while. So even though I have some ideas, I’m not going to tell you what they are.”
The truth is, I don’t have any ideas. Hadn’t gotten around to that part yet.
Julian seems to accept my words.
“Have a good night,” he says before closing the door.
I breathe out a sigh and then change into his T-shirt. It’s a little big on me, but only a little. I’m not an adorable petite woman who’d be swimming in her boyfriend’s T-shirt.
Not, of course, that Julian will ever be my boyfriend.
But tonight I’m wearing his T-shirt, and it smells like laundry detergent with just a hint ofhim.
Chapter 7
