Julian kissed me on my cheek and turned on his side. He didn’t touch me, which was strange, now that he was back in our bed. We knew each other inside and out, and he knew that I always wanted to at least touch him as I fell asleep. We used to fall asleep holding hands. It helped me feel safe, wanted, and then six months ago it turned into this touch of possession and I’d hated it, like he was fighting to keep me by his side when he knew I was already pulling away.
I had almost forgotten what it was like to find peace in your sleep.
Except now I needed comfort and I didn’t know how to ask for it.
I turned to face him.
He was on his side and the bruises were barely visible.
And every muscle seemed to flex even in his sleep.
A thrill shot through me as I watched him.
I ignored common sense, I ignored rational thinking, and I just accepted what was lying in front of me, the man I would soon marry.
Julian sighed again. I knew he was exhausted. After the pizza, he had lain on the couch and gone over document after document that I knew he’d already memorized. He reminded me that his memory was fuzzy.
So I’d gone to bed and stayed there.
I reached to touch his face and was surprised when his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. He brought that same hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my fingertips. “Change your mind about the voodoo doll?”
I smiled as his eyes opened. They crinkled sexily at the sides, and his smirk was playful like he was getting ready to pounce on me and kiss me senseless. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I watched his green eyes smolder, lock onto my mouth, and then onto my eyes. “Well?”
“I was just thinking.”
“Thinking’s completely overrated,” he said quickly. “Thinking is what gets us into messes we can’t get out of. The best decisions in life are made from the heart, from the soul, from the place that most people refuse to listen to anymore.”
I gaped. “This coming from the man who overthinks and analyzes everything.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He licked his full lips. “Some things change. Maybe nearly dying’s caused me to rethink a few things.”
“Ah-hah, you said think,” I teased.
He kissed my fingertips again then pulled my arm around his shoulders. He gripped me by the ass and tugged my body flush against his. “Guess what I’m thinking now.”
I gulped and tried to insult him. “You’re thinking about mergers, portfolios, money.”
“Who in their right mind would be thinking about money right now?” He chuckled low in his throat. “I have a beautiful woman staring at me while I try to sleep. I’m not thinking about anything except you. That’s the truth.”
“Me over money. I have to say it’s been a while.”
“Pathetic that it should even be an issue, right?”
“Right.”
“Izzy?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t overthink this moment, alright? Don’t overthink anything, just exist today. Hell, wait to use your brain for at least another year, just be present, with me.”
I stared him down. Who was this man? Had Julian come back to me? Had he realized that life was too short to constantly worry about what people thought? About money? Image?
“I think”—he leaned in and kissed my chin—“that you’re doing it again.”
“Sorry, I just . . .” I dug my hand into his thick, dark hair and started playing with it, remembering how he used to let me touch him while we lay in bed, and all the years that followed where he wasn’t even in bed with me anymore. “You’re different, I’m trying to adjust, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, like any minute I’m going to do something wrong and you’re going to snap, and this is going to be gone and—” Oh God, I was going to start crying again. “I just can’t . . . I don’t know what to do, just tell me what to do.”
“Damn it.” He wrapped his arms around me and turned me onto my back as his body covered mine. “That’s not what I wanted to do. I don’t want you to doubt. Like I said, we still have a wedding to get through, a life to live.”
“What happens after the wedding, Julian?”
His expression shuttered and he looked away, face filling with rage. “We’ll figure it out, together.”
“Promise?”
“I swear, this man that I am now won’t abandon you.”
I exhaled in relief. “And you’re not going to get mad if I wear flats?”
His laugh did funny things to me as he ran his fingers through my hair. “Wear whatever you want, just make sure you have clothes on, because the last thing we need is for me to end up in prison over you walking the streets naked.”