Chapter 236

By the time Kylie returned to the living room, Christian had moved approximately six inches.

He was now lying diagonally across the pillow, one arm beneath his head and the other wrapped around the burgundy sheet. His hair looked even worse.

She stopped in the doorway.

There were moments when she genuinely wondered whether the universe had a personal grudge against her.

Because how was she supposed to remain sensible when the man looked like that?

She crossed her arms.

"Sir."

There was no response.

"Mr Sinclair."

He opened one eye.

Kylie smiled.

"I’m not a Sinclair." Christian blinked at her. His gaze moved over her face, paused for a moment, and then softened.

"Hi."

The word came out rough with sleep.

Kylie’s heart did another ridiculous thing. "Hi."

He looked at her for a few seconds. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Where were you?"

Kylie stared at him. "The bathroom." She glanced toward the hallway.

"You were gone for a long time."

"I was gone for three minutes."

"Four."

She gasped. "You counted?"

"No."

"Christian."

"I estimated."

"You estimated the time I spent in the bathroom?"

His expression remained entirely serious. "I woke up."

"And?"

"You weren’t there."

Kylie pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh, baby."

Something in his face changed at the endearment.

It was subtle. A small pause. The faintest shift in his eyes. His smile widened.

He looked like a very handsome problem.

Kylie approached him, still holding the sheet around herself. "You thought I’d abandoned you?" She teased him.

"No." He shook his head, refusing the bait. "I thought you’d gone to get water."

She looked at the glass on the table.

"I was thirsty." Christian glanced down, then back at her.

She stopped beside the pillow and tilted her head. "We spent the night on the floor of my living room."

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "So we did."

Kylie narrowed her eyes. "That’s all you have to say?"

"Would you prefer a written report?"

"With diagrams."

Christian looked at her for a long moment. Then he glanced toward the hallway. "You want to know how perfect you were while making a mess on me?"

Kylie’s smile faltered for half a second. "You dimwit."

Christian’s mouth twitched. "I could say I was overwhelmed by your beauty."

"You could."

"Or that the floor seemed like a reasonable compromise."

"It wasn’t."

Christian looked down at the sheet.

Kylie looked at him for a long moment. Then she sat down beside him.

The sheet shifted between them.

He looked up, and smiled at her, and she found herself looking at him a little too closely.

There was something different about him this morning.

Not dramatically different. He hadn’t transformed into another person overnight. He was still the same man with the same sharp mind, the same infuriating confidence, and the same talent for making her feel as though she had lost an argument before she even opened her mouth.

But he seemed less guarded. Perhaps it was the lack of a suit. Perhaps it was the terrible hair.

Whatever it was, she liked it.

She liked it so much that she needed to stop looking at him.

Instead, she looked at the ceiling. "Jesus, holy Christ."

Christian turned his head. "That’s quite a greeting."

"Once again, we did not use a condom." She sighed softly, and rubbed her hand down her face.

He went still for a fraction of a second. Then his expression warmed. "I believe we did not plan last night."

Kylie slowly turned toward him. "You believe?"

"I’d hate to make an unsupported claim."

She snatched the nearest cushion and hit him with it.

He laughed, catching the cushion before she could strike him again. "Violence before breakfast?"

She stopped.

The words had been easy. Light, and almost careless. There was no defensiveness behind them.

Christian simply held the cushion and looked at her.

Kylie lowered her hand. The air between them shifted again.

She looked away.

He set the cushion aside. "Is there something you want to say?"

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. Then she looked at him again. "Are you okay?"

The question seemed to surprise him.

"Am I okay?"

"Yes."

He considered it. "I’m tired. My back hurts."

"You’re on the floor, genius."

"And I appear to have lost the ability to convince you that I am a reasonable man."

"You never had that ability."

"Ouch." He whined playfully. Then his smile faded slightly. "Other than that," he said, "I’m okay."

She searched his face. "Really?"

Christian looked at her. "Really."

Kylie nodded.

He tilted his head. "Are you?"

She knew what he was asking.

Whether she was okay with him being here. Whether she regretted last night. Whether the morning had brought back all the reasons she had been afraid to let him close.

Kylie looked at their tangled legs beneath the sheet. Then at his hand resting beside hers. Then she looked at his face.

"I think so."

Christian didn’t immediately respond.

She appreciated that.

"I mean, I’m still angry with you," she added. "And I’m still upset."

"Speek freely, Blue."

"And I still think the entire press conference was completely insane."

His mouth twitched.

"You gave up your family name in front of the entire country." She held his gaze. "You announced it like you were resigning from a book club."

"I was aiming for a slightly more serious tone."

"Christian."

"Sorry." He cleared his throat.

She stared at him.

He looked back at her with an expression of such solemn innocence that she nearly threw the cushion at him again.

"You are not funny."

He touched his chest with a smirk waiting to spill out. "That’s devastating."

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, you’re not."

"Not entirely."

She groaned and covered her face.

Christian laughed softly.

When she lowered her hands, he was still watching her.

"What?" she asked.

His expression softened. "I’m grateful. I woke up and you were here."

Kylie stopped breathing for a second.

He could be ridiculous for five consecutive minutes and then say one simple sentence that made every sarcastic response in her head disappear.

She looked down.

"Well," she muttered, "it’s my apartment."

She nudged his shoulder with hers, to push every weird tingling feeling she felt in her.

He smiled.

Kylie let herself lean against him. Just a little.

Christian didn’t make a fuss about it.

He didn’t wrap his arms around her immediately or treat the small gesture as proof that everything between them had been fixed.

He simply shifted enough to make room.

Kylie rested her head against his shoulder.

The sunlight continued to move across the floor.

Somewhere outside, a car horn sounded. A door slammed in the neighboring apartment. Someone laughed in the corridor.

The world was carrying on.

It was strange, in a way.

Yesterday, she had felt as though everything had fallen apart. She had been angry, frightened, and exhausted. She had wanted to be alone and had been terrified of what might happen if she was.

Now she was sitting on the floor beside Christian, wearing nothing but a sheet and an unreasonable amount of affection.

Life had a wicked sense of humor.

"So," she said.

Christian turned his head.

"So?"

"Are we going to talk about what happened last night?"

His expression became attentive. "Yes." He drew imaginary shapes at the back of her palm. "Would you like to talk now?"

Kylie considered it. She looked at the ceiling. "Not yet."

"All right."

Her fingers brushed his.

He turned his hand, leaving his palm open beside hers. She slipped her fingers between his.

It was such a small thing.

And yet, when his hand closed gently around hers, Kylie felt something inside her settle.

"Can I ask you something?" she murmured.

"Anything."

She smiled against his shoulder. "Why did you hold me so tightly when I tried to get up?"