The Contract Said Leave After, His Mind Said Please Stay Chapter 03

Two weeks later, our usual “routine” night came around again.

I stood outside Julian’s bedroom door and took a deep breath. Tonight, I was going to shake things up.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The lights were off, same as always.

He was already in bed. I walked over and sat on the edge.

I didn’t lie down the way I usually did.

[Why isn’t she lying down?]

I felt his eyes on me in the dark.

“Mr. Sterling,” I said.

[Mr. Sterling. Again.]

The irritation in his head hit instantly.

[Why is it always Mr. Sterling? Would it kill her to call me honey?]

I bit back a laugh. “Tonight… I’m kind of cold.”

The room stayed quiet for three full seconds.

[Cold? The heater’s on. Is she… hinting at something?]

[No way. Don’t flatter yourself, Julian.]

“Put on another blanket, then.” His voice floated out of the dark, flat as ever.

[ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JULIAN? She says she’s cold and you tell her to grab a blanket??? You deserve to die alone.]

I almost lost it. I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

“The blankets aren’t warm enough,” I said.

The silence stretched. Inside his head, alarms were going off everywhere.

[What does that mean? That’s a hint. That has to be a hint. Does she want me to hold her?]

[No, no — what if I’m wrong and she thinks I’m a creep?]

Five seconds crawled by. Then ten.

He didn’t move. I sighed.

Subtlety wasn’t going to work. This brick wall needed a wrecking ball.

I scooted over, closed the gap, and leaned my head against his shoulder. Every muscle in his body went solid.

[Holy hell.]

His brain couldn’t form another rational thought — just pure panic, wall to wall.

[She’s leaning on me. She’s leaning on me. She’s LEANING ON ME. Breathe. You’re Julian. You’ve handled billion-dollar deals. You can handle this.]

His shoulder was rigid under my cheek, and heat rolled off him in waves.

“Much warmer,” I murmured.

[Fuck — why is her voice that soft? I can’t do this. I’m going to die. What do I do with my hands? Where do my hands go?]

[If I put my hand on her shoulder, is that creepy? If I keep them clenched in my lap — no, that’s too obvious.]

His hands balled into fists beneath the blanket. He didn’t move.

He just sat there, stiff as a board, and let me lean.

[Fine. Just stay like this. Don’t move.]

[You move, you ruin it. Hold it together, Julian. You’re a gentleman.]

He called himself a gentleman. Two weeks ago, his inner voice had said, “I barely got started.”

Gentleman felt like a stretch.

I stopped talking and stayed right where I was. After a while, his shoulder softened under my cheek.

Then his hand moved. It landed on my shoulder — barely there, like he was afraid I might shatter.

[She didn’t pull away. She didn’t pull away! Okay. Okay, good. Just like this.]

[Don’t be greedy, Julian. Getting to hold her tonight is already more than you deserve.]

I pressed my face into the curve of his neck so he wouldn’t see my expression. My stomach ached from holding in the laughter.

Julian, Julian, Julian. Underneath all that frost, he was the most painfully earnest man alive.

That night, I didn’t leave after twenty minutes. I stayed for a full hour, still leaning against him.

We didn’t do anything. I just stayed where I was.

His inner monologue had gone from full-blown panic to something quieter.

[Did she fall asleep? Her breathing is so steady. God, she smells good. What shampoo does she use?]

[Forget it. It doesn’t matter. She’s leaning on me. She’s in my arms. I could die right now and I’d be fine with it.]

I wasn’t asleep. I was wide awake.

I lay there listening to a billionaire come undone inside his own head like a sixteen-year-old boy on his first date.

When I finally “woke up,” I sold it hard — a sleepy blink, a slow rub of my eyes.

“Mm… sorry, I fell asleep.” His hand pulled back from my shoulder like he’d been caught.

“It’s fine.” His voice had already gone back to ice.

[Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.]

“I should head back to my room, then.”

[Go ahead. You won’t stay anyway.]

I stood up and walked to the door, then stopped.

“Mr. Sterling.”

“Hm?”

“Good night.”

The room went still.

[… She’s never said good night to me before.]

“Good night,” he said.

Something flickered in his voice that I wasn’t ready to name. All I knew was that it sounded a shade softer than usual.

I closed the door and went back to my room. I flopped onto my bed and rolled over.

The smile wouldn’t leave my face. Harper, Harper, Harper — what are you doing?

You’re flirting with an iceberg who’s secretly on fire. And you’re loving every second of it.