Page 137 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Arden,” he said. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Okay. Now I was really fucking awake. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just that”—he shifted restlessly and I suddenly realised this kind of anxious heat was pouring off him—“I don’t think I can stay.”

“In the bed. Right? Tell me you mean in the bed.”

His shadow made a startled motion in the gloom. “Oh God. Yes, the bed.”

“Jesusfuck.” I slammed my head against the pillow. “You scared the crap out of me, you hopeless bastard.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He covered his face with his hands. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to wake alone.”

Breathing. Yep. Check. Still working. “I appreciate that. It was totally the right impulse. Totally wrong delivery.”

“I thought it might be different.”

“Oh, Caspian.” I flailed out a hand as…I guess…an option for him, and was surprised when he took it, though his own was slightly clammy. “You’ve been saying all along it takes time for things to be different.”

“Then I suppose I hoped. I hoped I could do this for you.”

I sighed, embarrassed for my past self. “Look, I know I used to lose my shit over it, but that was only because I didn’t understand why you couldn’t be with me.”

“I want to be with you more than anything.”

“I know.” I smiled, hoping he would see it. “You’re in love with me, remember?”

“And that’s worth waking up in an empty bed?”

“It’s not even in question.” I gave his fingers a squeeze. “So what if you can’t spend the night with me. It’s enough that you wish you could.”

A rustle of covers and Caspian’s lips landed on my brow. “Thank you. Now go back to sleep. We’ll be together in the morning.”

“Hey now,” I protested. “Who said anything about going back to sleep?”

“It’s six a.m.”

“Let’s get up together.”

“Arden…”

“Don’tArdenme. You’re not my mum. You don’t get to say when I get up and go to bed.”

He released my hand, putting his own to his brow. “This is ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m not going to do it every time. Mostly, I’ll want you to kiss me sweetly and slide out discreetly. Maybe bring me breakfast later. Because I’m fucking grumpy first thing.”

“I’m aware,” he said, rather dryly.

I pulled a Gothic heroine pose. “Oh my God, are you sure you can stay with me? How can you possibly love someone who is so moody in the mornings? What if I’malwaysmoody in the mornings?”

“Well”—Caspian’s voice became very grave indeed—“being moody in the mornings doesn’t have to define you. And even if it never changes, we’ll find a way through it together.”

I laughed and he kissed me and so the two became tangled—which messed up both, but it didn’t matter.

“Did you say there was a roof terrace?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s…on the roof.”