Terms & Truths (New York Billionaires Book 1)

33| Touch

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Touch

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Chapter 33: Touch (Evie's POV)

I'm getting an awful lot of sleep today morning. Why isn't my alarm going off? What time is it? 

I peeked my eyes open and found myself facing the window. My eyes dropped to the floor where I could see the sunlight hitting the ground from the small gap under the curtains. 

Shit... am I late? 

I quickly reached for my phone and checked the time. Ten. Ten in the morning. Groaning softly, I put the phone down and threw the covers off my legs, intending to get out of bed. A gasp slipped out of me while my hands instinctively flew to grab the arms that went around me. 

What the fuck? 

Holding my breath, I blinked in realization once I remembered what happened last night. I had forgotten that Rowan actually stayed. I couldn't figure out for the life of me what I was thinking when I let him stay in my room. At first, I thought because he was still pretty tipsy, he wouldn't remember what he said or did and I would be able to wake up before him this morning and say that he slept here and so I slept in his room. 

Never mind that it would be a bold-faced lie. 

But I doubted that Rowan would wake up and be happy at the sight of me. I glanced down at where his arms stayed secured around my waist before lifting my hands off. Slowly and quietly, I rolled over, regretting it immediately as I saw how close we were. My eyes drifted up to his face and ensured that he was still asleep. 

He was breathing evenly, his eyes were shut and for once, he looked calm. He looked peaceful. He didn't look like something was worrying him, not like something was gnawing at him and stressing out every nerve of his. He seemed relaxed for the first time in a very long time. 

Mostly, when I look at Rowan, I see that little frown between his brows, that anger just sitting at the tip of his tongue while he looked for someone to snap and let it out on, the way he forced himself to seem unaffected by just about everything. 

He shuffled forward and I kept quiet and watched him as he shifted upward just a bit until his chin sat at the top of my head. My eyes traveled down his shoulders, to his bare chest. 

Was he really shirtless when he came here last night? 

Glancing lower, I was surprised to see his body. I knew very well that Rowan took care of himself, he exercised regularly, went on runs most days, and went to the gym once in a while too. But I had no idea that Rowan was so... ripped, to be honest. I had no idea how he managed to take care of himself so well considering how busy he always was, but he seemed to be doing just fine. Rowan was created like a fucking Greek God. 

I'm sure my younger self would very much agree. 

His chest was toned, shoulders were broad, always had been. You could count out his abs. 

I did. There are six. He seriously looks like a Greek God. 

They were sculpted, made to fit him with perfection, there was no other word for it. He was flawless. And my fucking husband, a semi-fake one at that. I wasn't allowed to think like this of him, I wasn't supposed to pay attention to these things. This was a job, just like any other one I've ever had. I can't get distracted again by the one man who's distracted me all my life.