Page 78 of Finding Lord Landry

While doing his best to keep me the fuck out of his heart.

SEVENTEEN

KENJI

I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in Landry’s room, with one of his pillows under my head and his extra blanket over me. But when I awoke in the middle of the night with a full bladder, I was curled against his warm body like a sleepy but aggressive octopus.

I unpeeled my tentacles and snuck out of the bed.

“Baby,” he murmured in a sleep-roughened voice. “Y’okay?”

My heart stopped before dropping into an embarrassing swoon as I said a quick “Yeah, gotta pee” and disappeared into the bathroom.

The marble tile was cool under my feet, a stark reminder that this wasn’t Landry’s luxury penthouse in Manhattan, where the bathroom floors had radiant heat. I emptied my bladder and moved to the sink, blinking at myself in the mirror in the dim light from the street coming in through the nearby window.

My hair was a rat’s nest, and the T-shirt I’d stolen from Landry to sleep in was twisted around my neck. I straightened it and threaded my fingers through my hair before taking a long drink of water out of the tap.

“The sofa,” I said firmly to my reflection.

But he’s the one who moved me to the bed, I reminded myself.

“He was being a gentleman.”

He’s warm, I whined.And lovely. And sweet. And he might need comfort after that conversation with Zane.

“Boundaries,” I hissed at mirror-Kenji. “You weren’t supposed to overhear that. And he’s angry at you. And he didn’t ask for a roommate.”

All of that was true.

None of it made the choice easier.

When Cora and I had nipped home midway through our shopping trip yesterday so I could drop off some purchases and grab a scarf, no one had warned me Landry was back from his run. I’d rushed upstairs and thrown open the door to his—our—suite, lost in thought and still low-key angry about Landry’s lies and his Parliament run and that toe-tingling, performative kiss in the hallway.

Then, I’d heard Zane’s laughter coming from the bathroom, followed by Landry’s emotion-soaked voice saying, “For years, I’ve been terrified that if you found out the truth, you’d hate me for not telling you sooner or you’d think differently of me, and I’d be alone again.”

My heart had squeezed hard—we’re talking cardiac-event-hard—and I’d had to fight the urge to go into the bathroom and wrap my arms around Landry.

But of course, I hadn’t. After all, I wasn’t the one he’d chosen to get emotional with, was I?

No, I was the one he’d avoided talking to for days, except when the cameras were on, like whatever feelings he’d had for me had withered and died?—

Landry shuffled into the bathroom behind me and caught me staring at myself.

“Get in the fucking bed,” he muttered as he headed straight for the toilet, “or neither one of us is going to sleep.”

I scurried out of the bathroom and dove into the bed. It was warm and soft. Heavenly.

And it smelled like my favorite combination of Landry and Kenji.

Fuck.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” he grumbled, yanking back the duvet, climbing over me with no care for my personal space, and yanking the duvet back over us. “It’s two in the morning. Apparently, I have to dosportsin a few hours.”

“You like sports,” I reminded him, curling automatically around him again as if controlled by the feral octopus. I had no idea what kind of bed-sharing detente this was, but I wasn’t going to question it.

Landry’s arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin. “Not in London in February, I don’t.”

He was shirtless. My cheek tickled from his chest hair. I moved my face until I found a more comfortable spot.

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