Chapter 87
Evelyn's POV
I blinked, suddenly more awake. Why would Isabella be calling me at—I glanced at the clock—nearly one in the morning?
Julian shifted beside me, propping himself up to see the screen. His eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't say anything.
I hesitated, my finger hovering over the decline button. The last thing I wanted right now was to deal with Adrian's fiancée. But something about the late hour, the unexpectedness of it, made me curious.
I answered. "Isabella?"
"Evelyn!" Her voice was bright, cheerful, completely at odds with the hour. "Oh good, you're still awake. I wasn't sure if I should call, but I just couldn't sleep and I thought—well, I thought maybe we could talk?"
I exchanged a glance with Julian. He was watching me with those sharp eyes, clearly listening to every word even though he could only hear my side of the conversation.
"It's almost one AM," I said carefully.
"I know, I know! I'm sorry. It's just—" She laughed, a little nervously. "I've been thinking about everything, about the engagement, about joining the Winthrop family, and I realized I don't really have anyone to talk to about it. And you—you know Adrian better than anyone. You've been part of his life for so long."
My stomach tightened. This was exactly the kind of conversation I'd been trying to avoid. "Isabella, I don't think—"
"Please?" Her voice took on a pleading quality. "I just want to understand him better. Want to be a good wife to him. And you're the closest thing to family he has besides his sister and aunt. I thought maybe you could help me—" She paused. "Help me figure out how to make him happy."
The words should have hurt. Should have made me want to hang up, to push her away, to maintain that careful distance.
But Julian's hand settled on my waist, warm and grounding. When I glanced at him, he nodded slightly—a silent encouragement to continue.
I took a breath. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything!" Isabella's enthusiasm was almost childlike. "What does he like? What makes him laugh? What are his pet peeves? I feel like every time I'm around him, he's so... polite. So proper. I want to know the real Adrian, you know?"
Despite myself, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. "Adrian doesn't really let people see the real him. He's been trained since birth to maintain that perfect facade."
"But he let you see it, didn't he?" There was something wistful in her voice. "You lived with him. You must know things about him that no one else does."
Julian's hand slid up my ribcage, a slow, distracting caress. I swatted at him, but he just smiled against my shoulder and continued.
"He likes his coffee black," I said, trying to focus. "Hates when people are late. Gets genuinely excited about architecture—if you ever want to see him animated, take him to look at old buildings."
"Really?" Isabella sounded delighted. "I had no idea! What else?"
Julian's lips found the curve of my neck, pressing soft kisses along my skin. I bit back a gasp, glaring at him. He just grinned, clearly enjoying making this difficult.
"He reads before bed," I continued, my voice slightly breathless. "Usually history or philosophy. He's terrible at delegating—tries to do everything himself. And he—" Julian's hand cupped my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple, and I had to pause to collect myself. "He has a sweet tooth. Loves anything with dark chocolate."
"This is so helpful!" Isabella gushed. "You're amazing, Evelyn. I'm so glad we're becoming friends. I know things were a little awkward at first, but I really think we're going to be close. Like sisters! Or—" She laughed. "I guess you're technically going to be my mother-in-law, which is so weird to say, but I prefer to think of us as friends. Best friends, even!"
I opened my mouth to gently discourage that level of intimacy, but Julian shook his head, his expression amused. He settled back against the pillows, pulling me against his chest, and continued his slow exploration of my body—nothing overtly sexual, just gentle touches, soft kisses, the kind of casual intimacy that felt shockingly domestic.
"That's... very sweet of you," I managed.
"I mean it!" Isabella insisted. "I don't have a lot of female friends in New York. Most of the women in our social circle are so competitive, you know? But you—you're different. You're real. And you clearly care about Adrian so much, which means we already have the most important thing in common."
The irony of her words wasn't lost on me. If she knew how much I cared about Adrian, she'd be running in the opposite direction.
But Julian's arms were warm around me, his presence grounding, and I found myself relaxing into the absurdity of the situation.
"I'm glad you feel that way," I said, because what else could I say?
We talked for another ten minutes—Isabella chattering about wedding plans, asking for more Adrian anecdotes, declaring us "official besties" before finally saying goodnight.
When I hung up, Julian was smiling against my hair.
"Well," he said, amusement clear in his voice. "That was something."
"She wants to be best friends," I said flatly. "With her fiancé's stepmother. Who she suspects might still be in love with him."
"She's not that calculating." Julian's hand traced lazy patterns on my stomach. "Isabella doesn't really do subtext. She's exactly what she appears to be—sweet, a little naive, and completely oblivious to boundaries."
I turned in his arms to look at him. "Is that a Russell family trait? The complete disregard for personal space?"
He grinned, pulling me closer. "Are you saying I'm clingy?"
"I'm saying your entire family seems to think 'no' is just a suggestion."
"We prefer to think of it as... persistent charm." He kissed my nose. "Besides, you like it when I ignore your boundaries. Admit it."
I laughed despite myself, swatting his chest. "You're impossible."
"And you're stuck with me now." He settled me against him, his arms secure around my waist. "Go to sleep, Evelyn. Your new best friend will probably call again tomorrow."
I groaned, but I was smiling as I closed my eyes. The absurdity of it all—Isabella's oblivious friendliness, Julian's teasing warmth, the complicated web we were all tangled in—should have stressed me out.
Instead, wrapped in Julian's arms, I felt something dangerously close to contentment.
And for tonight, I let myself have it.