CHAPTER 54: NOT SEXY ENOUGH, HUH?

Catherine’s POV

The first thing I felt when I woke up was that my head hated me. It throbbed like someone had stuffed a drum inside and decided to start band practice.

I groaned and rolled over, pressing a pillow to my face. My throat felt dry and my tongue was like sandpaper. Everything hurt.

The second thing I felt was confusion because yesterday I was putting on a T-shirt and shirt but I woke up in a nightgown.

I blinked, tugged at the fabric, and sat up so fast that my vision blurred.

"Wait... what the hell?"

I stared around the room and thankfully, it was mine. Not the living room, not the guest room, not anywhere embarrassing but still, I didn’t remember changing. I didn’t remember anything after—

Oh no.

My stomach sank.

The last thing I remembered was the girls arguing, Sasha and Lucy nearly pulling each other’s hair out and then Julian’s voice cutting through the noise. Gabriel right behind him, looking horrified.

And then... oh no! I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember.

My balance slipping and Julian’s hand catching me before I hit the floor.

Oh no, no, no.

I covered my mouth. Don’t tell me he—

My eyes shot open.

That fucking pervert!

He changed my clothes?!

I jumped out of bed so fast I nearly tripped on the sheets. Fury replaced the headache in an instant. "That Moron actually undressed me!"

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and stormed out of my room with my messy hair, my feet slapping against the floor.

By the time I reached his door, my hands were shaking with part anger, and part humiliation. I didn’t even knock. I just burst in and there he was, fast asleep.

Sprawled across his bed, one arm hanging off the side, a faint frown between his brows. His hair was messy, his jaw dark with stubble, and his chest moved slowly under a white t-shirt that looked unfairly good on him.

Apparently, black isn’t his only color. Shut up! That’s not why you are here!

My eyes quickly darted around the room, in search of something torturous to wake him up with and that’s when I saw a black marker pen on his desk.

An evil grin crept onto my face.

"Oh, I’m so doing this."

I crept across the room, careful not to make a sound, and picked up the marker. My heart raced with giddy satisfaction as I leaned over his sleeping face.

"Let’s see how you like being messed with," I whispered.

I uncapped it slowly and started to draw a large, bold word right across his forehead: "Pervert."

Halfway through, he twitched.

I froze, clamping my hand over my mouth. My heart leapt into my throat.

He mumbled something and rolled slightly, but didn’t wake.

I let out a silent sigh and continued, finishing the last letter with a flourish.

"Perfect."

I couldn’t resist the urge to take a picture so I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera, smiling as I framed the shot but the flash went off before I could disable it.

His eyes flew open.

Shit.

Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist. In one swift motion, he yanked me forward and suddenly I was on the bed, half sprawled over him, my face inches from his.

"Wildcat? What are you doing in my room?" he whispered with a deep and sleepy rough voice. "Missing me that bad?"

My brain short-circuited for a second. Then I slapped his chest. "You pervert! What the hell did you do to me last night?!"

He blinked, still half-asleep, confusion furrowing his brow. "What?"

"Don’t ’what’ me! You changed my clothes, didn’t you?"

He groaned and leaned his head back on the pillow. "Oh that?"

"I knew it," I hissed. "You have no shame."

"How about asking questions instead of jumping to conclusions?"

"What?"

"I didn’t change your damn clothes, one of the staff did. I told her to because you threw up on your clothes."

My mouth fell open in guilt. Staring at that name on his forehead wasn’t helping either.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Still," I said weakly, "were you in the room while I was getting changed?"

He smiled at me, one eyebrow lifting. "That’s not a cute way to flirt?"

"I’m not flirting, you fool!"

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Don’t attack yet, wildcat. I was just pulling your legs."

"Oh shut up." I tried to get up but he refused to let go of my wrist.

"Let go," I voiced, pulling my hand free, but his arm shifted, wrapping around my waist before I could move.

"Not so fast," he murmured, his breath brushing my ear. "Why were you trying to steal a picture of me? To masturbate with it?"

What! My lips mouthed a shocking expression and my eyes flew open.

"Julian," I shot, trying to sound steady, "you— you’re— so disgusting."

And then I felt it. Something hard pressed against my thigh.

My eyes widened. "Oh my goodness!"

He gave me a confused look. "What?"

"You— you—" I pointed accusingly downward. "Pervert!"

In fact he actually deserved to have that name scribbled on his forehead.

He instantly let go and sat up, running a hand over his face. "Fuck me."

"Gosh! You have no shame!" I yelled.

"Stop overreacting," he snapped with a rough voice. "It’s not what you think."

"Oh, humor me then!"

"It’s just morning wood!"

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. "Morning what?!"

His lips moved to speak but he closed them back, obviously regretting opening his mouth.

"It’s a normal occurrence. It happens to men in the morning. If you maybe looked it up before jumping to conclusions—"

"Stop making excuses, you pervert!"

"I’m serious."

I crossed my arms. "You’re just saying that to cover up the fact that you’re gross."

"Catherine, just shut up and google it."

I scoffed. "Fine. I will."

I raised my phone and typed it in furiously. My confidence began to crumble as I read the results. My cheeks burned.

He was right. Damn it.

I looked up, and he was already smirking.

"See something you like?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Doesn’t change the fact that you’re disgusting."

He stood and stretched himself, completely unbothered. The hem of his shirt lifted slightly, and I immediately looked away.

He walked over until he was right in front of me, lowering his head so his lips nearly brushed my ear.

"For the record," he murmured, "you’re not sexy enough to get me hard that fast."

I froze but smirked just immediately. "Really?"

"Of course," he said coolly. "Now leave my room. I want to go down for breakfast."

He turned, but I didn’t move. Instead, I stepped closer.

This time he was the one to freeze. "What are you doing?"

I didn’t answer. I just walked right up to him, until the front of my body nearly touched his. He looked down at me, confusion flickering in his eyes.

"Catherine," he warned.

I tilted my head. "You sure about that?"

He swallowed. "About what?"

"That I’m not sexy enough?"

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened.

I pushed lightly at his chest, guiding him backward until he sat on the edge of his bed. His eyes followed me the entire time, wary but fascinated.

Then I moved between his legs, my hands resting on his shoulders.

"Catherine," he said again, this time softer. "Stop playing."

I didn’t listen.

I leaned down until my lips brushed his ear, my voice a whisper. "Look down, moron."

He did.

And the moment he realized what I meant, his expression froze.

"See?" I whispered with a smirk. "You are already hard."

He stared up at me, disbelief written all over his face.

I grinned wider, standing straight again. "Not sexy enough, huh?"

He didn’t move or speak. Just looked at me like he was trying to figure out whatever happened now.

I raised a brow. "You were saying?"

Julian’s voice came out low and dangerous. "You are so naughty, wildcat."

There was something about the way he said those words out, like he was controlling himself, like he was fighting back demons, like he was struggling to speak.

I smiled sweetly, turned, and walked out of his room, making sure my hips swayed a little more than necessary.

He was staring just like I wanted!

He wouldn’t dare use the word "not sexy enough" on me, ever again!