Chapter 70: Mixing It Together
The racks in Arthur's walk-in closet were filled with crisp suits and button-downs, each one perfectly arranged by color and fabric. Even his shoes were almost entirely black leather, polished to a shine.
It hit me again how rarely I'd seen him in anything casual. This man was practically allergic to sweatpants.
I grabbed one of his white shirts and quickly slipped it on. Mine was a mess, completely unwearable, and I wasn't about to wander around his house half-naked.
The shirt hung off me like a dress, falling just past my thighs. It looked ridiculous, but it was better than nothing.
When I came downstairs, Arthur was lounging in the living room, one leg crossed over the other, a book in his hand. Even when he was doing nothing, he had this effortless n
