The city glow pressed against my window, a sickly orange film over the glass. I lay in my childhood bed, in sheets that smelled like fabric softener and old secrets, and I couldn't stop picturing Julian.
I had left that afternoon of my own will. "Concentrate," I had told him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I'll be back when you're done." He had nodded, already reaching for the next document, his attention sliding off me like water off marble. I had told myself that was respect. Trust. An adult arrangement between two people who didn't need to cling.
But I was oblivion. I didn’t know the knock that would come to his door at nine that night. I didn’t know the voice that would followed.
"You look busy, Julian." Marcus said as he entered Julian's penthouse like it belonged to him.
"Marcus. Y
