The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(38)

“Good, I’m glad he does.”

“I know.” I smile, pulling out my wash bag and moving to the bathroom. “Can we FaceTime? I need to do my face.”

“You’re going out?” he questions.

“No, I mean take it off. I’m knackered and have work in the morning. It’s only nine here, and I need to try and stay up. If I lie down any longer, I’ll be flat out in ten minutes.”

He starts to FaceTime me, and I answer, smiling down at him as I place the phone on the vanity. “Did you sleep last night?” he asks.

“A little. I was up early, but I defiantly got a couple of hours.” I lean down and look at him, taking in his handsome face. He’s in a crisp white shirt, and his hair is styled back in mussed waves. “You’re still up?” I ask, making out his lounge behind him.

“Hmm, I was out with Aldridge but came back early. Wasn’t feeling it.”

I watch him intently, and his lip twitches.

“What?”

“Nothing!” I reply.

He tips his chin. “No, what’s that look for?”

I relent. “When does Elliot Montgomery not feel it?”

“Wasn’t a lot on.” He shrugs. “Charles was out, but he has his head caught up in a case, and Mase no longer has his balls.”

“That’s bullshit.” I point down at him as I pump my cleanser into my hand. “Mase chooses to stay in.”

Elliot chuckles. “Fair. I would, too, if I had a Nina at home waiting for me.”

“Right.” I’d want to be at home if I had what they had.

“What’s that you’re putting on your face?”

“Face wash.” I hold up my hand to show him before smoothing it over my face.

“Can’t you just use a wet wipe?”

“Of course, I could, but I’d get spotty.” Some girls get away with that life, but I’m not that fortunate. “This gets all the dirt off my face. It’s awful living in the cities; probably be worse here than home.”

His face is scrunched up, and I smile to myself as he starts flicking through the channels on the TV. It’s how we’d be at home, only he wouldn’t know what I was up to in the bathroom, and I’d be teasy about him changing the channel while I was gone.

It’s keeping me busy and my mind off of the morning.

“What we watching?” I ask with a smirk, spritzing my cotton pads and swiping them around my eyes and nose.

“What’s that now?”

I hold up the bottle and shake it. “Toner?”

“What does that do?”

My heart flips in my chest. He has no idea how adorable he is. “It basically balances my pH levels.”

“Right.” He frowns as if it’s silly.

“What are you watching?”

“I started season two of Peaky Blinders last week.”

“I thought we were going to watch it together? Meg will kick your ass,” I tell him, grabbing up my moisturiser and massaging it in.

“I’m only on episode two. You haven’t missed a lot.”

“You’re the worst. It’s like me watching the new Bridgerton without you.”

“It’s not,” he assures me. “In fact, I encourage that.”

“You’d be gutted, don’t lie.”

“I mean, I’d need to know what happens—”

“See!” I laugh.

I brush my teeth, then pick up my phone and move to the bed. I pull back the covers and slide in. “Oh, God. I’m so tired; this is dangerous.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you, Morgan?”

“I might. My body is ruined from today, but my mind is on overdrive because of tomorrow.”

“You can call me in the morning if you want. I’ll keep my phone on loud just in case.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve set my alarm for an hour before I need to be there. I don’t want too much time to think about it.”

He nods his head, not looking convinced.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I smile at how stupid we are. “You obviously think that’s as bullshit as your wasn’t a lot on line.”

“I just know you’ll be up before your alarm.”

“Well, I won’t be calling you if that’s the case. It’s stupidly late home there, Ell. You should go to bed. You have work in the morning.”

“I will soon.”

My eyes drift over him, from his dirty-blond hair to his tired blue eyes. He looks boyish and lazy, and something about him screams home.

It’s hard to think he doesn’t see himself as I see him. He thinks he’s so out of reach, being a notorious playboy—his own words. But what he doesn’t get is that I see him away from all the women, parties, and the ruthless business world he revolves in. It’s only in moments like these that I truly see it.

Deep down, he’s the softest man, with an even softer heart.

“Outta your head,” he tells me, his eyes flicking between me and the TV. “You’ll do great.”

“I’m not thinking about work,” I say softly, already melting into the fresh sheets.