“You smell different,” he muttered. “Like mint.” It took me a moment to find my voice. “I used the hotel’s shampoo and conditioner and didn’t reapply my perfume. You’re welcome.” Julian didn’t say anything, continuing to play with my hair. I felt myself melting into him, that slow awareness that sleep had a partial grip on you. Reality and dreams mixed. I couldn’t be sure if it was real or in my head, but I thought I felt something press against the top of my head. And I thought I heard words that didn’t make sense. “You know, I think I like the flowers better.”
