When Maverick's eyes snapped open, he found himself lying on a bed—one far softer than the one he was falling asleep to. The scent of fresh linen mixed with subtle hints of sandalwood and lavender, a clear sign of a well-kept, luxurious inn.
Instinctively, he shifted, but something heavy pinned him down.
His gaze drifted sideways, and his breath hitched. Julius lay beside him, fast asleep, his arms securely wrapped around Maverick as if refusing to let go.
Maverick frowned, pressing his hand against Julius's chest and giving him a slight shake. "Julius," he murmured.
Julius groaned, shifting slightly but keeping his eyes closed. His voice was thick with sleep. "Maverick… you're awake."
Maverick sighed. "What time is it? Why didn't you wake me up?"
Julius only tightened his hold, his face nuzzling closer to Maverick's shoulder. "I don't know, but I think it's already past dinner. You seemed too tired, so I let you sleep."
