"Cold Boss Is My Masked Daddy" Chapter 88
Julian gripped the edge of his towel, his toes curling into the rug. "My pajamas?"
"In the dryer," Samuel said, gesturing toward the machine. "Ten minutes left."
Julian checked the display. Not just his pajamas, but his dress shirt, his slacks... and his boxers.
"I hand-washed them," Samuel added.
Julian's brain short-circuited. He couldn't reconcile the image of the MD of Apex Capital—a man who crushed rivals in boardrooms—scrubbing Julian's underwear in a mountain basin.
"Thank you, sir," Julian managed, his voice a shaky whisper. "But I can handle it myself next time."
Samuel offered a noncommittal look and went back to his screen.
Julian retreated under the covers to wait out the timer, pulling up his work emails to distract himself. Rescheduled interviews, macro-analysis reports, and a business gala for that evening.
Samuel would be even busier. Guilt settled in Julian's stomach, heavy and cold. Samuel's time was a rare commodity, and he had spent it playing nurse in a blackout. The romantic fog in Julian's head cleared, replaced by a sharp professional regret.
Two days later, the conference ended. Julian and Samuel boarded the flight back to New York City.
Julian watched the flight tracker on his seatback screen, his pulse skipping with a restless energy.
Over the last few days, he had performed a surgical analysis of Samuel's behavior. The insistence that Julian stop avoiding him, the offer to introduce his mother, the intimate care during the fever... the conclusion was inescapable.
Samuel likes me.
Julian wasn't the type to wait for a formal confession. If he wanted something, he took it.
He looked at Samuel, who was rumpled from ten hours in the air. Julian's hair was oily, and his suit was a mess of travel creases. He couldn't do it today. Not like this.
Tomorrow, he decided.
He was about to suggest a meeting when Samuel beat him to the strike.
"Are you free tomorrow?" Samuel asked.
Julian's breath hitched. "For work?"
"After work," Samuel said. "I want to see you."
Julian's heart did a frantic trip-step against his ribs. "I... yes. I'm free."
Samuel was just as eager as he was. Julian felt like he was floating as they cleared customs. They reached the terminal exit where a driver was waiting.
Samuel saw Julian into the sedan and closed the door.
Julian rolled down the window, frowning. "You aren't coming?"
Samuel shook his head. "I'm heading to Emerald Lake."
Julian didn't pry. He assumed Samuel was as nervous about their proximity as he was. A one-hour drive in a confined space was too much for a man on the verge of a confession. Julian waved as the car pulled away.
"Goodbye, sir."
Samuel's reply was a low, gravelly vibration. Julian was too caught up in his own excitement to notice the strange, jagged edge in the man's voice.
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Julian returned home, buzzing with excitement. He spent a full thirty minutes just selecting his outfit for the next day, yet he was still restless and couldn't help but run five kilometers downstairs.
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Just as he returned, breathless, he received a call from Luke. Luke was out of town and said Samuel had a fever, asking if Julian could check on him.
Samuel had a fever?
Julian recalled how Samuel looked and sounded when they parted—he certainly didn't seem healthy. Julian had been so preoccupied with his own happiness that he hadn't noticed Samuel's physical state; for all he knew, he might have been the one who passed the cold to him.
Feeling guilty, Julian quickly got dressed and rushed over. He bought fever-reducing medicine on the way and let himself into Samuel's place using the code Luke had given him.
The last time Julian was here, he had collapsed in tears in front of Samuel. He never imagined back then that they would end up in their current relationship.
The first floor was empty. Julian brought a cup of hot water upstairs. The room was silent; Samuel lay in bed, his cheeks flushed with an abnormal, feverish heat. He seemed so severely ill that he didn't even notice Julian entering.
Julian reached out to touch Samuel's forehead—it was scorching.
When had the always-imposing Samuel ever shown such a vulnerable expression? Julian felt a pang of heartache and took out a thermometer to check his temperature.
The electronic thermometer could be used orally or axillary, but Samuel was still wearing his shirt and tie; he would have to be undressed for it. Julian hesitated for a moment, deciding to try an oral reading first.
He reached out to touch Samuel's cheek. "Samuel, Luke said you have a fever and asked me to come look after you. Open your mouth, let me take your temperature."
Samuel mumbled a delirious "mm," but made no further sound.
Julian didn't want to give up and pried at his chin. "Open your mouth, let me check your temp… mm—"
The warm, wet sensation caught Julian off guard—Samuel had actually taken his finger into his mouth!
Samuel was running a fever, and the inside of his mouth was hot and humid. His teeth gently grazed Julian's finger, sending a strange, unfamiliar tickle through him. Julian's face instantly burned red. He quickly shoved the thermometer into Samuel's mouth and retracted his finger.
As his finger left Samuel's lips, there was a soft, wet "pop." His fingertip was damp, trailing a thin, sticky thread of saliva that shimmered with a certain salacious luster in the dim light.
Julian's face grew even hotter. He hurriedly wiped his hand with a tissue, secretly scolding himself: What are you doing? Samuel is sick, and you're here thinking about all this nonsense!
After a few minutes, the thermometer beeped, reading 39.7°C (103.5°F). No wonder he was barely conscious.
Julian planned to give him ibuprofen, but he wasn't sure if Samuel had taken anything yet, and he couldn't wake him. But Samuel had been back for two hours—surely he would have taken something by now? Julian decided to feed him an ibuprofen.
Feeding a semiconscious person was no easy task. Julian tried hard but couldn't pry Samuel's mouth open. In his confusion, he remembered Samuel biting his finger earlier...
Julian bit his lip, held the pill between his fingertips, and guided it into Samuel's mouth, using the opportunity to pour a little water in, finally getting the medicine down.
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