Julian's POV
"Stop moving," she continued to say, even after I carried her into her room and laid her on the bed.
Before I could ask what she meant, both her hands clamped around my head hard.
I froze. "Catherine, what the hell…"
"You head keeps spinning," she repeated, her voice all slurry and serious. "You're stressing my eyes."
I almost laughed. "That's your own head spinning, wildcat. Not mine."
Her fingers tightened, and I winced. "Let go, you're hurting me."
"No," she said flatly. "You always tell me what to do. Tonight, I'm in charge."
God. How could she be this impossible even when drunk?
"Catherine," I said again, prying at her wrists. "Let go of my head."
Her grip didn't budge. Her face was right in front of mine, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, but that stubborn glint that always made me lose patience was there.
"Wildcat," I muttered, because somehow that name always fit.
Her brows drew together. "Don't call me that."
