Inside the apartment, Sean was in the kitchen wearing an apimo, making dinner for Charlotte.
Charlotte leaned casually against the doorway, as crossed, watching him with amusement.
“Didn’t expect the great Mr. Jasper to know his way around aldichen.”
<b>Sean </b>rinsed the vegetables <b>at </b><b>a </b>rxed <b>pace</b>. “Remember when you asked where the food I brought you came from?
He <b>turned </b><b>and </b>gave her a <b>small </b>smile. “I <b>made </b>it myself.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise. “You made it? But how does it taste exactly like my mom’s cooking?”
Sean’s lips curved into a soft smile. “I picked it up when i used to sneak mealxat your ce,”
Charlotte looked skeptical. “You barely came over <b>a </b>handful of times. There’s no way you picked it up that fast.”
They had first met shortly after her tenth birthday, and her mom had passed away hist after she turned twelve. There
<b>ere </b>was no way he could have learned that much in
only a few visits.
“I don’t buy it,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously
Sean sliced the vegetables into thin strips, then began marinating the beet “Remember how I said I wanted to take you somewhere, but we had to cancel because you got hurt?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah?”
“Let’s go tomorrow.”
“What does that have to <b>do </b>with cooking?”
“It’s rted.”
“Alright then.”
Dinner was simple but perfect: Sean whipped up a simple homemade dinner: beef and vegetable stir–fry, creamy tomato scrambled eggs, and chicken and zhin
Charlotte normally didn’t eat much for dinner–sometimes skipping it entirely–but tonight, with Sean’s <b>coolding </b>and theforting <b>familiarity </b>of the vors, she polished off an entire bowl of rice. They cleared the <b>table </b>between the two of them.
Afterward<b>, </b>when she got up to do the <b>dishes</b>, sean stopped her. “sit. <b>I’ll </b>do it”
Charlotte grinned, teasing, “Wow, Mr. Jasper, you’re such a catch. Maybe I should marry you.”
Seanughed and gently flicked her on the forehead. “I’ll marry you. ”
Aftertidying the kitchen, Sean didn’t linger or push his luck. He didn’t ask to stay the night
As they said goodbye, Charlotte leaned against the doorframe, watching that <b>ridiculously </b><b>handsome </b><b>face </b>of his<b>, </b>secretly wondering
Why didn’t he ask to stay over?
<b>Was </b>she not attractive enough?
She nced down at herself without thinking
No, her figure was definitely <b>just </b>fine.
Sean <b>caught </b>her looking, a smile ying in his eyes.
“<b>What </b>are you <b>thinking </b>about? You <b>look </b>like something’s bothering you.”
Carlotte coughed lightly to cover her embarrasunud. “Nothing. Delve safe,
“See <b>you </b>tomorrow,” herald, tuming to leave with the trash infupl
She watched his back as he walked away, thee other lips tugging into punde
“This guy… br’s almost too proper. <b>There’s </b>not even a hint of ulterior motive insight,” she thought to hersel
Meanwhile, <b>Zac </b>was being booked at the police station after the scudile at the apartment gate.
<b>He </b><b>should </b>have been held in detention, but his assistant posted ball and got him out.
By the time they walked out of the station, it was nearly dam
The assistant looked absolutely miserable. He had just gotten back to the hotel, parts hallway off, when Zac suddenly called – from the police s
: station
His girlfriend had flown all the way to resey City just in spend time with him. He had been mmed with work all day, barely had time to say twn words to her They were finally about in enjoy a little, well, private time when suddenly, ility called.
This hoss of his, honestly, was like a walking disaster, Just out of the <b>hospital </b>and already fighting again.
And now, cherry on top? His glitter was honous, yelling that she wanted to break up. Perfect. Just perfect,
He let out a long sigh and slid into the diver’s seat. Whereto now, Mr. Gibson?”
Zac looked exhausted. “Backtothe hotel.
<b>When </b>Zac pot to the salte, he flipped on the lights. The spacious mom
roll and riply.
He walked to the window, I acigarette, and tookalong drag.
ng hard against his chest.
The smoke filled his lungs<b>, </b>buming all the way down, presing,
He looked amund the empty, silent room.
The ss dining table no longer held that vintage cenomic vase or a fresh bouquet of flowers.
And the fridge? I wasn’t stocked with homemade food anym