COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
After the brutal silence between the four of us, Lawrence cleared his throat and shot me a grin.
“Uh . . . Hello, Emery. Welcome to our humble abode.”
Lawrence grabbed Zoe’s hand, who never stop staring at us in disbelief.
“Make yourself at home. Zoe and I will have something to take care of,” he said with a coy smile on his lips, and pulled Zoe’s hand, walking past us.
But before they could ultimately be out of sight, he tapped Lance’s shoulder and shot him a mischievous smile.
“Don’t forget to use protection,” he whispered, but it sure was not a murmur as it sliced through the silence of the room.
“The hell are you talking about?!”
Lance shouted, his face contorting in annoyance while I, on the other hand, already stopped shaking as I turned from a block of glacier to a hot boiling puddle of water.
Lawrence chuckled, and before Lance could hit him, he bolted out with Zoe in hand.
“. . .”
“. . .”
“Come on,” Lance said, scratching the back of his head. “You can take a bath in my sister’s room. No one is using it at the moment.”
He then led me inside a room with a clean, modern, and elegant feel to it, and I could not help but admire Leanna’s taste.
Lance withdraw his hand, and I felt the cold seeping back without the warmth of his touch.
He went into a room, and when he came out, he brought bundles of towels, a bathrobe, a t-shirt, and a pajama.
“Here. Use this in the meantime. Get yourself out of that wet clothes while I prepare the bath for you,” he said, and before I could open my mouth to stop him, he stormed into the bathroom.
I glanced at the bathrobe and undressed in a hurry. Even though my fingers were shaking and frigid from the cold, I managed to unclothe and put on the robe.
After a minute, Lance came out from the bathroom, and when our eyes met, he avoided my gaze, looking all flushed.
“Hurry and go take a shower before you catch a cold,” he said, “I’ll go and dry your clothes.”
I assumed that he did not think what he said as he extended his hand at me. His eyes never linger a second or two on my body, which was just wrapped by a piece of cotton robe.
“Y-you do not have to . . .” I feel like my eyes were going on circles as I searched for the right words to say. “I-I can do it on my own.”
“I’m angry right now,” he said, frowning, “so don’t argue with me.”
I bit my lips as I gave him my wet garments. My eyes then shifted away from him when my wet underwear came into view.
“. . .”
“. . .”
“I-I-I-I’ll go now . . .”
I stuttered and scurried into the bathroom. Before I close the door, I heard him cursing with a strained voice.
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