Mia Grant closed her eyes. She swore she would find ti this week to visit a temple and pray away her bad luck.
’Ever since I transmigrated into this book, my luck has just gotten worse and worse. Especially now that I have the system. I thought breaking away from the original plot might change things.’
But of course... things with a one-in-ten-thousand chance of happening had been cropping up for one after another.
This wasn’t the first male lead she’d run into since her return. Mia Grant was relatively calm, accepting the reality of the situation in just a second.
She opened her eyes and brazenly looked at Ian Sinclair—or rather, at the top of his head.
’I was so busy trying to escape just now that I didn’t get a chance to look back and check Ian Sinclair’s corruption value.’
’I was afraid one accidental look would be all it took for him to recognize .’
’With so many people in the classroom, the last thing I wanted was to reunite with Ian Sinclair in that kind of setting.’
’That guy has always been like a little wolf pup—clingy, proud, and perpetually unhinged.’
’Felix Sinclair is rational, at least, but Ian Sinclair is completely unpredictable.’
’If he’d recognized in that classroom, who knows what kind of outrageous scene he would have made in front of everyone.’
Perhaps because Ian Sinclair’s head had never been screwed on quite right to begin with, his corruption value wasn’t as high as Mia Grant had expected.
The number was familiar.
Mia Grant suddenly realized—the person she’d first seen in the cafeteria that day, the one standing in line whom her roommate had asked for his contact info, was Ian Sinclair.
It was just that the one who’d chased her down and cornered her afterward was Felix Sinclair.
"How did you know it was ?"
At the sound of her familiar voice, Ian Sinclair’s eyes lit up.
The mont their eyes t, ti seed to freeze. The ringing in his ears vanished.
In the cramped space, he could even sll her scent.
His heart was about to pound out of his chest, and his pulse hamred as if he’d been shot up with adrenaline.
He leaned against the elevator door and waggled the phone pinched between his fingers. His fingertips were white from the pressure, but his tone was deliberately casual. "Recognizing you is easy. You haven’t changed this crappy wallpaper of yours in ages."
’I want to pounce on her so badly.’
Ian Sinclair fought to control himself, averting his gaze slightly to cool down. "So, talk. What’s going on?"
Her lips parted, but Mia Grant didn’t know where to begin.
The elevator reached the second floor, and soone was about to get on.
She suggested, "Why don’t we find a coffee shop to talk?"
’An elevator is no place for a conversation.’
"A coffee shop? Forget it." As the elevator doors opened, Ian Sinclair grabbed her hand, steered her around the people waiting to get on, and pulled her out. "Co on."
"Hey? Where are we going? Aren’t we taking the elevator down?"
Ian Sinclair didn’t answer. His legs were long and his strides were wide, forcing Mia Grant to jog to keep up.
"Ian Sinclair! I’m talking to you! Are you even listening?"
He casually pushed open a door, saw it was occupied, and moved on. Turning back to her, he said, "What’s the rush? You’ll have your hands full in a bit."
"..."
’Coming from him, that sounded more than a little indecent.’
Ian Sinclair found an empty classroom at the end of the hall, yanked her inside, and slamd the door shut. SLAM.
"You want to talk in here? Fine by ." Mia Grant didn’t object. A classroom felt safe enough.
"You can let go of now. It’s not like I’m going to run."
She shook his hand off and turned to sit in one of the chairs behind her.
"No."
Ian Sinclair grabbed her wrist, yanking her in front of him.
Unsteady on her feet, Mia Grant stumbled right into his chest. When she looked up, she t the young man’s eyes, which were completely incapable of hiding what was on his mind.
Unlike the other male leads, whose initial reactions upon seeing her again were anger, confusion, or surprise, Ian Sinclair was in a state of pure euphoria.
It was like he was high on sothing.
The little wolf pup’s eyes were dark and bright, glittering with a feverish light.
Mia Grant stared into his eyes, lost in them for a mont. By the ti she snapped out of it, Ian Sinclair was already leaning down.
She sucked in a breath and slapped a hand over his mouth just before his lips could et hers. "What do you think you’re doing? I thought we were here to talk!"
Undeterred, Ian Sinclair simply started kissing the palm of her hand. The sensation made Mia Grant’s hand tingle and burn until she had no choice but to pull it away.
He declared, dead serious, "You do your talking. I’ll listen. We won’t get in each other’s way."
"..."
"You’re impossible!" Mia Grant shoved him away with all her might.
Fearing he would pounce again, she dodged toward the window to put so distance between them.
Ian Sinclair didn’t follow. The girl’s steps were light as she put her hands behind her back.
She was dressed in a preppy, British style today. Combined with her youthful face, she looked like she could still be a student at an international school.
He watched her stop before the floor-to-ceiling windows. Standing backlit, she turned, and her skirt flared out, tracing a graceful arc in the air before falling to cling tightly to her calves.
Her black knee-high socks made her calves look even more slender. He could wrap one hand around them.
’She shouldn’t be standing over there. She should be on my lap.’
’Right now, her calves should be...’
’...wrapped around his...’
’...waist...’
Ian Sinclair pressed the tip of his tongue against a canine, the faint pain grounding him as his gaze slowly traveled upward.
He didn’t look surprised at all. The reunion didn’t seem as intense as she’d imagined.
’She was calm, and he seed to be as well?’
’No, no, no.’
’Only he knew that the palm of the hand that had just held hers was tingling.’
’He was trying his best to control it, but his pinky still wouldn’t stop trembling.’
’It was the sa with his chest, his heart quaking with every beat.’
’It felt as if all the blood in his body was surging straight to his heart.’
Mia Grant didn’t know what he was looking at. She turned around, leaned back against a desk, and crossed her arms. "Don’t you have classes this afternoon? I have to get to mine soon."
The subtext was clear: get on with it and ask whatever you’re going to ask.
"These past two months you’ve been gone... who were you with? My brother?" Ian Sinclair started walking toward her.
He walked into the sunlight, radiating the bright, youthful energy unique to his age.
For a mont, Mia Grant forgot what she was going to say.
’She really liked Ian Sinclair’s aura.’
’Among all the male leads, his boyish charm was absolutely one-of-a-kind.’
Back in high school, Ian Sinclair would often demand that she co watch him play basketball.
He was always forceful about it, leaving no room for refusal.
That was one reason she always went.
The other reason was that she genuinely liked watching him when he played.
He’d be completely bathed in sunlight, sweat flying as he moved without restraint.
Whenever he scored, he’d strike a cringey celebratory pose—pressing his index and middle fingers together against his forehead and giving a little flick in her direction.
It felt as if he were paying tribute to a deity, thanking her for blessing his shot.
It was also like an invitation for her to celebrate with him.
She didn’t really understand the ga, but just sitting there watching him, her nerves—frayed from the constant tornt of the Grant Family, the other male leads, and her schoolwork—would miraculously find a bit of relief.
So, no, she didn’t hate Ian Sinclair, her little shadow.
He was annoying sotis, but he wasn’t a bad person, and he had a way of giving her energy without even trying.
"Not talking? Does that an you’re admitting it?"
Ian Sinclair strode forward, lifted her onto the desk, and bracketed her with his hands, leaning in close.
He ground his teeth and gave her a wicked smile. "Sister-in-law?"
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