His voice was loud, echoing throughout the entire bathroom.
Sumr Sutton looked up blankly, her gaze sowhat bewildered as she looked at him.
Watt Bennet couldn’t be bothered to explain to her. He lifted her, who had already managed her physiological needs but was still sitting on the toilet, and turned to carry her back to the bedroom.
Tonight, he was a bit short-tempered. He tossed her onto the bed, his tall body following her up.
Sumr turned her head, staring at his face that was so close to hers, and slowly uttered sothing that almost made him lose his temper again.
She scrutinized him for a while, her eyebrows knitting in suspicion, "Who are you? Why are you in my bed?"
Watt kept taking deep breaths again and again.
Suppressing all his anger, he flipped her beneath him.
"Are you doing this on purpose to provoke ?" His handso face leaned toward her as he slowly asked.
In fact, Watt had suspected this question from the very beginning.
Sumr was so familiar with him that she could identify him just by touching his palm. Now that she’s only had a bit to drink, has she forgotten who he is?
Was she deliberately provoking him tonight?
If he didn’t admit his identity, she’d go along with it, provoking, stimulating, and forcing him to have to admit who he was?
Right now, Watt truly suspected Sumr of this.
But unexpectedly, Sumr seed like she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Her little hand climbed up his face, touching here and there, and began to scrutinize his mask again.
Her hands landed on his mask, and she examined it for a while, as if she suddenly recalled sothing.
This relieved Watt a bit.
But before he could fully relax, Sumr blurted out, "Sun? You’re Sun!"
Watt’s face instantly turned cold as ice.
Who is Sun?
Watt hadn’t really drunk much tonight, but his head hurt terribly, and his chest ached even more, both stifled and painful.
The nickna Sun, he didn’t need to guess, it must be the nickna of another man.
She’s drunk, knows other n, but doesn’t know him?
At this mont, Watt’s heart was very hurt, his chest felt like it was being pricked with needles.
Sumr was still studying the mask on his face. She had drunk quite a bit tonight, and Watt didn’t guard against her at all.
Sumr’s hand explored his mask, and suddenly, without warning, she lifted it off his face.
The view suddenly beca clear.
Their gazes t, unimpeded.
Watt didn’t evade, nor did he put the mask back on, instead quietly allowing her scrutiny.
Sumr gazed at him with her drunken, dazed eyes, her gaze sweeping over his face repeatedly.
Her eyes held none of the surprise and shock Watt had hoped to see, her expression was extrely calm, her eyes even a bit dubious.
This made Watt’s heart slowly twist into knots.
Sumr’s gaze was clearly very blank, as if she still didn’t know who he was.
She’s even seen his face now, and if she dares to call him the wrong na again, he might really strangle her tonight!
They kept staring at each other for quite so ti, Sumr’s gaze lingering on him.
She kept looking, and then suddenly giggled, "You look a lot like Adrian Walyon."
This was the first ti tonight she had completely spoken his na, rather than mumbling sothing for a long ti without any conclusion.
But, what does ’look a lot like’ an?
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