“It means—I’m going to keep drinking!” Skylar declared triumphantly and brought the glass to her lips again. But before she could take another sip, Joe reached out and gently stopped her.
His large hand wrapped around hers, warm and firm.
Skylar, dulled by alcohol, didn’t react right away. When she finally did, she frowned and protested, “Let go of me! Just because you always look so serious doesn’t mean I’m scared of you. I’ll have you know—I can fight!”
Joe couldn’t help but chuckle at her drunken defiance. She was like a child throwing a tantrum—wild, stubborn, and completely unaware of how ridiculous she sounded. Still, she wasn’t wrong about his serious expression. He’d always carried that cold, unreadable air.
“Come on, you’re drunk,” Joe said softly. “You shouldn’t drink anymore.”
But reasoning with Skylar in this state was like talking to a wall. Her hazy eyes narrowed as she stared at him, suddenly unimpressed.
“Why do you look so ugly now?” she muttered.
Joe’s expression darkened instantly.
Ugly?
That word had never been directed at him—ever.
“You might want to think carefully before saying something like that. Who are you calling ugly?” Joe’s voice was low and laced with amusement—and a warning.
Skylar blinked. “Obviously you! Who else could it be? Wait—don’t move—I’ll help you find a plastic surgeon.”
She began tapping at her phone clumsily. “Once we get rid of those extra eyes on your forehead, you won’t be ugly anymore.”
If she had gone into medicine, she could have done it herself. What a pity. Such a shame—he’d be decently attractive if not for those… eyes.
Joe stared at her in disbelief, lips twitching. The absurdity of it all made him want to laugh.
Skylar tried to stand, but the room spun violently. Her legs gave out, and she fell, narrowly catching herself against a nearby chair. She mumbled something incomprehensible and slumped into the seat.
“How did I end up on the bed?” she whispered to no one. “I’m going to sleep. Remember to find that plastic surgeon, okay? Those eyes… they’re really hurting your dating life. Way too ugly…”
With that, she closed her eyes and fell asleep right there—head resting on the table, arms limp, utterly out cold.
Joe watched her in stunned silence. He had dealt with many people in his life, drunk or otherwise—but no one had ever dared to act like this in front of him. Skylar was the first.
The first to scold him.
The first to seriously suggest he get cosmetic surgery.
Who would believe it if he told anyone?
Sighing, Joe stepped forward and scooped her up effortlessly. She was surprisingly light in his arms. As he lifted her, she snuggled against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her hand wandered, brushing across his chest… then pinched him lightly.
“My bed’s too hard…” she mumbled. “I need a new mattress. Must change it… definitely.”
Joe’s gaze deepened as he looked down at her. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?” he muttered under his breath. “You’re lucky I have self-control.”
But of course, Skylar was already sound asleep.
He carried her upstairs and gently laid her on the bed. As he pulled the blanket over her, he took a deep breath. Her scent still lingered on his clothes, and her touch hadn’t faded from his mind.
Skip to content