CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 72: MEETING THE PARENTS

In the afternoon, Justin Holden hadn’t left home. He sat on the sofa reading a financial magazine, his long legs crossed, and his right hand holding a coffee cup.

He hadn’t turned a page for a long time, his peripheral vision occasionally glancing at the door of the small bedroom.

The door was closed, blocking out all sound after Jesse asked that question.

In the room, Jesse was clamoring for vegetable crackers. Jean Ellison pushed the door open and came out of the bedroom, immediately seeing the man in the living room.

He didn’t look up at her, with a few strands of short hair falling on his broad and full forehead, his long and alluring eyes looking downward.

Slender fingers pinched the magazine, focusing intently.

Jean tiptoed softly towards the kitchen.

She felt somewhat regretful, she should have placed Jesse’s snacks elsewhere. The distance from the small bedroom to the kitchen was too far, so far that she couldn’t help but look at Justin Holden.

Justin seemed to really regard her as an ordinary roommate. He did his own things, showing no interest in her, not even sparing her a glance.

Obviously, this was a good thing, yet she felt a bit gloomy inside.

Stepping into the kitchen, Jean stood on a stool, her thin and frail body swaying slightly.

The shadow of the top cabinet shrouded her swaying figure.

She stretched out her arms, her fingertips futilely brushing against the green-packaged vegetable crackers.

The crackers were pushed to the deepest part by a pile of things, sticking to the cabinet wall, beyond her reach.

The soles of her slippers were thin, and she could clearly feel the unstable curve of the wooden stool underfoot.

She tiptoed again, body bending, the hem of her pajamas hitching up slightly, revealing a small patch of cool, delicate, fair skin on her back.

One of the stool’s legs suddenly slipped, the feeling of weightlessness seized her abruptly, and her heart leapt to her throat in an instant.

She let out a startled cry, tightly closing her eyes, but the pain of falling to the ground as she anticipated did not come.

A strong hand steadily supported her at the waist, the palm warm and dry, heating her slightly cool skin through the thin cotton pajamas.

The touch was vivid, the fingertips even a bit scorching, her shoulders shivered lightly, and she turned back suddenly.

Justin Holden had silently entered the kitchen at some point, standing behind her, with one hand holding the crooked stool, the other firmly encircling her waist.

His well-defined knuckles applied a slight pressure, sinking into her soft side waist.

His arm was astonishingly steady, the muscular contours under the shirt sleeve were distinct and clear, with a prominent vein running from the inside of his wrist deep into the forearm.

Jean’s upturned nose almost touched his bridge, their eyes met, colliding with his gaze, something unfathomable swirling in his pupils.

She could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent on him, a fresh cedarwood scent, pleasant but making her dizzy.

He had always smelled like this before.

Her heartbeat went arrhythmic, thumping as if pounding on her ribs, fast and heavy, flustered.

Afraid he might hear something, she hastily averted her gaze, long lashes quivering incessantly, her cheeks flushing involuntarily.

"Be careful."

He spoke, his voice lower and huskier than usual, looking at her calmly, his pupils deep.

Jean hurriedly broke free from his palm, almost stumbling as she jumped off the stool, her bare feet landing on the cold floor tiles, making her shiver slightly.

She instinctively tightened the hem of her pajamas, trying to cover the area he had just touched.

She knew, it must have turned red there.

She sighed lightly, lowering her eyes, her slender, dense lashes casting a small shadow underneath.

The side of her thin face blushed, like a careless stroke of rouge on white porcelain.

"Are you alright?"

He asked again, straightening the tilted stool.

She shook her head, her voice even softer than she imagined, almost inaudible: "...I’m fine."

"What do you need?"

His gaze had already moved to the top cabinet.

She pressed her lips together, her fingertips unconsciously curling up.

"Vegetable crackers," she said softly, pausing before adding, "the green box at the very back."

He responded with a simple "Mm," not asking further questions, easily reaching up, his arm’s extending curve neat, effortlessly retrieving the box of crackers she had strained for.

He handed the crackers to her.

Her fingertips brushed against his palm, another uncontrollable flutter in her heart.

She quickly accepted the crackers, her palm clutching the cold cracker box tightly.

Holding the box, she looked toward the door, the man slightly turning his body to make way for her.

She ran past him, her long hair brushing against his chest, the air filled with a faint pomegranate blossom fragrance.

The kitchen was clean and tidy, yet the air became thick and warm.

Justin watched her back, recalling the message Zoe Holden sent in the morning. His parents were coming back to pressure him about marriage, arranging his lifelong affair.

That’s happening next week, just a few days away.

Jean opened the crackers, handing them to Jesse, catching a glimpse of the man leaning against the doorframe, following her steps.

She quietly stepped out while Jesse was still focused on the building blocks, closing the door behind her.

"Is there something you need?"

She felt that Justin had something to say, his expression the same as usual, stern and rugged, yet his eyes had something to say, she could tell.

"I need a favor."

His voice was deep, sounding a bit serious.

"What favor?"

"Meet the parents."

Jean’s eyes widened, wondering if she misheard, was it the kind of meeting-the-parents she thought?

Justin lowered his eyes, appearing a bit melancholic.

His eyelashes were impeccably long, straight and fine, clearly defined, with a small mole at the corner, his gaze cold, his eyes alluring.

"The family is pressuring me, just need to find someone to deal with it."

His voice was slightly hoarse.

"Why not ask Leah Sutton?"

Jean was puzzled, he had a girlfriend, why did he need someone else to meet the parents?

Justin looked up at her again, pausing for a few seconds, frowning slightly.

"No can do."

He didn’t speak immediately because he momentarily forgot who Leah Sutton was.

Jean’s eyes moved slightly, she remembered the Holden family’s uncle and aunt seemed strict, like schoolteachers.

He was afraid Leah Sutton would be troubled by the family, so he was looking for her instead.

"I still have to take care of the child, no time."

Even if she had time, she wouldn’t go, why should she kindly help him, she not only lacked that goodwill, her heart had long gone cold.

"Bring Jesse along as well."

Jean was surprised, looking into Justin’s eyes, did he know what he was saying? Had the uncle and aunt of the Holden family lowered their marriage expectations for him to this extent?

Bringing a child is okay too?

"I disagree."

"I can pay you."

Justin took out his phone, there was no lock screen, nor privacy film, and Jean could see the content on the screen.

The most recent WhatsApp messages were from Leah Sutton and Zoe Holden.

The timestamp showed an hour ago.

"Justin, I made a heartfelt lunch box, shall I have lunch with you at the law firm?"

"UA857, next Wednesday morning at ten, please pick it up."

Justin scrolled for quite a while before finding her chat among a slew of WhatsApp messages.

Jean’s heart felt stuffy, averting her gaze, she said, "This isn’t about money, I really don’t have time to act for you, I have a lot of work to do..."

"Fifty thousand."

"Two hours, just for a meal."

Jean fell silent.

Her two months’ salary, turned into two hours’ wage for him.