CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 69: DRINKING FOR COURAGE!

When he got home, Blake Sinclair carried the groceries he bought into the kitchen.

The sound of running water and chopping vegetables came from the kitchen while Holly half-reclined on the sofa, messaging Celia.

She stabbed a piece of cut watermelon into her mouth as her phone vibrated—it was a message from Celia.

[Same as I said before, just go for it! Might as well do it!]

[You’ve bought everything, don’t waste it! The honeymoon guide I sent you really works!]

[President Sinclair is definitely hinting at you...]

Celia’s messages came one after another, clearly relishing the drama.

The supermarket shopping bag was still on the coffee table, fully packed and bulging.

But of all things, Holly immediately noticed the conspicuous little blue box. It was like she got burned; she quickly looked away.

Actually, she didn’t need Celia to say it; she knew it in her heart.

Almost everything that could happen between them had already happened, except for that final step.

During dinner, Holly was absent-minded.

"Try the ribs, how do they taste?"

Blake picked up some ribs and put them in her bowl. She took a small bite. "Delicious."

Blake took a piece himself and casually asked, "How do they compare to your neighbor brother’s cooking?"

Holly: "..."

Here it comes again.

She simply put down her chopsticks, folded her hands on the table, and couldn’t help but ask, "Blake Sinclair, are you jealous?"

His chopsticks paused mid-air, the light casting shadows over his eyes, concealing his emotions.

Seeing he didn’t reply, Holly felt a bit awkward.

Why did she have to blurt that out? He is Blake Sinclair; how could he be jealous?

She laughed self-deprecatingly and began to ponder how to smooth things over.

But Blake put down his chopsticks and looked up at her.

"I thought... I made it quite obvious." His voice was low, with a tinge of resignation.

Holly was stunned.

She expected him to deny, to change the topic, or even pretend not to understand, but she hadn’t expected him to admit it so bluntly.

His straightforward admission sent all her pre-prepared words running back to where they came from.

But how can he possibly be jealous...

Holly hastily picked up her chopsticks and poked at the rice in her bowl, "Aiden and I... there’s really nothing, we’re just ordinary neighbors who played well together when we were kids."

"I know."

"Then why do you..." keep bringing it up, getting jealous out of nowhere.

She didn’t finish, but Blake understood.

He put down his chopsticks and leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on her, "Knowing is one thing, but..."

His gaze wasn’t aggressive, yet it made Holly feel like there was nowhere to hide.

"Holly."

He called her name.

"I understand the logic, but jealousy is beyond reason’s control."

The air seemed to solidify, Holly tightened her grip on the chopsticks.

She took a few bites of rice and left a sentence, "You eat slowly, I’m going back to my room" before leaving.

The bathroom was filled with mist.

The door opened, Holly came out wiping her hair, planning to get the hairdryer, but as soon as she opened the drawer, she saw two blue boxes inside.

They definitely weren’t here last time.

She looked at the boxes, her heart thumping, lying there blatantly like they were foreshadowing what’s about to happen.

At this moment, footsteps approached from outside.

Holly swiftly grabbed the hairdryer, slammed the drawer shut with a bang, and sat down on the bed, turning it on.

The hairdryer buzzed twice, she pretended to be calm, haphazardly drying her hair, but her eyes couldn’t help glancing toward the door.

Yet after a while, no one came in.

Holly turned off the hairdryer, hearing the sound of running water from the adjacent bathroom.

He’s taking a shower!

Thinking about what’s going to happen next, her heart rate unconsciously sped up.

But then she thought about Celia’s words...

It’s just a matter of time, it has to happen, everything’s been bought...

She took a deep breath, put down the hairdryer, swallowed two hangover pills, and sneaked into the kitchen while Blake was still showering.

With a flashlight in hand, she rummaged through the freezer for the opened bottle of plum wine.

It was left over from Celia’s last visit.

She poured half a glass, and the amber liquid shimmered under the moonlight.

Tilted her head back and drank it all, the alcohol sliding from her throat to her stomach, sweet, with the plum flavor overtaking the alcohol taste.

It doesn’t seem... to feel like anything?

Just a small step away from courage! Already at this point...

She steeled her nerves, decisively put down the cup, and drank the remaining plum wine straight from the bottleneck.

With several gulps, whether it was psychological or otherwise, she indeed felt braver, more relaxed.

She exhaled, then quietly returned to the bedroom.

Soon after the water stopped, Blake came in, towel-drying his damp hair.

Perhaps having just showered, there was still moisture on him, and his voice was husky with dampness, "What’s up? I thought I heard you going in and out."

"Nothing." Holly turned her face away, "Just went to have some water."

He walked over, sat beside her, and gently lifted the strands of hair resting on her shoulder, frowning, "Your hair’s not dry yet?"

Holly: "Huh? Oh, I’ll dry it now."

She hurriedly picked up the hairdryer and switched it on.

The hot air was blowing, but whether it was from the half bottle of plum wine kicking in or something else, her face started to heat up, and combined with the hairdryer’s heat, it felt like the surrounding air was thin.

"Let me do it." He took the hairdryer, standing behind her.

The hum of the hairdryer buzzed, making Holly’s back feel hot.

After drying her hair, Holly slipped under the covers, pretending to be looking at her phone.

Blake finished drying his hair and looked at the person half-lying on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed unnaturally, her eyes seemed to have a layer of haze.

The hot air carried a faint, sweet scent of alcohol, like fermented plum aroma.

He knowingly curled his lips but didn’t expose her, the tenderness in his eyes deepening.

"It’s late, time for bed?" He reached out to turn off the light, lifted the blanket, and lay down.

"...Alright." Holly’s heart suddenly raced.

The room was left with faint moonlight.

The darkness amplified every sense, Holly could clearly hear their breaths.

Interwoven.

The air was like it was coated with honey, every second sticky with probing.

Holly shifted slightly, then his arm extended, wrapping around her waist, pulling her over.

His warmth seeped through her pajamas, Holly stiffened for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.

She felt the half bottle of wine she drank earlier ignite in her, spreading from her stomach to her ears and neck.

Blake held her, burying his face into her neck.

His breath fanned her neck; Holly was a bit nervous, afraid he would smell the alcohol.

Fortunately, he didn’t mention it.

Blake’s hand rested on her lower back, his kiss quickly descended, trailing down her neck.

The alcohol amplified internal desires, Holly slowly tilted her head, trying to find his outline in the dark.

"Can I?"

He whispered hoarsely against her forehead.

In the dark, his eyes were astonishingly bright.

Holly nodded slightly, then realized he couldn’t see it, so she softly said, "...Mm."

The next second, his kiss came down.

No longer the tentative taste of before but rather with a hint of restrained control.

"Holly, look at me."

He reached to the bedside table drawer, took something, and placed it in her slightly sweaty hand, "You do it."

Holly’s fingers trembled slightly, it was a bit hot to the touch!

She fumbled for the tear in the packaging, the plastic rustling loudly in the room. Just as she managed to tear a small opening, a familiar cramp hit her lower abdomen.