"Just a minute. I''ll fry you a couple of eggs. We''ll talk after you''ve had something to eat. Can''t do this on an empty stomach."
He reached for the eggs, only to realize that the dozens of fresh eggs he''d just had delivered were all gone!
The pile of ck stuff in the trash was the sum of his ''masterpieces.''
He wasn''t much of a cook...
To be precise, it wasn''t that he wasn''t much of a cook, it was that he couldn''t cook at all.
He''d never been in a kitchen before and had zero interest in it.
He was only attempting it today because of the special circumstances.
This ce was far from the city, making food delivery difficult. And after their long night, Winona''s energy waspletely drained.
She hadn''t eaten breakfast or lunch; she must be starving by now.
That''s why he''d ventured into the kitchen, hoping to fry a couple of eggs to help her recover.
He had even looked up a tutorial video online. It looked so simple when other people did it.
Turn on the heat, add oil, crack the eggs...
He followed the steps, but not a single one turned out right.
It was a ssic case of ''looks easy, fails hard.''
Keaton was mortified.
"...Fried eggs aren''t that good anyway. How about some oatmeal? It''s good for your stomach. I made you some."
He bent down to get a small bowl from the cab and went to serve Winona.
But as soon as he lifted the pot lid, Keaton froze. "!"
The ''oatmeal'' in the pot was crystal clear; you could see right to the bottom.
He''d forgotten to add the oats.
He''d just boiled a pot of water.
Keaton: "..."
He was dying of embarrassment. He turned to Winona, looking like a big dog that
had just been caught doing something wrong.
"Maybe I should just take you out to eat?"
Winona caught her lower lip between her teeth. "....."
Keaton immediately said, "If you don''t want to go out, I''ll order delivery for you might just take
white, so you have to hang
bit
swrel
on a
He frantically pulled out his phone to order, but Winona spoke up.
"Don''t bother. I''m not hungry."
Keaton looked up. "It''s the middle of the afternoon. You''re not hungry?" "Nope, not hungry."
Winona walked down the rest of the
stairs. Under his gaze, she shoved her hands in her pockets and,
feighingposure headed for the entryway.
Seeing that she was about to leave, Keaton rushed over and grabbed her wrist. "Winona!"
Winona turned back. Seeing the hickey on his corbone made her ears burn.
She quickly averted her eyes, pretending to be calm. "What is it?"
Keaton was half a head taller than her. He looked down at her, a look ofplete helplessness on his face.
"Last night..."
Winona forced herself to say, "We''re both adults. What happenedst night is nothing to worry about."
Keaton: "..."
Winona continued, "It was just a drunken mistake. Don''t take it seriously. It''s already in the past."
Keaton studied her expression suspiciously. "You''re not mad?"
Winona curved her red lips into a smile. "What''s there to be mad about? It was mutual. It''s not like you forced me. Are you mad?"
Keaton quickly shook his head. "I wouldn''t dare..... I mean, no. I''m not mad."
"There you go," Winona said. "Now let go of me. I have things to do, I have to go."
Keaton didn''t let go. He held her arm even tighter.
He was gripping her arm so tightly that the muscles in his forearm rippled with tension.
An image shed through Winona''s mind ofst night, of him pinning her hands down, his body moving forcefully over hers...
The veins in his arms had been bulging just like that.
ve
Winona''s heart sped up. She swallowed discreetly and teased with a forced, lighthearted smile, "Keaton, why are you so uptight? This isn''t like you. After all the women you''ve slept with youre really going to get hung up on a little drunken hookup?"
Keaton frowned, his expression serious. "You''re different from them."