?Chapter 249:


    Vincent finally understood Katelyn’s point.


    His ce was upstairs, and hers was directly below. That made them neighbors, indeed.


    He quirked an eyebrow and moved toward her, closing the gap between them.


    The atmosphere warmed as he drew nearer.


    Katelyn sat on the couch, watching hime closer until their breathing almost mingled.


    She remained seated, her eyes clouded with confusion.


    “Why are youing so close all of a sudden?”


    Under normal circumstances, being this near him would make her cheeks flush and her heart race.


    Now, however, her eyes merely showed uncertainty.


    With a smile, Vincent reached out to tousle her hair.


    “Just seeing if you’re still drunk.”


    Clutching a pillow, Katelyn replied immediately, “How could an apple drink too much?”


    Vincent found himself at a loss for words. She had a point. He considered that she might not be fully sober yet—fancying herself an apple—but her mind was still sharp. Was she always like this when tipsy?


    Vincent rified calmly, “Apples can’t get drunk, indeed. But you’ve mixed something up. You live up here, and I’m downstairs.”


    Vincent knew his boundaries. Her bedroom was on the second floor, a space he wouldn’t invade.


    Katelyn considered this and nodded. “That does make sense.”


    Keep reading at gαlηovels?c〇m


    She stood and started toward the stairs.


    Vincent kept an eye on her, prepared to assist if necessary. Fortunately, she ascended without any trouble. Reaching the top, she looked back at him.


    “Oh, and you haven’t said goodnight to me yet.”


    Vincent’s smile broadened slightly, and his gaze softened, filled with a tenderness that was unmistakable. “Goodnight, apple.”


    “Goodnight, pear,” Katelyn responded, content, and proceeded upstairs.


    Vincent walked over and turned off the main light in the room, leaving only the soft glow of themp.


    He then texted Samuel, saying, “Don’t wait up for me. Head back and get some rest.”


    Samuel, who was drinking water, almost spat it out when he saw the message.


    He had returned Katelyn’s pick-up and Vincent after they went inside, but Vincent’s message was unexpected.


    “Does this mean things are finally moving forward between Miss Bailey and Mr. Adams?” Samuel thought, grinning. He quickly sent a reply.


    “May you and Miss Bailey have a memorable night!”


    Vincent’s reply was brief and to the point: “Fuck off!”


    Vincent settled on the sofa, staying alert in case Katelyn needed his help again.


    Luckily, Katelyn’s couch was spacious enough to amodate his tall framefortably.


    Vincent ced his hands behind his head, using them as an improvised pillow, yet he couldn’t help but picture Katelyn’s inebriated antics from earlier that night.


    He made up his mind then: he would not let Katelyn drink so much again. What if she mistook herself for an apple and wandered into some real danger?


    The next morning, Katelyn awoke with a splitting headache. She massaged her temples, trying to piece together the events of the previous night.


    How on earth did she get so drunk on fruit wine, which was so lightly alcoholic? Perhaps the refreshing taste had masked the alcohol, causing her to underestimate its effects.


    Despite her efforts, she couldn’t recall anything after the party. Either Vincent or another colleague must have escorted her home.


    Descending the stairs in her slippers, Katelyn noticed a note on the living room table, simr to one Vincent had left previously. Vincent’s handwriting was unmistakable and bold.


    “Take the day off and rest. Don’t need to go to work today.”


    It appeared he had granted her the day off.


    She was in no shape to work today anyway. Just then, the doorbell chimed.


    .


    .


    .