In the morning, warm rays of sunlight poured through the window from the thin clouds. The hazy halo hit the thin blanket. It was quiet and serene.
Susan's curled eyelashes trembled a few times. The back of her fair-skinned hand was placed on top of her head. She patted gently.
Her head hurt.
The room was so quiet that only her breathing could be heard. She opened her eyes after a while and was momentarily dumbfounded.
It was a gray-white background wall in front of her. European-style corridor lamps hung on both sides. The solid wood furniture and the gray silk blanket on her body were completely unfamiliar.
Susan sat up abruptly. The blanket slipped off her shoulders and she felt slightly cold. She looked down and saw that she was wearing a white chiffon nightgown. Her body didn't feel uncomfortable but… who helped her change her clothes?
She looked to the left and the clothes she wore yesterday were neatly arranged on the bedside table. It was obvious they had been washed.
Susan lifted the blanket and got off the bed. When she stepped on the soft Persian carpet, she felt helpless.
Where was this?
She remembered that she went to another music bar alone yesterday night. Later, she drank a bit too much and someone seemed to have shown up.
Susan knocked on her head irritably. She couldn't remember!
She went around the bed and picked up her clothes. She was about to remove her nightgown when the door was knocked on twice and opened.
Susan subconsciously hugged her clothes in front of her. She turned her head and said, puzzled, "May I check where this…"
The middle-aged woman at the door was wearing an apron. When she saw Susan, she was surprised for a moment. Then, she said with a smile, "Miss, you're awake. Hurry downstairs for breakfast. Sir's waiting for you!"
Sir?
After saying this, the other party hurriedly turned around and left. Susan opened her mouth and suppressed the doubts in her heart. She changed into her clothes and headed downstairs.
Susan walked down the stairs and her eyes were full of doubt. When she saw the man seated at the dining table, she blurted out in shock, "Brad Quin?"
The man held a cup of coffee in his hands. He took a sip and his expression was indifferent. "You're awake?"
Susan looked down at herself and didn't feel that something was amiss. She walked towards the dining table and stared at him in confusion. "This is… your house?"
"Yes."
"Why am I here?"
Susan sized up the handsome and gentle man. Different from the suit he wore at work, he was wearing a thin-knitted shirt and casual dark gray pants now. He sat at the dining table with a cup of coffee and looked like a relaxed and comfortable prince.
The man put down his cup and said flatly, "You were drunk and we coincidentally bumped into each other."
"Coincidentally bumped into each other? Then you brought me back to your house? That isn't appropriate, right?"
"Otherwise?" Brad raised his eyebrows slightly and his gaze was cold. "Leave you alone at the bar? Let you fend for yourself?"
Susan choked and felt a little emotional. She wasn't used to a man's matter-of-fact look. She raised her chin and retorted, "Well… you could have sent me home."
Upon hearing this, Brad's eyes darkened. He looked at her deeply and said meaningfully, "You threw up all over last night. You were crying and kicking up a fuss, and kept screaming for Tom…"
"Thank you for bringing me back!" Susan's fingers tightened and she gritted her teeth to interrupt the man's narration.
She bowed her head slightly. Her lowered eyebrows were stained with anxiety and fatigue.
She was hugging Brad last night and screaming for Tom?
Why did she have such poor alcohol tolerance levels?!
The man captured Susan's lowered eyebrows and obedient look.
His thin lips curved slightly. He picked up the iPad by the side and said gently, "Sit down and have breakfast. I'll get the driver to send you home later."