#Chapter185
Sleepless-02
He stops abruptly, so I halt to stop to avoid bumping into him.
/"Call me Mr. Hughes again—/"
/"Or what?/" I cut him off.
/"Trinity,/" he warns.
/"You didn’t answer me./"
/"Bash,/" he responds.
/"What?/"
/"You didn’t answer me, Bash,/" Rephrasing, I emphasize his name. I pout and follow him to his copper colored-wall kitchen. /"Why didn’t you go to work?/" I ask while he’s busy filling up the coffee machine.
He has a perfect and muscular athletic body. He was physically fit before he left, but now he looks more mature, muscle-ripped, and hotter that every woman daydreams of taking him into their beds.
Shitty brain!
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he opens the wall-mounted fridge, taking a transparent plastic container. He opens the microwave, placing two croissants inside, then he closes and presses the screen to set the timer.
