Her own room?
Had he forgotten that he had once demanded she roll off his bed?
Without even a place on the bed, how could this still be considered her room?
Charlotte Green walked in slowly and saw Kevin Cliff leaning against the headboard, clad in a loose black robe, his solid chest muscles faintly visible beneath. His hair was still dripping with water, obviously just out of the shower.
"Come here," Kevin beckoned her with his hand.
Charlotte did go over, but it was to take a hairdryer from the nightstand's drawer and silently started to dry his hair.
He must have called her over to dry his hair for him, so there was no need for him to issue commands one after another.
In fact, she also knew that reaching for the hairdryer was a subconscious action on her part.
Habit, it's a frightening thing.
Even though the hairdryer was designed to be quiet, there was still a fine buzzing sound echoing in the room.
Kevin watched the woman standing in front of him.
