The girl raised a smile at the corner of her mouth, without a moment's hesitation, "Yes!"
Right now, she was more in tune with her instincts.
Like is like, don't like is don't like.
Julian Fairchild's thin lips curled up with a smile, Maeve Lane, drunk like a child, had no guard at all.
He silently made a note that he must never let Maeve drink out of his sight in the future.
If she had to drink, it could only be in front of him; he didn't want anyone else to see this side of Maeve.
Maeve clung to him like an inseparable toy, her hands around the man's strong waist, occasionally pinching it.
Julian silently permitted her small actions, took out his phone, and then kissed her lips as a reward, speaking in a husky voice, "Say it again."
Maeve was a little dazed.
The man clasped her with one hand and spread her hand with the other, intertwining their fingers, "Say who do you want?"
