"Are you busy?" Summer Lancaster asked.
"No. Don't flatter yourself. I didn't come back for you." Summer Lancaster smiled faintly. 'Not back for her? Then what is he doing here? He doesn't have any of his things here.'
Summer Lancaster was starting to feel drowsy again. That evening, she was woken by the smell of something burning. She jumped in surprise. 'Is Kenneth Yates cooking? Please don't let him burn the kitchen down.' Just as she was about to get up, Kenneth Yates walked in with a bowl.
"Have some porridge. My masterpiece." Kenneth Yates blew on it and then brought the spoon to Summer Lancaster's lips.
Summer Lancaster was about to refuse, but she had never had his cooking before. She was a little curious, and also touched.
"COUGH COUGH... COUGH." Kenneth Yates put down the bowl and patted her back.
"What's wrong? Awed by my divine culinary skills, are you?" Summer Lancaster laughed. 'This narcissism must be genetic. She knew Ethan Yates was incredibly narcissistic, but she'd never seen Kenneth Yates act like this. They really are brothers.' Summer gave Kenneth a mental thumbs-up for this first display of his... talent.
"Why don't you try it yourself, Chef Yates?" Kenneth Yates picked up the bowl, took a bite, and then dashed to the bathroom. 'Is this even fit for human consumption? He'd excelled at everything since he was a child; nothing could stump him. But now, he'd finally hit a stumbling block. It was more than just a little frustrating.'
Summer Lancaster watched him come out of the bathroom with a strange expression on his face and teased him with a smile. "So, Chef Yates? How was it? Pretty divine, huh?" Kenneth Yates shot her a glare but didn't say a word.
In the end, Summer Lancaster made dinner. It was just a simple pot of noodles, but Kenneth Yates ate with great satisfaction.
That night, Summer Lancaster locked her door again and went to sleep with peace of mind. But she didn't know that after she was asleep, Kenneth Yates used a key to open the door, walk to her bedside, and gaze at her sleeping face.
He had liked her a lot when they were children. But the first time he saw her at his house, she was having a great time playing with his younger brother. The young Kenneth Yates was proud, so he treated her with a cool indifference. After that, Summer Lancaster came over frequently, but every time, it ended up being her and Ethan Yates playing happily together. Once, Summer Lancaster gave him thirteen champagne roses. He didn't know if she was aware of their meaning—thirteen champagne roses symbolize eternal friendship. He didn't want friendship, so he threw the flowers away right in front of her. After that, Summer Lancaster rarely came to his house. In high school, Kenneth Yates learned that Summer Lancaster had liked him since they were little, but that was after he had started dating Thea Shaw, so he didn't pay it much mind. In recent years, Thea Shaw's departure had hit him hard, and he had misdirected all his anger onto Summer. Thinking about it now, he had been truly childish.
He gently lifted the covers and lay down on the right side of the bed...
That night, Kenneth Yates slept exceptionally well...
The first rays of dawn streamed in, painting a beautiful, natural picture of the two people in the bed. Summer Lancaster was bear-hugging Kenneth Yates. The sunlight was a bit glaring. Summer Lancaster slowly opened her eyes, and a handsome, magnified face appeared unobstructed before her. The man's features were sharp and well-defined; though they looked cold, they always gave off a comfortable feeling. Summer Lancaster closed her eyes again. 'Is it a bit too much to be having a wet dream first thing in the morning?'
But in the next instant, the man from her dream moved, holding her even tighter. Summer Lancaster's eyes flew open. 'This isn't a dream!' The man with the 360-degree-perfect face was looking right at her.
Summer Lancaster struggled out of his embrace, scrambling and tumbling to the corner of the bed, not forgetting to wrap the blanket around herself. Kenneth Yates was amused by her actions.
"You... How did you get in here? I... I locked the door." A girlish coyness appeared on Summer Lancaster's face.
"Have you never heard of a little thing called a key, woman?"
'Kenneth Yates had changed. As a child, he was gentle and refined. How did he become so... unreasonable, and so... shameless...'