Chapter 132
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Dude, I was seriously feeling dizzy. Red wine always packed a punch, and I definitely didn’t skimp on it during the meal.
But if I were to tell Hogan that straight up, he’d probably think I was just putting on airs. So replied. “Thanks to Mr. Zade and President Stapleton’s care, I’m feeling much better now.”
Hearing that, Hogan lifted his eyelids, a hint of coldness flashing through those attractive eyes. When he was silent, his whole face exuded a natural authority that didn’t even need to get angry to be intimidating.
I didn’t want to bore him or bug him, so I tentatively asked, “Does Mr. Zade have any other instructions?
If not, I’d got real work to attend to. It was a casual question, but the next second, I heard Hogan order, “Don’t just stand there like a pole, come over and give me a hand.”
I thought I heard wrong. As my gaze swept over Hogan’s sharply chiseled profile, I saw he still looked like he was just resting, but with a touch more weariness between his brows.
Gave him a hand? Did I hear that right? After that whole dinner ordeal, the one who had it tough was Zachary, Hogan had only a couple of drinks, tops: he needed help?
“What’s the matter, not keen on it?”
His cool gaze fell on my face again, and I was momentarily taken aback, half–jokingly saying, “I remember Mr. Zade can hold his liquor quite well.”
“Wouldn’t that be thanks to Ms. March’s kindness?”
His mocking tone hit my ears, coupled with Hogan’s piercing look, and all of a sudden, I was hit with this weird feeling of being seen through, a guilt that crept up on me.
Somehow, I ended up doing as Hogan instructed, and supported him. In an instant, the guy leaned a good chunk of his weight on me, and I nearly lost my balance..
It seemed like Hogan was actually drunk, not faking it. The familiar scent of soap mixed with the rich aroma of red wine spread through my nose. I steadied myself and focused hard on helping him move forward.
A quarter of an hour later, Hogan and I arrived inside a standalone thatched cottage. The place was fully equipped and had a great view–clearly a rare suite,
“Mr. Zade, the bed’s on your right.”
Hogan barely opened his eyes, scanned the room with a blurry look, and then pointed to the bathtub, saying, “Honey, I want to take a bath.”
I felt a twitch in my forehead and was instantly frozen on the spot. This scenario seemed all too tamiliar.
Chapter 132
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In fact, Hogan could usually handle his drinks just fine, but he didn’t like drinking, and he liked the lingering smell of alcohol on him even less. So every time he finished drinking and got back to the apartment, the first thing he did was mumble about me running a bath for him.
Just like now. But Hogan, were you really that sloshed? I was no longer the one who ran baths
for you.
With that thought, I pressed down the bitterness in my heart and calmly said. “Wait a moment. I’ll call Zachary over.”
As I spoke. I withdrew my arm that Hogan was gripping tightly. In a flash, he suddenly pulled me in, yanking me into his embrace.
“Honey, are you disgusted with me?” Hogan held me tight. “Then how could you bear to let another woman ply me with drinks?”
This was getting more and more absurd. Hogan exercised regularly, his arms were strong and toned, and he was incredibly strong. I struggled a couple of times before I managed to get
some space.
“Hogan,” looking into his cloudy eyes, I lowered my voice and said seriously. “I’m really getting angry now.”
Hogan paused, gave me a pitiful look, then with a whine, and said. “I’ll listen to you, honey.” He didn’t look anything like his usual untouchable, high–and–mighty self. Right now, Hogan seemed more like an obedient, henpecked husband.
It was a side of him I had never seen before. I couldn’t help but wonder, so this was how he acted when he was drunk in front of Cecilia? All docile like this?
With that thought, a tinge of heartache involuntarily surged in my heart. Me staying here would definitely be inappropriate.
