Chapter 22
“Yep. She bought it on Amazon. Said it cost her 70 bucks, and she was really bummed about it,” Heath said, his voice showing a bit of affection.
Winston grimaced. “Oh, just stop it. I’ll go first.”
It was just a thermos box. They probably had the same model all over town. Winston headed downstairs.
Fabian was waiting. “Mr. Moody, where to now?”
“Just take me home,” Winston climbed into his car and quietly said, thinking about the small apartment he shared with Chelsea.
“Alright.”
With Heath in the hospital, Abe was now running the design department, and Chelsea could feel the pressure. She was well aware that Abe was targeting her.
“Chelsea, this design draft doesn’t work. Change the style,” he snapped, clearly unhappy. “And I want to see the new design first thing in the morning. If you can’t get it done, you’re out!”
Abe didn’t know how Chelsea had crossed Julia, and there was no way he’d risk taking the wrong side. After all, Julia was the boss’s cousin.
Knowing Julia’s influence was behind this, Chelsea gathered back all her designs. “Got it,” she said softly.
Back at her desk, Julia was glowing, soaking up compliments from her coworkers.
“Julia, you’re taking care of Mr. Carson every day–when are you two finally going to become a couple?” someone asked teasingly.
“Mrs. Carson really likes me,” Julia said, glancing over at Chelsea with a smirk. “Oh, Chelsea, Mrs. Carson mentioned that Heath will be out of the hospital soon, so you can stop bringing him soup.”
“What? Chelsea secretly sent soup to Mr. Carson?” someone chimed in, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Seriously, Chelsea? You know Julia and Mr. Carson are practically an item, and you still did something like that? Do you want to be a third wheel?”
Chelsea’s coworkers started to gossip, and Chelsea couldn’t help but find their reactions amusing. Julia was really good at playing the victim.
Standing up, Chelsea shot a glance at Julia and said, “Well, you have my blessings.” She meant it. She wanted Heath to be happy, no matter who it was with.
After packing up her stuff, Chelsea asked Abe for a day off and headed home. Julia, taking her words the wrong way, blushed in anger.
Chelsea came home with a new wave of work waiting for her. Winston opened the door and caught sight of her on the floor. her head down, sketching away.
She had swapped out her suit for a comfy light pink sweater, her long hair casually pulled back, with strands falling softly around her face. With a graceful hand, she guided the pen across the paper, crafting her design in smooth strokes.
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Chapter 22
Looking way more relaxed than usual, Chelsea wore black–rimmed glasses that couldn’t quite hide her natural beauty.
Winston made a quiet noise as he opened the shoebox.
“Hey, you’re home.” Chelsea glanced up and smiled. “Winston, could you order takeout tonight? I’ve got a design due in the morning and I’m kind of pressed for time.”
She knew Abe could be difficult, so she needed to hustle to get her work done.
Winston walked into the living room and admired her designs from a distance. They looked even better than he had imagined. Chelsea was incredibly talented and always put in the effort.
“I’ll whip something up tonight. What do you feel like eating?” he asked.
“Just whatever’s fine,” Chelsea replied, relieved he would take care of dinner. She turned back to her work, diving back in.
After changing into his loungewear, Winston headed to the kitchen. The ingredients in the fridge were usually bought and used right away, but since Chelsea was too busy to go to the grocery store today, the fridge was empty.
Winston opted to place an order for the supermarket to deliver what they needed.
While waiting, he set up his laptop on the dining room table and started working on some tasks. The apartment felt just the right size, cozy enough that they had their own spaces without getting in each other’s way.
When the delivery guy showed up with the fresh groceries, Winston grabbed them and couldn’t help but notice that Chelsea was already sprawled out on the coffee table.
She looked completely worn out and was probably in deep sleep.
Winston set the food down and walked over to her. “Hey, Chelsea,” he said gently.
‘If she’s tired, she should get some rest. Why does she have to push herself?‘ he thought.
Even as he spoke, Chelsea slept soundly, oblivious to his concern. He rubbed his brow, knelt, and carefully picked her up.
She felt light in his arms, and a subtle scent surrounded him, making him smile as he tucked her in for some much–needed
rest.
Chelsea’s room was someplace he hardly ever visited. What had once felt cold and uninviting now radiated a cozy, feminine
vibe.
Her favorite things were scattered everywhere, and on the bed sat a big, light pink pillow that caught his eye.
He gently pulled back the covers and laid Chelsea down. Her skin felt like satin, and just as he released her, she reached for his hand with one of hers, her pink lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something.
He frowned and leaned closer, trying to catch her words. But then, almost out of nowhere, she shifted and brushed her lips against his.
In that split second, Winston’s eyes went wide. He remembered that he and Chelsea had been intimate before, but they had both been drugged at the time.
He had never actually kissed her before and never thought he would.
But now, this kiss–light as a cherry blossom–wasn’t about desire at all. It drifted softly and landed right on his heart, completely catching him off guard.
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Chapter 22
Winston lowered his head. Her skin was creamy, her eyebrows were beautiful, and her pink fists trembled slightly as they rested on his waist.
She frowned, probably feeling a bit uncomfortable, and tried to pull away.
Without really thinking about it, he gently pressed the back of her head to stop her as if an unexpected rush of emotion was flowing through him.
When he finally snapped back to reality, it hit him just how reckless he had been. She looked uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed, and her brows knit together.
He let go, breathing heavily. He couldn’t believe he lost control and actually wanted to make something happen when Chelsea was sleeping.
He stepped back a few paces, feeling like a man about to drown, then tucked her in and fled the scene.
Once back in his room, Winston leaned against the door as if he had just come up for air, his heart pounding in his chest.
There was a voice in the back of his mind—almost yelling–that pushed him to go deeper with his thoughts. After all, they had done it before.
He felt a strange longing for her, and that definitely wasn’t a good sign. Winston was too clear–headed for this. He understood better than anyone how emotions could mess with his mind.
Of all people, he shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially not about Chelsea.
He lifted his hand and started to think about their marriage and how that whole thing should go down.
Chelsea woke up at 4 a.m., completely in the dark about what had happened the night before.
After a quick wash–up, she dove back into her drawings and managed to finish them by six–thirty. Just as she was about to make breakfast, she heard a soft “Squeak.”
Winston stepped out and noticed she was awake. His expression changed, growing a bit colder as memories of the previous night flashed through his mind.
“Good morning, Winston,” Chelsea greeted him, feeling a bit awkward about skipping dinner last night. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Winston looked into her bright eyes and finally said, “You don’t have to make my meals anymore.”
Chelsea was confused by his tone, her gaze dropping slightly. “What’s wrong?” She wondered if she had messed up somehow. He seemed so upset.
“Nothing, I just think we should keep our distance.” He had been really invested in her. Ever since that time she hurt her back, and he helped her out, it felt like their relationship had really shifted.
It was weirdly smooth. This wasn’t a good sign.
Chelsea’s heart raced as she tried to figure out what she had done wrong. She wanted to ask him to explain, but she suddenly realized she wasn’t in a position to do that.
When he took her in, he had already done her a big favor.
Finally, she said, a bit stiffly, “I’ll be moving out once I get paid this month. Thanks for letting me stay.”
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Chapter 22
He was right. They definitely needed to keep some space. They weren’t a real couple, after all. Living together just wasn’t going to work, so it looked like she really needed to think about moving out.
Winston watched her head back to her room, feeling a lump in his throat before he finally slipped away.
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