Chapter 4

To be honest, I’m no saint, but I’m not some naive virgin either.

Everything I’ve done has always been on my own terms.

But what happened today—first Reginald’s teasing words, then the intense scene between Jessica and Martin, and finally being sandwiched between them—was too much.

It was all too fast. I had no time to mentally prepare, and I couldn’t handle it.

I grabbed the fruit knife from the coffee table and pressed it to my throat. "Stop right now, or I’ll kill myself!"

Reginald froze in shock.

Jessica, still naked, lunged at me. "Vivian, what are you doing? Don’t be stupid!"

Truthfully, I didn’t even know why I did it. I just didn’t want to be looked down on by these foreign men.

Reginald and Martin, seemingly afraid things would escalate, pulled on their shorts and silently retreated to the bedroom.

Relieved, I dropped the knife.

Once they were gone, Jessica leaned in close, whispering, "Since when did you become such a prude? Since when do you turn down a man like that?"

Still shaken, I felt too drained to respond.

Instead, I shot back, "What about you? I thought you were with Jason—" I cut myself off, suddenly paranoid about being overheard.

Too exhausted to think straight, I dragged myself out of bed, locked the door securely, and then asked, "What happened with Jason? Why are you with Martin now?"

Jessica’s face darkened.

She and Jason had been college sweethearts, together for nearly two years.

But recently, he’d seen her having dinner with a coworker and accused her of cheating.

They’d fought bitterly, and things ended badly.

Then she’d run into Martin on campus.

Martin was smooth-talking, and within minutes, he had her smiling again.

One thing led to another, and before she knew it, she was in his bed.

I smacked her thigh. "You’re going to get yourself killed."

Jessica just laughed and pushed me down, grinning. "That’s why I need my best friend to share the fun."

My stomach twisted. After a pause, I asked quietly, "What do you really think of them?"

Jessica shrugged. "Who cares? It’s just fun. It’s not like we’re getting married."

Her carefree smile made my chest ache.

Honestly, I’d never had a good impression of men like them.

The kind who think with their lower half, who treat women like conquests—I’d always kept my distance.

But then again, Reginald had backed off without argument. No excuses, no pressure.

Maybe I’d misjudged them.

But if I was wrong, how was I supposed to face them tomorrow?

Exhausted and conflicted, I finally drifted off.

The next morning, I woke naturally to sunlight streaming through the curtains.

It was past ten.

Jessica was still asleep beside me, and no one had knocked on the door.

After a long hesitation, I finally worked up the courage to unlock it.

The door creaked open, and sunlight flooded in.

On the dining table was a spread of breakfast dishes—toast, sandwiches, two steaming mugs of milk.

I stood frozen in surprise.

Footsteps approached, and a tall figure appeared.

Reginald.

He wore an apron, wiping his hands casually as he smiled. "You’re awake."

He acted as if last night’s awkwardness had never happened. I nodded stiffly.

"I made breakfast," he said warmly. "Hope you like it."

I sat at the table, eyeing the food. It actually looked good.

"Consider it an apology for last night."

My face burned at the reminder. I avoided his gaze.

Reginald sat across from me, his expression serious. "I’m sorry. I was out of line. I just… really like you."

The air between us was thick with tension. I wanted to leave immediately.

But Jessica refused to go, dragging me into staying.

Reginald and Martin, both full of restless energy, often wandered around shirtless in the summer heat.

The raw masculinity was overwhelming. I slept clutching the blankets every night.

Jessica, on the other hand, was having the time of her life, glued to Martin like a second skin.

And Reginald’s gaze grew bolder by the day.

Then, finally, he showed his true colors.