Chapter 164
Alexander Laurent pushed open the door to the break room.
The laboratory was silent.
He walked to the sink and carefully washed his hands.
Cold water rushed over his fingertips.
He cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.
Droplets trailed down his jawline.
The man walked toward the inner room.
Sophia Sullivan woke at the sound of the door.
The folding bed was tucked behind the door.
The door panel completely concealed her.
She opened her eyes.
Alexander was unbuttoning his shirt.
The fabric slipped away.
Revealing the well-defined muscles of his back.
Sophia held her breath.
Speaking now would be too awkward.
She decisively closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
But the image of his taut skin was seared into her mind.
Alexander changed into a fresh shirt.
As he turned, he glimpsed the folding bed behind the door.
He paused.
Gently, he pulled the door open.
Sophia was curled up on the folding bed.
Her blanket had slipped to the floor.
He picked it up.
Carefully, he draped it back over her.
The girl's eyelashes fluttered slightly.
Her sleeping face was peaceful.
He watched for a moment.
Then abruptly looked away.
He quickly left the inner room.
The tips of his ears felt warm.
Sophia's tense nerves finally relaxed.
He had stayed too long.
She had almost broken character.
His scent still lingered on the blanket.
Clean and crisp, like cedarwood.
Voices drifted from outside the door.
"Alex? Don't you have a class today?"
"Came back to get something."
"Why is your face red?"
"The AC isn't on out here."
"No wonder... Have you seen Sophia?"
"No."
Footsteps faded away.
Sophia sat up.
Her cheeks were still warm.
That afternoon, back in the lab area.
Zoe Langley studied her curiously.
"Sophia, your face is so flushed."
Professor Quincy Evans chimed in. "No AC in the inner room either?"
Sophia gave a vague reply.
"Professor Laurent was all red earlier from the heat too."
Zoe laughed. "What's going on with you two?"
Sophia lowered her head, organizing data.
Her fingertips trembled slightly.
After work, she went grocery shopping.
Her phone screen lit up.
Her father's smiling face appeared on the video call.
"Tending to your plants again?"
"Your mother is busy writing."
Sophia picked up a bite of greens.
"The editor isn't giving her trouble anymore?"
"She blocked him."
David Sullivan sounded resigned.
"Completely cut off contact."
Sophia set down her chopsticks.
"Dad, keep a close eye on Mom lately."
"Don't let Editor Moore near her."
Outside the window, night deepened.
She remembered that 3 a.m. phone call.
The voice of the acclaimed editor, Stone Macmillan, was clear and calm.
"I've finished the manuscript."
"Arrange a meeting with your mother."