Chapter 18
I looked around the villa, finally finding Damien in the master bedroom on the second floor. He reeked of alcohol as he slumped by the bed. He held a bottle of wine, and a photo frame lay in his arms. Half his shirt buttons were undone, and his broad chest was exposed.
I reached out to take the wine bottle. He let me take it away. However, when I reached for the photo frame, he opened his eyes and stared at me. He looked slightly lost from the drunkenness. “Don’t touch this,” he said huskily.
That piqued my curiosity. I smiled and asked, “Can you show me what it is?”
“No.” His eyes flashed.
I stopped pushing him when I saw how stubborn he was being. Instead, I helped him to his feet before making him lie on the bed. I took his shoes off and went to get him a glass of water.
As he drank the water, I flipped the photo frame over–it was the photo of me kissing his cheek. Why had he acted like it was such a precious thing?
“Why did you have so much to drink, Damien? Why get yourself so drunk? That’s not like you.” I looked at Damien, my tone turning stern.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked at me.
I was taken aback—I understood the heat in his eyes.
He retracted his gaze and put down the glass. He placed the photo frame in the bedside drawer, and his voice went back to its usual coolness as he said, “I heard you’ve regained your memories. That means you know I’m not your boyfriend, right?”
I fell silent. I didn’t know how to tell him that I’d never lost my memories.
Damien lowered his head and voice. “Shouldn’t you be with Jordan now?”
“I… I didn’t actually lose my memories. I’m sorry for using you,” I said, looking guilty.
He was taken aback. I didn’t dare meet his eyes and lowered my head as I continued, “I came here to come clean to you. I actually started out just wanting to use your name to piss Jordan off. I didn’t expect to drag you into this and make you get hurt.”
“So… have you and Jordan broken up?” he asked.
I didn’t expect to hear that. I looked up at him. “I considered us over the moment he pushed me into the ocean. There’s no way I’ll get back together with him.”
“Good.” His eyes lit up, and he looked much better than before. He checked the time before getting out of bed. Then, he asked, “Are you hungry? I’ll cook for you.”
“Uh, no.” I was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “Aren’t you mad?”
“No.” He swayed slightly as he started to leave the room, so I dragged him back and made him get back in bed. I wanted him to rest.
I thought he was hungry, so I wanted to get him something to eat. However, he grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed.
My face came into contact with his bare chest. The warmth made my face burn. I propped myself up and looked down at him while blushing furiously.
I said in a small voice, “Sorry, Mr. Stone. I lost my balance when you pulled me like that.”
“I prefer you calling me Damo. You saw the photo in the living room, right? You should know how I feel about you. I don’t expect you to respond to my feelings immediately–take your time to think about it,” Damien said, his expression softening.
I lowered my eyes and asked softly, “Have you had a crush on me since college?”
“Yeah.”
I leaned close to him and pressed my lips to his when I heard that. I tasted the alcohol on his lips. It seemed to make me drunk, too.
