Chapter 142
When I was about to take a bite, Max stormed out with a frosty look on his face.
I pouted and snatched the spoon from Richard, saying, "Max is like a block of ice, so hard to crack."
Richard, lost in thought for a moment, finally said, "But I think he treats you differently."
I took a big bite of the burger.
With a dismissive tone, I said, "How different can it be? He just said with a straight face that he couldn't fall for a patient."
Richard laughed at me, "You really hit your head hard, didn't you? He just doesn't like patients, but he never said he doesn't like Claire Floyd. Even if he doesn't like Claire Floyd, maybe he could like Ms. Floyd, right?" I gave him a thumbs-up.
After eating, I took a nap, confident that Richard wouldn't leave me alone with the IV line.
Feeling somewhat refreshed, I woke up to find Max sitting by my bed.
Realizing I had slept through the afternoon, the setting sun cast a beautiful glow on Max's face through the window, his long lashes casting shadows under his eyes, making him look even more stunning.
His features were more delicate than most girls', and with a more lively personality, I bet he'd be incredibly popular.
Was he tired? Why did he fall asleep here?
Noticing the IV had been removed, I realized he had been taking care of me.
Sensing I was awake, he slowly opened his eyes, rubbed his temples, and stood up to ask, "Do you want to stay at the hospital tonight, or go home?"
He was offering to take me home.
"Back to your place for some of your homemade spaghetti?" I teased him.
"Seems like you're feeling pretty good. No spaghetti tonight," he refused, somewhat disappointingly.
"But you need to eat well when you're hurt," he added, seemingly giving in a bit.
I looked up eagerly, meeting his eyes before he quickly looked away, and then I smiled, "Max, do you like Claire Floyd?"
The air felt heavy for a moment, but he didn't answer.
"What about Ms. Floyd?"
Still no response.
"Strong silent type, huh? I guess I won't be going to your place for dinner tonight!" I said as I reached for my phone to call Richard. How could he just leave me with Max?
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"I've already bought the ingredients," Max said, sounding a bit anxious.
I intentionally turned away, pretending to ignore him.
"I got your favorite, barbecue ribs."
I was stunned.
The only person in the world who
knew I loved barbecue ribs was Richard. The Harts never liked it, so I never mentioned my preference.
Whenever I craved it, I'd secretly ask
Richard.
That's when Claude thought I had a crush on Richard.
But really, I just wanted to enjoy some barbecue ribs. Back then, liking Claude felt like an obsession. If he didn't like it, I wouldn't dare to admit I did.
"Pork knuckles? Make sure I get the
lean parts, you can have the fatty
bits," I said, my eyes sparkling with excitement. It was my first time having it since coming back.
QUMS
Max's expression was mild, but with a hint of helpless indulgence, "Sure."
So, even now, he wouldn't admit to liking me, unaffected by my flirtation.
"Max, do you really not like me?"
I didn't know why I was so persistent in wanting to know.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.
Maybe if I knew, I'd find it hard to hurt him.
But if he didn't answer... then... I'd stop at nothing.