Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 13

The meal was so bland | could hardly taste a thing.

| was gritting my teeth, hanging out with Hilary for a quick drink.

Hogan didn’t join in; between us, we barely exchanged a few words during the entire dinner. But his phone was buzzing non-stop.

Hogan wasn’t annoyed, though. He patiently replied to each message, a smirk occasionally crossing his lips, barely touched his food, too.

Didn’t need a crystal ball to know who was blowing up his messages.Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

Hilary saw it all the worry in her eyes growing by the minute. Seizing the chance when Hogan stepped out, she vented to me, “Xaviera, what’s gotten into Hogan? He’s acting like he’s possessed or something.”

I got it. After all, the old Hogan wouldn’t dream of spending all his time texting back and forth. Now he had changed.

After the meal, the Zade family’s driver was waiting outside the restaurant. Hilary glanced at Hogan, still buried in his messages, and instructed, “It's late. You take Xaviera home.”

Hogan acted as if he heard nothing..

| found myself an out, “Mrs. Hilary, I’ve called a ride.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Hilary’s eyes, rare for her.

Soon, it was just me and Hogan left in front of the restaurant. | was app when Hogan’s deep voice reached my ears, “Let’s go.” | looked at him, surprised, realizing he meant to drive me home.

“Thanks, Mr. Zade, but I’ve got a ride.”

firing up the rideshare

Hogan stopped in his tracks, he calmly studying my face, then said with a hint of sarcasm, “What, worried your boyfriend will get the wrong idea?”

| dropped the act.

| mean, why waste seven or eight bucks on a ride if | could help it?

I'd got to say, the comfort of a luxury car was hard to beat.

And sure enough, no sooner had | settled into the passenger seat than my eyelids started squabbling with each other.

I'd been running on fumes for two or three days straight, and the alcohol was nudging me

11:38

towards sleep.

Somehow, Hogan picked up on that and said softly. “Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

His voice was unexpectedly kind.

| hesitated for a mere two seconds before sleep snatched away my willpower.

| didn’t know how much time passed, but | vaguely heard the vibration of a phone and cracked

my eyes open.

Through the fuzziness, | saw Hogan up close.

He was staring at me.

But those familiar eyes weren't sharp and cold as before; they were tender as water.

Illusion or reality?

The familiar scent of soap filled my nostrils.

The crisp fragrance was eroding my senses in this confined space.

My gaze drifted down, and | noticed Hogan’s usually neat collar had come undone at some point, revealing a patch of pale skin

and the edge of his straight collarbone.

Just like in countless dreams, he sat there, reserved and alluring.

But if this was a dream, why would those cool eyes suddenly flicker with a vivid spark?

Oddly out of character.

The night was silent, and we just looked at each other quietly.

But a dangerous vibe was growing like mildew after rain, uncontrollably burgeoning deep within 1.me.

My heart fluttered, my breathing grew heavy.

My sanity started to crumble, and next thing | knew, my hand reached out on its own, grabbing Hogan’s tie and pulling him closer.

It was just a dream, right?

My breaths were erratic as | heard myself whisper, “Babe.”

In an instant, the scorching breath brushed my neck, too real to be a dream.

| belatedly tried to pull back, but Hogan’s icy fingers gripped my shoulder blade, imperiously possessive. No, this wasn’t a dream.

My eyes snapped open, and as Hogan leaned in, | turned my face away without a second thought.