NovelAppChapter 235 I threw Grant a curveball.
Curiosity was killing me. Who was the big boss behind the scenes? Deep down, I doubted it was Ernest. The guy was too broke to be in the running, but something kept nagging atthat Grant's mysterious backer could be Ernest.
With an afternoon wide open after a brief meeting, I flicked through my phone and opened WhatsApp.
There was a new message from Allen, just a friendly notification saying we were now contacts. Nothing else. Not a word more.
By now, he must've seen my acceptance notification but chose to ignore it.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtClearly, this was his way of getting back atfor not reciprocating his friend request last night.
This guy was trouble, no doubt about it. It was evident from this petty act that he was the kind to hold a grudge.
No wonder Ernest and Conrad had both warnedto steer clear of him.
But it was too late to act like I didn't know Allen. Even though he was givingthe cold shoulder now, I was sure he had something up his sleeve. For the moment, I decided to play it cool and wait for his next move.
At five, I left work for home.
The neighborhood was lively, with neighbors either taking their kids for a walk or catching up with each other.
"Felicia, you're back!" Olivia, who lived downstairs, greetedwith her usual warmth.
"Yeah, just got back. Haven't you started dinner yet?" I replied, returning the casual greeting.
These small exchanges might not mean much, but they sure did make the neighborhood feel more like a community.
"Oh, I just got back from grocery shopping, too. I'm jealous you have a boyfriend who cooks!" Olivia said, pouting towards my apartment. So, Ernest was already home.
I climbed the stairs and knocked on Ernest's door, greeted by his inviting voice, "It's open." Pushing the door open, I was hit by the delicious aroma of dinner cooking. My stomach, which had barely seen food all day, growled in anticipation.
Ernest was busy in the kitchen, the sound of the extractor fan filling the room. You've got Olivia drooling downstairs with your cooking)"I teased, standing by the doorway.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe glanced back at me, "Go wash up. I've got watermelon juice chilling in the fridge for you." How did he always know exactly what I wanted? Just the thought of watermelon had crossed my mind on my way home, and here he was, a step ahead.
"Are you trying to winover with good looks and even better food?" I joked.
He didn't respond, just focused on his cooking, so I washed up and headed for the fridge. The layout of our old, cramped kitchen meant I had to squeeze past him to reach it.
"Excuse me, just need to grab something," I hinted for him to make room.
He edged closer to the counter, allowingjust enough space to to ΟΙ pass. As I reached into the fridge, his phone started ringing from his pocket. "Can you grab that for me?" he asked, without missing a beat.
I casually reached into his pocket to grab his phone, but as soon as I touched it. Ernest tensed up. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body through his clothes, making my fingers instinctively pull back. That brief touch had somehow made the air in the already warm kitchen feel a few degrees hotter. My back was now slick with a thin layer of sweat.
"Let me," Ernest said, seeingstruggle to fish out his phone.
Just as I finally got a grip on it, he reached over, accidentally encasing my hand with his. The tightspade meant we were almost pressed against each other, and now, with his hand over mine, a wave of heat washed over me. X
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