Xyla Quest looked in the mirror and rolled her eyes at him once more. “Well, what do you think?”

“What?” Stanley Batton’s eyes widened, attentive, and brimming with curiosity.

“Thanks to somebody, I’m in a hurry now, so I don’t have time to dry my hair,” blurted Xyla grumpily.

“Oh.”

“Oh? What do you mean by ‘oh’? Isn’t this your fault?” The more Xyla thought about it, the angrier she got. She could not stop mumbling, “It’s all because of you, bastard.”

He had wasted that one hour.

If she had got out of bed one hour earlier, she would have done putting on her makeup, dressing up, and even finishing her lunch right now.

In the mirror, the man’s soft lips stretched into a doting smile as he gazed at her.

When Xyla lifted her head, she met his smiling eyes.

A strange tingling sensation ran down her spine instantaneously.

There was only a white towel wrapped around his waist. Water beads were sliding down his chest, over the scratches she left behind, adding a tinge of se