Mr. Fairchild's Rose: She is Wild and Proud Chapter 182 - 170: Julian Fairchild, Why Didn’t You Come Loo

Julian Fairchild tightened his grip on her wrist uncontrollably, his eyes showing so hurt, "What did you say?"

Maeve Lane pushed him away and walked towards the door, not giving him another glance.

Julian Fairchild felt like his heart was about to be hollowed out, constantly hearing Maeve Lane’s words just now echoing in his ears.

[...dirty]

If Maeve Lane turned around at this mont, she would surely see Julian Fairchild’s eyes looking like an abandoned puppy.

If Julian Fairchild weren’t drunk, he would definitely notice Maeve Lane’s unusual behavior at this mont.

But he was already terribly dizzy, and Maeve Lane’s words felt like a hard blow, leaving him sowhat bewildered.

She actually rejected him like this.

...

Maeve Lane felt her body becoming sowhat cold.

Thankfully, she rembered to take the dicine; after taking it, she went for a bath.

Warm water surrounded her, along with the effect of the dicine, Maeve Lane’s emotions gradually stabilized.

After the bath, she took out a robe and put it on.

She glanced at the ti, 12:20 AM.

Not a hint of sleepiness.

Maeve Lane thought about the wine she had just taken.

The clear wine slid down her throat, and the intense aroma quickly enveloped her entire consciousness.

Yet she seed unaware, finishing one bottle and quickly opening another.

...

Julian Fairchild also took a bath after Maeve Lane left, sobering up quite a bit.

Changing into a robe, he lay on the bed for a while, his mind filled with Maeve Lane’s tears.

After hesitating for a mont, he still got up and went to Maeve Lane’s door.

Julian Fairchild pressed the doorbell.

Soon, there was the sound of stumbling and colliding from inside.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Quickly, the door opened, and Maeve Lane’s body fell into his arms.

Julian Fairchild instinctively hugged her, only to release her the next second as if startled.

Maeve Lane wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

If he lowered his head, he could even see her...

Maeve Lane fell to the ground, looking at him with innocent eyes, as if accusing his actions.

Julian Fairchild’s forehead throbbed, extending a large hand to help her up.

He slled the aroma of wine on her body and frowned, "Did you drink?"

Maeve Lane nodded obediently, actively leaning into his arms, even showing a satisfied expression.

Julian Fairchild was embraced by her around the waist, his heart pounding fiercely.

He tried to control himself, but his voice was still husky, "Let go, you’re drunk."

Maeve Lane didn’t heed his words; instead, she jumped onto him, touching him all over like she was seeking warmth from the low air conditioning.

Julian Fairchild’s face darkened, grabbing her restless hand, "Don’t move, or bear the consequences."

Maeve Lane, having drunk several bottles, had long lost her rational mind; she only felt that she liked the scent on the person in front of her.

"No, I like you..."

His pupils shrank, "What?"

"Like the scent on you, like sumr snow..."

Julian Fairchild felt a bit amused and helpless, carrying her to the bed and placing her down, saying in a low, deep voice, "I like you too."

Maeve Lane smiled, a bright smile he hadn’t seen on her face for a long ti.

"You’re really... heartless."

He also sat down by the bed.

After a long silence, he stared into Maeve Lane’s eyes and asked, "Do you really like Henry Hughes that much?"

Maeve Lane snuggled into his arms, seeming to fit her words of "like" quite well.

Julian Fairchild knew Maeve Lane was drunk now, but he couldn’t help himself.

"It’s been a month..." Julian Fairchild turned the girl in his arms to face him, slowly approaching Maeve Lane’s lips and gently biting them, "Haven’t you had enough fun yet?"

Maeve Lane was stunned, being kissed.

He viciously bit her moist lips, forcing out a few words between his teeth, "Are you treating like a backup?"

He didn’t know what feeling he had when saying those two words.

During this month, he had countless tis pondered his position in Maeve Lane’s heart.

But no matter how many tis he thought about it, he only ca up with those two words.

The hopeless part was that he even felt being her backup... could be acceptable.

Maeve Lane cried out in pain, her face reddened, muttering, "...I’m not."

Julian Fairchild pinched her chin, whispering, "What exactly do you feel about ?"

"Like!" Maeve Lane pressed her lips over, kissing Julian Fairchild’s face.

Julian Fairchild snorted with laughter, "What about Henry Hughes?"

Maeve Lane was montarily confused, seeming to rember the person only after a while.

Her voice was sowhat muffled, yet incredibly clear to Julian Fairchild, "...don’t like."

"Are you serious?"

Maeve Lane closed her eyes, collapsing in his arms, "Mm."

After asking, Julian Fairchild felt a bit amused himself; Maeve Lane was so drunk, how could she know what he was asking?