Chapter 220: Chapter 230: Believe It or Not, I’ll "Dostically Abuse" You Right Here
Holly Winslow: "..."
She refused to believe she couldn’t one-up Quincy the Rogue. Beckoning him over with a finger, she waited for him to lean down. Then, with wide eyes, she said through gritted teeth, "You’re asking to get laid." With that, she jutted out her chin.
She looked as smug as a fierce little bunny.
This was the second ti he’d heard his wife say sothing like this. Mortir Quincy was montarily KO’d. "..."
’Not bad.’
’My wife is getting pretty good at this.’
’She can even say such "seductive" things right to my face.’
He gave a barely perceptible raise of his eyebrow. The next second, his hand went to the zipper on his collar. Then, right before her eyes, he slowly pulled the zipper down. "Bring it on."
Holly Winslow was utterly defeated. "..."
She fled in disarray.
Behind her, Mortir Quincy looked "disappointed" as he zipped his jacket back up.
’And here I thought my wife actually had the guts for it.’
...
After the presentation, Holly Winslow and Mortir Quincy went to Gabe Chaucer’s office.
It was a fulfillnt of the visit they had talked about back in high school.
Julian Carlton had already co to terms with the fact that the cousins were a couple. Ahem. He often used them as an example when lecturing his students.
"I had a student in my last graduating class—your senior—who could only score in the three hundreds as a freshman. But on her college entrance exam, she scored over seven hundred. And her cousin got a perfect score."
"And then there’s you lot. You score in the three hundreds and your scores are still dropping. What are you trying to do, lower your blood pressure?"
The students would occasionally reply, "Mr. Carlton, he’s her boyfriend."
And he wouldn’t try to hide it: "If you all found soone like that to date, I’d get the dean of students to pull so strings for you."
"If you can’t, then just give up and hit the books."
"You have to get good grades and go to a good university to et other top students. At a school like your senior’s, you’ll find handso and beautiful brainiacs everywhere."
He understood that students only cared about looks. If the face was right, the feelings would follow.
They chatted for a while longer until the bell for second period rang. Suddenly, the dean of students’ voice bood out, "Class has started! Why are you still dawdling? You’ll dawdle your way right out of Branton and Q University!"
"Now run!"
Holly Winslow: "..."
She stifled a laugh.
Julian Carlton picked up his physics textbook and asked if they would be willing to sit in on one of his classes.
Holly Winslow knew what he was getting at and readily agreed. The two of them followed Julian Carlton into the classroom, imdiately drawing the attention of the students in his class.
After Julian Carlton found them a couple of seats, he stood at the lectern and chuckled. "Your seniors are here to let so of their good luck rub off on you all. Let’s hope our class can produce a Branton University student."
The whole class erupted in boisterous laughter, frequently glancing over at Holly and Mortir.
Hearing this, Holly Winslow turned to the properly seated Mortir Quincy and whispered half-jokingly, "Looks like your good luck rubbed off on ."
Mortir Quincy chuckled and scanned her up and down. "In that case, my wife must be overflowing with good fortune right now."
Holly: ...
’That damn Mortir Quincy!’ she thought. ’He’s been reading too many of my novels! So when he said he was going to the study to "handle cases," he was really "handling" my books!’
Halfway through his lecture, Julian Carlton decided to call on soone. Knowing the students were curious about the "power couple" in the back, he said, "I’ll call on your senior to answer this. Let’s see if she’s forgotten her high school curriculum, shall we?"
"Holly Winslow, stand up and tell us, what are the principles of projectile motion?"
Holly Winslow, who had been suddenly called on, was speechless. "..."
’What are the principles of projectile motion?’
’I can solve the physics problems, but I honestly don’t know the textbook definition that you just glance at and ignore.’
Mortir Quincy’s lips curled into a smirk. He raised his hand. "Mr. Carlton, is a family mber allowed to answer on her behalf?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
The entire class instantly erupted into another uproar, all turning to look their way.
Mr. Carlton laughed too. In a very easygoing tone, he said, "Alright, the family mber may proceed."
Mortir Quincy stood up and recited the textbook-perfect answer, "Projectile motion can be resolved into two components: uniform linear motion in the horizontal direction and free-fall motion in the vertical direction."
"WOAH!!" The whole class looked at him with worshipful gazes.
When Mortir Quincy sat down, he felt a light kick to his shin under the desk. He looked up to see his wife blushing from his "family mber" comnt and simply gave an innocent shrug.
’But we are family,’ he thought.
For the rest of the period, Holly Winslow ignored that rascal Mortir Quincy. Since Mr. Carlton had another class next, the two of them said their goodbyes.
Once they were out of the school gates, Holly Winslow dropped her exemplary senior persona and lightly hamred Mortir Quincy’s chest a few tis with her fists.
Mortir Quincy knew his wife’s feathers were ruffled and that she needed to be pacified, so he half-squatted to let her hit him.
Holly Winslow glared at him irritably. "You think you’re so tall? You even have to squat down!"
She paused for a mont, then, in the next second, she used a rustic expression: "About three cowpats high."
The three-cowpats-high Mortir Quincy: "..."
Damn it. He couldn’t help but burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking.
His laughter only made Holly Winslow’s feathers even more ruffled. She held up two fingers and said fiercely, "If it’s any less than this, we’re separating."
’From breaking up, to divorce, to now separation,’ Mortir Quincy thought. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her darkly as he said, word by word, "Believe it or not, I’m about to commit so ’dostic violence’ right here on the spot."
Holly Winslow, who had been so full of heroic spirit just a mont ago, imdiately wilted. "..."
But a mont later, she hamred his chest a few more tis and said fiercely, "Bring it on!" Then she imdiately took off running, her half-up ponytail bouncing behind her.
’Only a fool wouldn’t run,’ she thought.
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow, then walked into their favorite bubble tea shop. A mont later, Holly Winslow followed him in. "Extra pearls, please," she said. "He’s paying."
The shop owner glanced at them, thinking they looked a bit familiar. She looked at them again, then at a newspaper clipping on the wall—it was the very sa article that had been written about Mortir Quincy and Holly Winslow.
When Holly Winslow saw it: "..."
Just then, the owner said with a broad smile, "No charge. It’s on the house."
"You used to co here all the ti, but I never recognized you. I can’t believe you’re the college students from our own county."
Her tone suddenly shifted as she asked nosily, "So you two were already together back then?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
That shaless rascal Mortir Quincy actually had the audacity to hum in agreent. Then, he pulled out so money and handed it to the owner, saying with a low chuckle, "Ma’am, she’s angry with . I need to buy her so tea to cheer her up."
"We’ll take you up on the free drinks next ti."
eting the owner’s knowing gaze, Holly Winslow was speechless again. "..."
’Damn you, Mortir Quincy.’
The bubble tea lady accepted the money with a beaming smile. "Alright then, I’ll add extra pearls for you."
The two left the shop. Mortir Quincy saw his wife tilting her chin up repeatedly, trying to pull her scarf down a bit so it wouldn’t get stained by the bubble tea.
With a look of fond exasperation, he reached out to help her and uttered a single word, "Lazy."
Holly Winslow shot him a sideways glance and said smugly, "Then divorce , if you have the guts."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
He let out another laugh and couldn’t resist flicking her forehead. Then he said ominously, "Divorce you? It’s not easy to find a wife these days. I guess I’ll just have to make do."
"After all, I’m quite satisfied with my wife’s performance in bed. Five-star review."
This ti, Holly couldn’t hold back at his flirtatious remark and spat out a mouthful of bubble tea right onto his jacket.
Realizing what she’d done, she quickly turned her head and spat the rest of the tea onto the ground. "COUGH, COUGH, COUGH..."
She’d choked so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.
’Damn you, Mortir Quincy.’
’Damn you, Mortir Quincy.’
’Damn you, Mortir Quincy.’
Repeating it three tis in her head made her feel much better.
Mortir Quincy patted her on the back. After making sure she was okay, he glanced down at the bubble tea on his jacket. If anyone else had spit on him, he would have thrown the jacket away.
But since it was Holly, he didn’t even frown. Instead, he let out a low chuckle and resud his shaless flirting. "Darling, don’t be in such a hurry to feed . You should at least wait until our lips are touching."
Holly Winslow: "..."
She couldn’t take it anymore.
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