Chapter 81: Chapter 81: I Know Mortir Quincy Likes Holly Winslow
Pantheon, who’d just suffered a critical hit, was speechless. "..."
’Why did I have to open my big mouth?’
Chase Hawkins laughed heartily. "HAHAHA," he said, twisting the knife. "Forrest, just accept your fate. You can’t outscore Mortir Quincy, and you can’t out-argue him either."
Mortir Quincy was a man of few words, but every word he spoke cut straight to the heart.
Zeke Zane dealt the finishing blow. "And you can’t outscore , either."
Pantheon: "..."
’I’m done with life.’
Holly Winslow found their dynamic amusing and chuckled softly, "Hehe."
Mortir Quincy handed the tickets to Zeke Zane. "I only bought them for the guys."
Zeke Zane and the other guys were well aware of his personality—he absolutely refused to get involved with any female classmates. They all just smiled and thanked him.
As for the girls’ tickets, Paul Powell had paid for them.
Holly Winslow saw Valerie Walsh and her friends glance over at Mortir Quincy again and again, followed by a few whispered words. Holly touched the tip of her nose, hiding her own awkwardness.
Mortir Quincy, on the other hand, remained perfectly calm, radiating a strong "none of my damn business" vibe.
’So badass.’
A mont later, Zeke Zane returned with two Cokes for them.
Holly Winslow noticed that whenever Mortir Quincy treated them to gas or a al, the other guys always found a way to treat him back.
After Mortir Quincy had led her around the rink four or five tis, Holly Winslow noticed Paul Powell skating with Luna Lynch. Paul wasn’t his usual carefree self; he seed a little shy and awkward.
’That kind of behavior only ever shows up when you’re in front of soone you like.’
Holly Winslow tugged on Mortir Quincy’s hand and whispered gossipily, "Hubby, do you think Paul Powell likes Luna Lynch?"
Mortir Quincy glanced over, then quickly retracted his gaze. "I don’t know. I only know..."
Seeing him trail off, Holly Winslow’s interest was piqued. She pressed him anxiously, "You only know what?"
"You want to know? Call
’hubby’ three tis, let’s hear it." Mortir Quincy looked down at his wife’s blushing face, a hint of a smile flashing in his eyes.
Holly Winslow: "..."
It’s in a woman’s nature to be a little gossipy. She "compromised" and called out softly three tis, "Hubby."
"Hubby."
"Hubby."
Mortir Quincy could barely contain his smile. His wife always fell for his tricks so willingly. He beckoned with a finger. "Wifey, co closer."
Holly Winslow leaned in. Mortir Quincy bent down and said unhurriedly, "I only know that Mortir Quincy likes Holly Winslow."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Such a smooth-talker, that Quincy.’
Then, Mortir Quincy booped the tip of her nose with his finger and added, "Does Holly Winslow like Mortir Quincy?"
"Hm? Mortir Quincy is waiting for an answer."
Holly Winslow couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing how much he wanted to hear it, she deliberately dragged out her words. "Ho...lly... Win...slow... li...kes... Mor...ti...r... Quin...cy."
Before the sound of "Quincy" had even faded, Mortir Quincy leaned in to kiss her, holding his denim jacket up with both hands to completely hide her head from view.
To Holly Winslow, this felt no different from kissing in class. She was nervous to death.
After a dozen or so seconds, he released her. His voice was a little deep, husky, and magnetic as he said unhurriedly, "Wifey, hubby is crazy about you."
’That line was so dominant and so seductive.’
Staring at Mortir Quincy’s handso face, Holly Winslow secretly gulped and said weakly, "Don’t try to seduce . It won’t lead anywhere."
Mortir Quincy’s romantic mood instantly dissipated. At her words, he let out a laugh of pure exasperation. "Damn it, Holly. Go ho and copy the physics formulas five tis."
Holly Winslow: "..."
...
Throughout the skating session, Valerie Walsh tried to talk to Mortir Quincy several tis, but he paid her no mind, even actively avoiding her.
Watching the other girl go down a path she herself had once walked, Holly Winslow felt a slight pang of sympathy.
’However, from her position as Scholar Quincy’s wife, she was quite satisfied with his behavior.’
’When that guy Mortir Quincy dislikes soone, there’s nothing you can do, even if you dug up his family’s ancestral graves.’
It was already four-thirty by the ti they got back to the Delian Community.
Holly Winslow held out her hand to Mortir Quincy for her books. "Hubby, give
my books. I’m going ho."
"Nope."
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Wifey, co ho with
to do howork. Dad isn’t back yet."
The "Dad" he ntioned was, of course, Wyatt Winslow. If he were ho, he would have definitely called Holly Winslow.
As if Holly Winslow would believe his excuse about doing howork. Still, seeing as Mortir Quincy had been on his best behavior today, she grinned, "Hehe. Half an hour."
The main gate to the Quincy family’s ho was open. Two cars were parked in the driveway, where there was usually only one.
’Mortir Quincy’s parents are back.’
"Hubby, I think I should just go ho," Holly Winslow said, stopping in her tracks.
Mortir Quincy grabbed her wrist to stop her from running off. He’d learned his lesson from that ti in the woods.
"What are you afraid of? You used to love coming over, didn’t you? This is a perfect chance to have Mom cook for you."
"How is that the sa? We aren’t married yet. People who don’t know any better might think I’m trying to freeload off your family," Holly Winslow explained earnestly.
"I’d prefer it if you were freeloading. That way, hubby wouldn’t have to keep an eye on you all the ti." Mortir Quincy thought his wife was just so endearing.
Holly Winslow loved hearing that. With a "hehe" grin, she reached out and pinched his cheek. "You’re such a sweet-talker, hubby."
Just then, Brooke Jarvis ca in from outside, carrying groceries. She happened to see Holly Winslow pinching Mortir Quincy’s cheek, while he was bent over letting her do it.
She smiled. "Moira, Holly, why aren’t you coming inside?"
Holly Winslow jumped, snatching her hand back. She spoke properly, "Mom."
Her: "..."
Seeing Brooke Jarvis’s already-accustod expression, Holly wanted to cry but had no tears. ’I really didn’t an to!’
She touched the tip of her nose and changed the subject. "Aunt Quincy, let
help you with the groceries. Oh, you bought clams! That’s my favorite..."
She couldn’t bring herself to say the last word, swallowing it back down.
She had gotten into the habit of telling Brooke Jarvis what she liked to eat. Brooke Jarvis was truly good to her, always buying her favorite foods whenever she ca over.
Mortir Quincy chuckled from the side. "If you like them, we’ll have Mom buy more next ti."
At Holly Winslow’s easy familiarity, Brooke Jarvis gave a genuine smile. "I’ll have your Uncle Quincy go to the market and get a few more pounds in a bit. I didn’t know you were coming, Holly. I should have asked Moira."
"Aunt Quincy, that’s plenty, really! I can’t eat that much." As soon as the words were out, Holly Winslow realized her mistake and quickly waved her hands. "Aunt Quincy, I’m not staying for dinner! I have to go ho later."
She nodded emphatically. "Really."
Mortir Quincy couldn’t help but smile. ’His wife was being adorably silly right now.’
Brooke Jarvis smiled again and said kindly, "Holly, don’t be nervous. Just make yourself at ho. If there’s sothing you like to eat, just tell , and I’ll make it for you."
Mortir Quincy, who loved nothing more than watching the drama unfold, chid in, "Yeah, just make yourself at ho."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Mortir Quincy, just shut up already.’
...
Inside, Andre Quincy was sitting on the sofa watching the financial news. Holly Winslow said obediently, "Uncle Quincy."
Hearing her voice, Andre Quincy looked over and said amiably, "Holly, co have a seat. Moira, there’s fruit in the fridge. Go wash so for Holly."
Mortir Quincy grunted in acknowledgnt, dropped his backpack, and headed to the kitchen.
Brooke Jarvis said, "Andor, go buy a few more pounds of clams and a few pounds of shrimp. Get a fish, too."
"Alright."
Andre Quincy put on his shoes and went out.
After washing the fruit, Mortir Quincy placed it in front of Holly Winslow and said dotingly, "Eat up, Your Highness."
"Mortir Quincy, you better tone it down. If you ruin my image, I’m telling your mom about you playing video gas," Holly Winslow warned in a low voice.
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow, sat down beside her, and said lazily, "I’m already used to you tattling on
to Mom. What’s one more thing?"
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