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Chapter 113: Chapter 113

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WON - INTERACTIONS

===============

Jasmine: Interest: 27 / 40★

Kayla: Interest: 5 / 20

Tessa: Interest: 20 / 40

Kim: Interest: 6 / 20

Delilah: Interest: 18 / 20

Cora: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

===============

Progress:

★☆☆☆☆ - 20 Interest: Milestone reward

★★☆☆☆ - 40 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★☆☆ - 60 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★☆ - 80 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★★ -100 Interest: Milestone reward

===============

Select a woman to track progress.

╰───────────╯

The rest of the night flew by, the pizza nearly gone—mostly thanks to , Delilah only managing two slices. Ivy texted, saying she was staying with friends, not coming ho.

I rinsed my plate, setting it on the counter, the kitchen cozy with lingering herb scents. Delilah crouched by the oven, wiping it down, her crimson dress riding up slightly, her bare legs and barely contained tits making my head spin. Fuck, I wanted to pin her down, slide that dress up, and fuck her right there.

No, no, no. Fuck, Ivy had to be here. Her presence alone would’ve kept those thoughts in check. A boner now would be a fucking disaster.

"Hope everything was okay," Delilah said, still wiping the oven, her voice light. "Sorry for making you clean the dishes."

"It’s fine," I said, forcing a grin. "Forgot what a plate looks like, Ms. Komb. Been living on instant ran."

"Those little boxes?" she said, glancing up, her tits shifting as she smiled.

"They taste good, though."

"Bad for health," she added, standing, brushing her hands on the towel. "Ivy used to eat those too."

"Bad for health, good for my wallet," I said, chuckling.

"Your roommate doesn’t cook?" she asked, leaning against the counter, her dress hugging her hips.

"She’s not—well, she’s not really my roommate," I said. "She is a distant cousin, visiting. Said ’roommate’ to not weird you out, I guess."

"She seed... odd," Delilah said, brow furrowing. "Took forever to open the door when I stopped by. Said she was bathing, but her hair was dry, and she was out of breath."

What the fuck was Cora doing in my house while I was at the beach? The thought made my skin crawl, my house feeling violated again. Fucking weirdo—and I was the bigger idiot for sleeping with her after catching her. Goddamn it.

Delilah leaned back, her eyes eting mine. I gave a small smile, setting the last plate on the rack, wiping my hands. "Got a smoke?" she asked.

I pulled a cigarette from my pack, handing her one. "Sure."

"Thanks," she said, leaning in as I lit it, her face close, her perfu stronger. She took a drag, exhaling smoke. "Oh, how I missed smoking."

"You’re sneaking smokes, scared Ivy’ll catch you," I said, lighting my own, grinning. "Like a teenager."

"I wish I was a teenager again," she chuckled, coughing slightly. "Good old days, Evan. Good old days."

"You talk like you’re ninety," I said, blowing out smoke. "Chill, Ms. Komb. You’re still young."

"I’m thirty-seven," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"And?" I shot back. "Perfect age for a woman."

"Of course you’d say that," she laughed, shaking her head.

"Hm?"

"Nevermind," she said, taking another drag, her eyes glinting with sothing unspoken.

╭───────────╮

EVENT

===============

Delilah’s Interest

2

╰───────────╯

I flicked ash into the tray, my mind buzzing with the

2 interest points and the milestone reward I’d just hit with her—20/20, a star earned. But I pushed the system aside, focusing on Delilah and her BrightWave problem. Sarah and Mike were my targets, and I needed a plan to crush their bullshit.

╭───────────╮

WON - INTERACTIONS

===============

Jasmine: Interest: 27 / 40★

Kayla: Interest: 5 / 20

Tessa: Interest: 20 / 40★

Kim: Interest: 6 / 20

Delilah: Interest: 20 / 20★

Cora: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

===============

Progress:

★☆☆☆☆ - 20 Interest: Milestone reward

★★☆☆☆ - 40 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★☆☆ - 60 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★☆ - 80 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★★ -100 Interest: Milestone reward

===============

Select a woman to track progress.

╰───────────╯

"You..." I started, glancing at her, the cigarette warm between my fingers. "Look... good, Ms. Komb."

"Wow," she chuckled, taking a drag, her lips curling around the cigarette. "I waited to hear that when I opened the door, Evan. Not after we ate dinner and cleaned the plates."

"Yeah... sorry," I said, grinning sheepishly. "I was... well, you know, didn’t want to weird you out or anything, Ms. Komb."

"You’d never weird

out, Evan," she said, her voice warm, exhaling smoke. "Don’t worry."

Damn. Never weird her out? Except for that ti in uni when she caught

staring at her panties, my face burning like a dumbass kid. Lusting after my friend’s mom back then was bad enough, and now, sitting here, her dress barely containing her, I was still fighting the sa urge. Different now, though—yeah, definitely.

"Shall we move to the living room?" she asked, standing, cigarette in hand. "Or if you want to stay here, I’ve got more dishes needing a scrub."

I threw my hands up in mock surrender, laughing. "Nope. Living room sounds good."

We moved to the couch, Delilah grabbing an ashtray from a shelf—probably hidden from Ivy—and setting it between us. We sat side by side, the coffee table cluttered with the empty pizza board and our soup bowls, the room cozy, the faint hum of the city outside barely audible.

"What’s... David saying about all this?" I blurted, flicking ash, testing the waters.

"To what...?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"You getting mobbed," I said.

"He doesn’t like it," she said, her voice flat. "But since he doesn’t work at BrightWave, and we barely talk anymore, I think he just doesn’t care."

"Doesn’t like it or doesn’t care?" I pressed, taking a drag.

"Both?" She shook her head, her cigarette glowing. "Just drop it, please. I don’t want to talk about him."

"Sure," I nodded. "Of course."

"How about you?" she asked, turning the tables, her eyes glinting. "You keep asking about my life. My turn."

"Okay?" I said, leaning back, the couch creaking.

"Karim," she said, pointing her cigarette at . "What happened with him?"

"Karim," I repeated, exhaling smoke, the mory sour. "Bastard was trying to hurt my next-door neighbor. I stepped in, but got my ass handed to ."

"Oh?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I was sick. Fever from hell," I said. "You know how I get when I’m sick."

"A drama queen," she teased, smirking.

"I swear, if I hear that one more ti..." I mumbled, smiling despite myself. "Anyway, he beat . That’s it."

"Who’s your neighbor?" she asked. "You friends with him?"

"Yeah," I said, dodging the truth—Jasmine wasn’t a ’him,’ but better she thought that. "That’s why I stepped in."

It was getting late, and I needed to head ho, clean up for Kim moving in tomorrow. Didn’t want her thinking I was a total slob... even if I kinda was.

"I gotta go," I said, standing, crushing my cigarette in the ashtray. "Gotta clean my place for tomorrow."

"Really?" Delilah asked, tilting her head. "Stay a little longer."

"Nah, I really need to," I said, shaking my head. "Everything was perfect, Ms. Komb. Thank you."

"Aw, it’s nothing. Co on, co here."

She stood, opening her arms for a hug. I swallowed hard, stepping forward, wrapping my arms around her. Fuck, her tits pressed against my chest, her scent, floral, intoxicating, sending sparks through my brain. My hands slid lower, brushing the small of her back, dangerously close to her ass. My cock twitched, and I prayed she didn’t feel it.

"Thank you for everything," she said, pulling back, her eyes warm.

"N-no problem," I said, coughing to cover my nerves. "So... I’ll... uh, go now. Yeah."

I reached for the door, and pulled it open, the faint creak breaking the quiet of Delilah’s cozy living room. The warm glow of the lamp spilled out behind , her crimson dress still a vivid image in my mind, her floral perfu lingering in the air.

I turned, giving her a nod. "Goodnight, Ms. Komb."

"Be careful out there, Evan," she said, leaning against the doorfra, her arms crossed, the dress hugging her curves. "It’s late. I can drop you off if you want."

"Nah, I’m cool," I said, flashing a grin, adjusting my jacket. "I can walk."

"You sure?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly, her voice soft with concern.

"Yep," I said, nodding firmly. "I’m good."

"Alright then," she said, her lips curving into a small smile. "Bye, Evan."

"Bye, Ms. Komb," I said, stepping out.

I started descending the stairs. My mind was buzzing—Delilah’s work drama, Sarah and Mike’s bullshit, that damn hug that almost got

hard. What a night.

I pushed through the apartnt building’s front door and stepped into the hot evening air, the humidity hitting

like a wall. The street was quiet, streetlights casting pools of yellow light on the pavent, the distant hum of traffic barely audible.

I looked up, the sky clear, stars faint against the city glow. "I swear, my ears are used to that raining sound," I muttered, shaking my head. "Feels weird to be outside like this."

I began walking.

"Alright," I said under my breath, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Focus, Evan. First, Kim. Get the place ready for her moving in. Then Delilah’s work problem."

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