PopularNovelChapter 262
She glanced at Jackson. "Jackson, can | swap it for drinks instead?"
Jackson's face darkened for a second, but he quickly found something amusing, a playful glint in his eyes.
"What's the matter? Are you really that against kissing Dylan? | get it. Dylan's Simon's guy, and that connection
alone makes it awkward for you. Plus, Dylan's not exactly into women. If you did kiss him, who knows? You might
just vanish by tomorrow morning. Alright, if you can down ten bottles of vodka, I'll let it slide."
Clara had agreed to the bet, and backing out now wasn't going to be easy with Jackson. But ten bottles of vodka?
That's a straight ticket to the ER for anyone.
Clara pressed her lips together, not even sparing Dylan a glance. She didn't need to see him to know he
probably regretted ever stepping into this lounge.
She took a deep breath, resigned to the idea of a hospital visit if it cto that. At least she'd complete the
challenge.
She made her way over to the side table, which was piled high with bottles of expensive booze.
The room was spacious, about a hundred square meters, and the table was nearly waist-high, covered in pricey
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtspirits.
Grabbing a bottle of high-proof vodka, she was about to take a swig when she caught sight of Dylan, sitting in his
wheelchair, head down, lost in thought.
After finishing one bottle, her stomach felt like it was on fire, and her cheeks were flushed. The taste of alcohol
lingered in her nose.
Just as she was about to crack open another bottle, she noticed Dylan making his way to the door.
Her fingers hesitated for a moment before she opened the second bottle.
Jackson, not wanting to see her drink herself silly, could tell Clara was struggling. He quickly waved it off.
"Alright, alright, just wait by my car. I'll cby later to pick up spapers." Clara set the bottle down and
replied swiftly, "Thanks, Jackson."
Jackson hurried to catch up with Dylan, worried that he might be upset since he wasn't a fan of jokes about men
and women.
With the two of them gone, the other rich kids in the room finally found their voices, whispering among
themselves.
"Why does Dylan have such a strong presence? The second he walked in, | felt this invisible force making me
hide my phone."
"Yeah,too."
"My folks said not to mess with him."
Clara listened to the murmurs, grabbed her bag, and flashed a smile at everyone.
"Sorry to trouble you all. Catch you next time."
They had been hoping for a spectacle, but her poise left them feeling awkward.
As the saying goes, you can't hit a smiling face.
Clara made her way to Jackson's car, her head spinning.
Meanwhile, Jackson had caught up to Dylan, apologizing quickly.
"Dylan, | was just messing around after a few drinks. | know you're not into
women; | won't do it again. Please don't be upset."
Dylan paused, his tone cool. "I'm not mad at you."
Jackson, pushing Dylan's wheelchair, was confused.
"Then who's got you riled up? You can't be mad Clara didn't kiss you, right? If she had, would she even see
tomorrow? Remember that bold model who tried to kiss you? She was shipped off overseas the next day, and
she hasn't been back since. Everyone knows you're not into those kinds of relationships. Clara was smart to
dodge it."
She'd rather face ten bottles of vodka than kiss Dylan, showing just how much she wanted to avoid him.
As they reached their usual hangout spot, Jackson heard him ask a question.
"Do you think I'm good-looking?"
If he hadn't heard it himself, he'd think he was hearing things.
Dylan asking what?
Good-looking? Why would a guy care about that?
Wait a second!
Why would Dylan care about that?
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