Chapter 424 You Are Much Better Than Jonathan
Jonathan must have just finished his shower. He was wearing a light blue fleece robe, and his hair was still dripping wet.
The moment Chloe saw him, she was even more confused.
Where was she? Why was Jonathan here, too?
Her mind was a blank; she couldn't remember what had happened.
Hadn't she gone out with her male companion last night? What happened after that?
She then noticed she was wearing an oversized shirt that didn't fit her. Was it Jonathan's?
"Jonathan, what are you doing here?" She asked, trying to stay calm. "And where exactly is 'here'?"
"You don't remember anything?" Jonathan frowned. "This is my place."
It was his other apartment in the city center, one he rarely visited.
Seeing how drunk Chloe was last night, he had brought her here directly.
Jonathan had never seen Chloe drunk before. He never would have guessed that someone so usually well-behaved and quiet could act so wild when intoxicated.
She had taken over his couch, sitting cross-legged with a stack of cash in her hand, striking a queenly pose. "Come on, dance for me."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I don't dance."
"Your professionalism is lacking," Chloe complained. "Then do some push-ups. I'll give you a hundred bucks for each one."
Of course, Jonathan wasn't going to do push-ups. If he did, it would be on top of her.
So he went over, picked her up, and took off her jacket.
Chloe could hold her liquor, but she had definitely had too much. She was completely at his mercy, letting Jonathan do as he pleased.
Jonathan finally saw her arm and the conch shell tattoo.
The "King" had turned into a scar, not fully covered, and it was raised to the touch. Surprisingly, the ugly scar and the beautiful, colorful conch shell created a strangely harmonious and seductive look on her smooth arm.
It must have hurt a lot, Jonathan thought, frowning.
"What happened here?"
It was the question he had been wanting to ask for days.
"Isn't it pretty?" Chloe raised her arm to show him. "It's a conch shell. My best friend said the man I loved before was like this shell. He seemed calm, but if you listened closely, you could hear the waves inside..."
She hiccuped. "The sound of the waves."
She had posted this on a short video platform, and it turned out Elsa had really said it.
Talking about her uncle like that, his niece really had a sharp tongue, Jonathan thought with a smile.
"I'm not asking about the tattoo. I'm asking about the scar."
"I... cut it..."
"You did it yourself?"
"I missed him. Whenever I missed him, I cut it." Chloe swayed and threw her arms around his neck. "Forget about that. Just take care of me, and I'll double your fee."
The usually gentle and obedient Chloe could do something like this—cut herself whenever she missed him. Jonathan's heart ached as if she had cut him with a knife.
"If you like him, why not fight for him?"
He pecked her glistening lips and asked in a hoarse voice.
"Love is like a battlefield. You can't always win. At least I woke up in time," Chloe mumbled. "Found my way back."
When Jonathan wanted to ask more, she finally lost her patience. "Are you done talking? Do you always talk this much when you're working? If you can do it, do it. If not, I'll find someone else."
Jonathan couldn't tell if she really didn't recognize him or if she was pretending.
But faced with Chloe's invitation, how could he refuse? Jonathan used all his skills to please her, sending her over the edge again and again.
In the middle of it, Chloe sighed, "Professionals are the best. You're way better than Jonathan."
Jonathan was in the heat of the moment and almost choked on his own blood from anger.
"If I did anything last night, it was because I was drunk. I definitely don't mean to cling to you."
Even though Chloe had been drunk, her body was sore, and she was wearing Jonathan's clothes. Even if she was slow, she knew they had slept together. She quickly got out of bed, walked over to Jonathan, and tried to explain.
Jonathan's apartment had central heating but no floor heating. Seeing Chloe standing barefoot on the marble floor, he frowned.
"The floor is cold," he said.
"What?"
"Don't stand on the floor. It's cold." Jonathan repeated, reaching out to pick her up.
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