Chapter 580 Where Did We Kiss Again?
Only then did Natalie realize, not only was Oliver naked, she was too!
A flush of embarrassment rushed over her.
"Oliver!"
Her sharp rebuke was right next to his ear, causing him a momentary wince and alerting him to her mindset.
"It wasn't me," Oliver calmly released her.
She immediately grabbed the blanket and scurried to the other side of the bed, distancing herself. Catching sight of his exposed body made her eyelids twitch:
"Why aren't you wearing any pants?!"
"Doesn't Miss Watson know her husband prefers to sleep in the buff?" Oliver raised an eyebrow provocatively.
Of course, Natalie knew of his habit. He disliked being confined by anything, even his bathrobe loosely tied after a shower.
But was the situation the same now? We were divorced!
"Just be quiet and get dressed right now!" Natalie ruffled her hair, muttering to herself, "I knew we couldn't share a bed, it's my fault, all my fault..."
"Yeah, it definitely is your fault," Oliver agreed, leaning against the headboard, nodding seriously.
"Talk about taking a mile when given an inch!" Natalie glared at him, turning away and yanking the clothes Oliver had left on the bedpost, tossing them over him. She was ready to settle accounts. "And why exactly were you holding me?"
Natalie felt awkward, wondering if this was the time to confront Oliver about their tangled relationship.
Did his actions imply he still had feelings for her?
But Natalie was at a loss for words.
After all, she was the one who had left Oliver, who had filed for divorce. Knowing how proud Oliver was, how could she possibly ask, "Do you still like me?" It sounded so conceited on her part, so demeaning to his ego.
She remembered how he had pleaded with her to stay.
Meanwhile, Oliver's thoughts were nowhere near Natalie's wavelength.
Expecting this, he said, "Listen to this."
"What?" Natalie asked, suspicious.
Oliver fished out his phone, opened the voice recording app, and a familiar voice emerged—
"How am I?"
"You're the prettiest."
"Who's the prettiest?"
"You."
After a pause—
"Wash your hair."
"Can I wash it tomorrow?"
"No! Wash your hair!"
"Washing it today will make you sick."
"I won't get sick."
"Natalie, you're not in a state to wash your hair right now."
"You wash it."
...
Natalie was nearly petrified.
Was that her voice in the recording?
Was it really her?
"The last two words you wash meant that you wanted me to wash it for you," Oliver said with a satisfied look, delivering the coup de grâce at a leisurely pace.
"Before that, you asked me to help you bathe."
Natalie swallowed hard, shaking her head in denial vigorously, "I don't believe it."
Oliver had recorded that part too, but it was too intimate to play for her, so he had cut it off early.
"I didn't want to wash you at first, to avoid any accusations of impropriety once you sobered up, but you refused to sleep without a bath, and wouldn't let me sleep either."
Oliver observed Natalie and said, “I knew it, it confirmed my prediction that you'd deny everything once awake.
Natalie clutched the blanket tighter, looking at Oliver warily, "I—I would never do such a thing."
"Did I do that?" Oliver chuckled wryly.
Natalie was speechless.
She racked her brain to recall the events of last night, but her memory came to a screeching halt at the last drink. What happened next was a complete blur.
A fragment of memory unexpectedly surfaced, showing her sitting pleasantly in the bathroom, seemingly content.
"Argh!" Natalie yanked at her hair, clinging to a sliver of hope: "I refuse to believe it. Just because I can't remember what I said or did while drunk, you think you can say anything?"
Oliver casually got up to dress. "I've seen people deny things before, but never someone who denies it with the evidence right in front of them."
The proof was the recording.
Natalie pressed her hand to her forehead, shut her eyes tight.
"Oh, for another chance!" she mentally bargained. She would never drink recklessly again if only she could redo it.
Just minutes before, she had been furious with Oliver, but now all she wanted was to burrow underground in shame.
She'd wanted to clear things up with him, but now, it seemed even more impossible.
Oliver headed into the bathroom to freshen up.
Natalie scrambled to get dressed, fetching her clothes from the suitcase that lay beside the bed.
"Oh, and..." Oliver began as he opened the bathroom door, catching Natalie tip-toeing out of bed in her birthday suit, shining pale in the morning light.
The man froze for a few seconds, his gaze intensifying.
"Hey!"
Turning instantly, Natalie hid behind the dressing screen, the morning's events leaving her temper deflated.
From behind the screen, she missed the sly smile that crept onto Oliver's lips.
"...What were you going to say?"
"I was going to say, you kissed me last night."
The words hit Natalie like a bolt from the blue—a bath and a shampoo were the least of her problems when a bombshell was waiting to explode?
Natalie's mind went blank, instead of "Is Oliver lying to me?" her thought now was "Why the hell did I drink?"
"If you don't believe me, you can ask someone else," Oliver said.
"Ask... ask someone else?" Natalie was awkward. "Who might that be?"
She prayed she wouldn't hear anything too distressing.
"Ah," Oliver appeared to ponder. "There should be quite a few who know. Just pull anyone from outside."
Turns out, it wasn't just someone—it was a whole crowd of someones.
Natalie couldn't believe it, "You... me... who... no, where are we... where did it happen?"
Oliver's smile widened, but he kept his voice serious and innocent, "At the drinks."
"Ah—"
Unconsciously, Oliver strolled over and got a glimpse of a dejected Natalie behind the screen, which startled a scream out of her.
Seeing her still undressed, Oliver frowned and warned, "Get dressed. I don't want to be blamed for you catching a cold."
"..." Please, just shut up!
"What are you wearing today? Let me help you with it." Oliver moved towards the suitcase.
"I'll get it myself!" Natalie said, curling up defensively, "You go freshen up."
We need to get out of each other's sight, right now, immediately!
Oliver, content with her embarrassed and indignant state, headed off to groom himself.
Even though he was the one who had kissed Natalie, he knew she wouldn't ask who had initiated it, it just wasn't in her nature.
Even if she did ask, no one else could confirm whether he was the first to kiss.
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