Love for One Night

Ch3: The Cat and Mouse Game (1)

Having something to look forward to is a good thing—it speeds up your metabolism, gives you rosy cheeks, and makes you glow. You can't sit still or stand still; one moment, you're ecstatic, and the next, you're worried. It's great exercise for both your body and heart.

Right now, Ryo and Arden are each experiencing half of these symptoms. Ryo's restlessness might be expected, but Arden? He couldn't understand why he was so excited.

"Do you think they'll come?" Ryo, rubbing his hands together, was calculating whether his plan this time would finally get his girlfriend in bed. He'd already booked the room.

Arden appeared calm on the surface, smiling silently.

Ryo couldn't stand his composure. "I bet your tigress won't come," he declared.

Finally, Arden turned to look at him. Ryo smugly explained his reasoning: "Just look at the nonsense you said. Ambiguous and unclear. You're not even embarrassed to brag about getting thrown over the shoulder by a woman and then trying to use it as a threat!"

If someone's mind is stuck, not even a diamond drill can help. Arden couldn't help but suspect that his friend had overexerted himself at night, draining his brain power.

"What are we betting?" Arden asked.

Ryo couldn't think of anything immediately.

Arden suggested, "How about betting on having a round with your girlfriend?"

Ryo grinned. "If you lose, you have to get your tigress drunk and send her to my bed."

Arden knew losing wasn't an option. "You'd better pull through tonight—don't end up needing me to help your girlfriend to pop her cherry."

Ryo shot to his feet, ready to start a fight. Arden patted him on the shoulder. "Go drive and pick them up. I'm going out for a stroll."

With that, Arden put on his sunglasses and left.

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The clothes make the person, and when Sandra walked out of her bedroom in that fiery red dress, April was stunned.

The vivid red made Sandra's skin appear extra fair and healthy. The off-shoulder design hid her slightly broad shoulders from years of exercise, while the delicate ruffles framed her collarbone and elongated neck, exuding a hint of sexiness. The flared skirt accentuated her slim waist and long legs, making her look like a Barbie doll—someone you'd just want to pick up and admire.

But the "doll" herself didn't seem to be in character. Her long black hair was casually tied in a ponytail, and her bare face wore an expression like someone owed her a million bucks.

"Wow..." April finally regained her voice, though she could only manage one word. "Wow..."

Sandra shot her a glare and turned back to her room. "I think I'd better not wear this."

"No, no, it's beautiful—super cute and sexy!" April protested.

Sandra ignored her. Before the door even closed, she had already unzipped the dress.

It felt too awkward—wearing something like this was just too uncomfortable. The waist was so fitted that her curves had nowhere to hide. The skirt was so short that any bending over would lead to a wardrobe malfunction. Once in this dress, she didn't even know where to put her hands and feet.

Besides, she'd never worn anything like a princess dress before. Her family was different; no one ever dressed her up to be cute. She grew up wearing her so-called "brother's" hand-me-downs. She just wasn't cut out to be a princess. If it wasn't meant to be, why force it? A princess's aura couldn't be faked, especially not by someone like her—a violent tomboy.

She touched the scattered folds of the skirt on the bed. It was indeed beautiful. But, unfortunately, it wasn't for her. If something wasn't hers, she didn't want it, no matter how beautiful.

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"You're going like this?" April looked at Sandra, who had changed into a hoodie and jeans, her ponytail tied high on her head, giving her a particularly sharp and bold appearance.

"Mm," Sandra replied coldly.

"But..."

"Didn't he say to bring the gift he sent to the meeting? I'll bring it," Sandra said, tossing the dress into a shopping bag from a bedding store.

April wanted to say more but wisely chose silence upon seeing Sandra's murderous expression. After all, meeting two handsome men for some free food and possibly overhearing some juicy gossip wasn't a bad deal for her.

Ryo said he'd pick them up at six. After all, it would be rude to let women take public transport to a dinner with men. But Sandra had no intention of giving them that respect. They left at five.

However, in her stubbornness, Sandra forgot to consider April. The poor girl wobbled on her unfamiliar high heels, wearing a short, breezy skirt with an old, mismatched puffer jacket draped over her shoulders. She clung to the bus handrail, her legs trembling.

Seeing her in such a state, Sandra regretted not taking a cab. Although taxis in this country were outrageously, ridiculously, ridiculously expensive for two broke students like them, it might've been worth it.

Then again, it was April's half-hearted entanglement with Ryo that got her dragged into this mess. If not for her, Sandra wouldn't have to grit her teeth to meet someone she didn't want to see.

So let her suffer a bit—maybe it would teach her a lesson.

Meeting that person was against her will, but Sandra found herself feeling a faint glimmer of anticipation. That tiny sliver, as thin as a strand of hair, unsettled her. She told herself it wasn't because she was looking forward to seeing that man. No, she was just eager to see his reaction when she threw the dress in his face.