The living room fell silent, leaving only Nia Mitchell and Maxwell Peary gazing intently at each other.
"You..." Nia Mitchell shifted her gaze, struggling to process what he had just said.
Seeing her coyness, Maxwell Peary cursed inwardly. Damn Rabina Mitchell, is she playing hard to get? I've already confessed! Even if you don't confess back, you should at least offer a passionate kiss out of excitement, right? But what the hell is this—widening her eyes and then looking away?
"Nia Mitchell!"
The profound silence in the room felt like a sharp needle, pricking even a battle-hardened man like Maxwell Peary, making him exceptionally uncomfortable.
"MHM." Nia Mitchell lifted her head, a smile spreading across her face.
"Let me tell you, just because I said those things, don't think you can..."
