Chapter 5 Just For One Night?

Bobby scratched the back of his head. "No way, Summer’s still mad? It’s been, what, almost three days now? That’s gotta be a Guinness World Record! She’s never stayed angry for more than a day before! But listen, Trevor—women are like that. Don’t let her walk all over you. She just wants you to give in first. You know what they say—give in once, and you’ll be doing it a hundred more times. Don’t fall for it. No matter how mad she gets, she always comes running back, begging you not to leave her. And besides, with her position in the Stewart family, if she dares leave you, they’ll probably disown her." Hearing this, Trevor’s tense expression relaxed slightly. He picked up the glass on the table, taking a sip of the strong liquor. Maybe it was just because Summer had gone too far this time, even faking a kidnapping, that he felt vaguely uneasy. Caleb Clark, who had been quietly drinking on the side, finally spoke up. He couldn’t stand listening to this any longer. Anyone with a heart could see how deeply Summer loved Trevor. When Trevor had migraines, she went all the way to Northpoint, pleading with a legendary doctor for a full day and night—just to find a cure for his pain. When Trevor was picky about food, she studied the world’s finest cuisines, determined to cook the dishes he loved. When Trevor’s mother despised her and insulted her time and time again, she endured it all, never once talking back. It wasn’t until Peyton kept inserting herself between them that Summer finally snapped. But every time, she still backed down for love. "Trevor, don’t listen to Bobby. You went too far this time. Sure, the wedding was fake, but the whole city is mocking Summer now. And seriously, doesn’t it seem like Peyton’s been getting sick a little too often? Your anniversary, your birthday, her birthday, even major holidays—every single time, she just happens to have a relapse. And you’re always there with her at the hospital. No woman could tolerate that. Even if Summer loves you, people’s hearts grow cold. Don’t wait until she’s really gone to regret it." Trevor curled his lips into a cold smirk. "I won’t regret anything because of a woman." Summer leaving him? That would never happen—not in a million years. After all these years of love and devotion, he had grown used to it. Still, Caleb had a point. Women were always jealous creatures. Even though this wedding was just to fulfill Peyton’s last wish, it had embarrassed Summer in front of everyone. Trevor stood, picking up his coat. "Leaving already? You just got here! The night’s barely started!" Bobby called after him. Stepping out of the bar, Trevor slid into his Maybach and called his assistant, Andrew. "In the next couple of days, get Linden, Belvare’s wedding designer, to come to Havenbrook and custom-make Summer’s dress. Also, buy every piece of jewelry from Belvare’s auction—get it all." Summer, this should be enough of a grand gesture, right? Back at the villa, Trevor tossed his coat aside and stretched his legs out on the couch. His head throbbed slightly. Ever since Summer started massaging him regularly, his migraines had almost disappeared. Tonight, though, he had probably been too irritated. He shut his eyes, his tousled hair falling across his face, his breathing heavy. Leona walked out of the kitchen, setting a bowl of broth on the table. Trevor cracked one eye open. "What’s this?" "It’s for your hangover. Ms. Stewart told me to make it whenever you’ve been drinking." Trevor rubbed his forehead, silent for a moment. "You can go." Sitting up, he picked up the broth and took a sip—then immediately spat it out. It wasn’t the right taste. He had a picky palate, but with Summer around, she always made sure his food was perfect. Even something as simple as broth tasted different when she made it. Forget it. Trevor sighed. Summer, I’ll let you have this one. Since you still care enough to have the servants make me soup, I’ll indulge you just this once. He picked up his phone and dialed her number. For the first time ever, after a fight, he was the one calling first. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable." Her phone was off. Trevor’s grip on the phone tightened, his fingers turning white. A wave of frustration surged in his chest. Summer, good. Real good. You’re actually playing hard to get now? You’ve pushed it too far this time. His jaw clenched. He called Andrew again, his voice sharp. "Put the wedding dress plans on hold." Andrew was speechless. … The next morning, waves crashed against the shore outside the villa. The sheer white curtains billowed gently in the ocean breeze. Fraser stepped out of the bathroom, his upper body bare, a towel draped around his neck. Droplets of water slid down his short, tousled hair. When Summer woke up, this was the first thing she saw. She froze, her eyes lingering on the sight for a few seconds before she realized—she was blatantly staring. His chest was tanned, firm, every muscle perfectly defined. His tall frame stood by the window, radiating both restraint and raw sensuality. In this moment, he didn’t look like the ruthless, domineering businessman she had seen in the media. He looked more like a top-tier male model from the entertainment industry. Summer’s face burned. Her heart skipped for reasons she refused to acknowledge. Flustered, she turned her head away and stammered, "W-why are you showering in the morning?" Fraser casually wiped his hair, his deep eyes glancing at her, amusement flickering at the corners of his lips. "Who said I couldn’t?" "N-no, I just meant… put some clothes on!" His voice held a lazy chuckle. "Ms. Stewart, that’s quite distant of you. You were all over me last night." Summer was speechless. How could he be this shameless? What did he mean she was all over him? Wasn’t he also biting her all over last night? Her body was still covered in the evidence! Just thinking about it made her muscles ache all over again. She clenched her fingers, forcing herself to stay calm. She and Fraser may have been physically intimate, but in reality, they were still strangers. This was just a one-night stand. Passionate at night, strangers by morning. That was how it worked, right? Fraser studied her lowered lashes, the way her dark eyes were hidden beneath them. Her brows furrowed slightly, as if lost in thought. He raised a brow. "What’s wrong? You sleep with me once and now you’re acting like we’re strangers?" With that, he tossed his towel into the laundry basket and casually pulled on a plain white T-shirt. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Fraser opened it. A servant stood outside, holding a neatly folded dress. "Mr. Graham, Ms. Stewart’s clothes have arrived." Fraser took them and shut the door. Turning back to the bed, he placed the clothes beside Summer with an easy, natural familiarity. "Your dress was ruined yesterday. I had this prepared for you." As he leaned in, the fresh scent of his shower filled the air. Summer caught a glimpse of the dress—along with a matching set of black lingerie on top. Her face instantly flushed. She curled her toes, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to disappear into the floor. This man’s presence was way too overpowering. Was this what it felt like to sleep with someone and wake up the next morning? Even when she had been with Trevor, her heart had never raced like this. Summer swallowed, her throat dry. She forced herself to focus. "W-we’re even now." Fraser leaned down, tilting her chin up with two fingers, his gaze locking onto hers. "Are we?"