Chapter 6 You Look Good in That Dress

Summer clutched the blanket and scooted back. "It’s only fair. I slept with you, you slept with me. So we’re even." Fraser couldn't come after her for this anymore. Fraser withdrew his hand, his fingertips still holding onto the warmth of her skin. With one hand in his pocket, he stood over her, watching her quietly with his dark, unreadable gaze. "Get dressed and come eat breakfast." With that, he turned and walked out. Only after he left did Summer pick up the dress. One look, and her face twitched. It was a deep purple, form-fitting dress, embroidered with sprawling rose patterns. The material was silky, high-end, and obviously expensive. She had never worn something this sultry and bold before. Trevor had always preferred her in simple, pure-looking outfits. But the truth was, she had never liked that style. She hated looking innocent and delicate because it only made it easier for Margaret Stewart to bully her. Still, she had endured it for Trevor. Back then, he was the most important thing in her world. Looking back, she had been a complete fool. Love really was a disease. She shook off her thoughts and tossed aside the blanket, revealing her pale skin—now covered in dark bruises and marks. A clear testament to just how little Fraser had held back last night. One by one, she put her clothes on. Surprisingly, the lingerie fit perfectly. Summer was speechless. How did Fraser get her size right in just one night? She barely even knew his size… only that it was big. Very big. … She shook the heat from her face. It’s normal to think about it. Any woman would still be thinking about a man like that after a night like last night. Completely normal. Brushing off her thoughts, she quickly got dressed, freshened up, and stepped out of the bedroom. The villa had a grand, Z-shaped staircase. Because of the way the dress hugged her curves, Summer walked down a little more carefully than usual. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Fraser looked up from his phone. The second he saw her, a flicker of surprise flashed across his eyes. His taste was excellent. Summer was tall and slender, her long, slightly curled hair framing her delicate features. Her bright, clear eyes were striking, and even without makeup, her complexion was smooth and fair. The dress gave her a regal, elegant air—more confident, more refined than ever before. Leaning back lazily in his chair, Fraser tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, watching her silently as she walked down. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew the exact thought running through his mind right now—how much he wanted to rip that dress off of her. The corner of his lips lifted slightly. Feeling his deep, heated gaze locked onto her, Summer tugged at the hem of her dress. It wasn’t short, but the high slit meant that every step she took revealed a fleeting glimpse of her long, pale legs. She frowned. "Is there something on my face?" A trace of warmth flickered in Fraser’s dark eyes. "You look good in that dress." Summer wasn’t unused to compliments. Men had told her she was beautiful countless times before. But Fraser’s simple "not bad" made her ears turn slightly red. For a moment, the air between them felt thick with something unspoken. … The sun was bright overhead as Fraser’s sleek, black Ferrari sped down the road. The scenery blurred past the windows. Summer had planned to take a cab back, but without her phone or wallet, she had no choice but to hitch a ride with Fraser into Havenbrook. She gave him an address: Brookhaven Estates. A middle-class neighborhood. Not cheap, but not exactly high-end either. For someone with her status as the Stewart family's eldest daughter, it was a bit underwhelming. Fraser glanced at her. "You don’t live at the Stewart residence?" "Mm." She glanced back at him. His tone was casual, just making conversation, so she didn’t bother explaining further. When they arrived, Summer reached for the door handle. Before she could get out, Fraser lazily caught her wrist. "You’re just leaving like that?" His tone was almost teasing—like a lover reluctant to say goodbye. Summer blinked. Was she supposed to invite him upstairs for tea or something? She cleared her throat. "Thanks for saving me." Seeing that he didn’t respond, she quickly added, "I’ll treat you to a meal sometime." Then, realizing how ridiculously wealthy he was, she corrected herself. "Of course, if you’re willing to humor me." Fraser tapped his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, his gaze sharp and unreadable. He didn’t acknowledge the dinner invitation at all. "Usually, when two people sleep together, they say goodbye with a kiss, don’t they?" Summer stiffened. "Fraser, do you do this every time you part ways with a woman?" Amusement flickered in his deep-set eyes. His voice dropped, slow and teasing. "I don’t have ‘women.’ But Summer, if you want to be mine, I could consider it. We’re quite compatible, after all." Summer's lips twitched. "I don’t want to be your woman." Fraser’s definition of "his woman" was probably nowhere near what she would call a proper girlfriend. She had already failed miserably at being Trevor’s girlfriend. She wasn’t about to throw herself into another disaster. Jumping from one fire pit straight into another—if she did that, she wouldn’t just be unlucky. She’d be downright stupid. Fraser smirked, lowering his voice deliberately. "Is that so? That’s not what you said last night. You were practically begging me—" Before he could finish, Summer clamped a hand over his mouth. Fraser raised an eyebrow, the amusement in his expression growing. His quiet laughter vibrated against her palm. His sharp features were half-covered by her hand, but his dark, gleaming eyes burned into hers. Her heart skipped a beat. Avoiding his gaze, she quickly pulled her hand back. "Well… I’ll be going now. Goodbye." Not waiting for another word, she yanked open the door and bolted. With a soft chuckle, Fraser watched her retreating figure. His gaze darkened slightly, sharp and focused—like a predator watching its prey. Summer, you started this. You think you can just walk away? … Summer returned to her apartment—a simple, two-bedroom, one-bath space around 1,100 square feet. One bedroom, one study. Cozy, not extravagant. It wasn’t a luxurious penthouse, but the small balcony bathed in sunlight, filled with plants, made it feel like home. Trevor had always complained that her place was too small. He had never once set foot inside. Instead, he had bought her multiple high-end apartments, urging her to move. But Summer liked this one. Because she had bought it with her own money. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed an empty box from the storage room. One by one, she packed away everything Trevor had ever given her. By the time she was done, the box was completely full. No surprise there. It was proof of five years of love. And there were still so many things she had left at his villa. Sitting on the floor, she stared blankly at the box of memories. A photo album. A few property deeds. Several pieces of expensive jewelry. And an engagement ring. The properties alone were worth tens of millions. For years, she had naively believed that Trevor would eventually warm up to her. Then Peyton had come back. And the ending had been painfully predictable. First loves. They never lose. Summer exhaled slowly. She would sell the properties. Consider it compensation for the years she had wasted on that man.