Chapter 175

Joe stood, but Skylar gently pulled him back. "Don't go"

Joe raised an eyebrow, peering down at her. "Are you really drunk, or just pretending?"

Skylar blinked her foggy eyes, trying to focus. Her vision remained blurry, as if a mist obscured him. Yet, she felt an unknown danger, like a persistent dream.

She slumped onto the bed, feeling powerless, betrayed by someone she trusted.

"Christopher" she mumbled.

Joe's expression turned cold at the name. How could that scumbag still be on her mind?

"Get away from me," Skylar said, releasing his hand. Her earlier affection now replaced by disgust. Joe's expression remained sullen. Moments ago she'd been clinging to him; now she wanted him gone.

"Leave me alone!" she added, feeling her previous words insufficient to express her contempt for Christopher. She never wanted to see him again. He disgusted her.

Remembering those years made her heart ache—not because of Christopher's pain, but because she realized she'd wasted her youth on him, ignoring other admirers. Even the top student in the class had confessed his feelings. It was a waste.

Joe stared sternly. "I should have left you to sleep on the ground to sober up. Otherwise, who knows what kind of filth was filling your mind?"

He felt somewhat relieved after saying this. He roughly grabbed the blanket she'd kicked off, yanked it up, and tossed it over her before leaving.

The next morning, Skylar woke with a pounding headache and a vague recollection of Joe's warning about drinking. She seemed to have blacked out. Had she said anything in response? The aftermath of the alcohol made her regret drinking. She rubbed her temples, trying to piece together the previous night's events.

"Oh, no. I can't remember a thing! I didn't do anything weird after getting drunk last night, did I? I mean, I have a good character, so I would have good drinking manners too, right?" She convinced herself she'd obediently gone upstairs to sleep.

As Skylar walked out, she bumped into Joe, who'd just left the room.

"Good morning," she greeted, a hint of guilt in her voice. Joe's frosty expression suggested something had happened.

Joe raised an eyebrow slightly. "Sober now?" He asked about her sobriety, not her awakening. Skylar sighed inwardly. One couldn't have both good character and good drinking habits, huh?

She asked, "I went upstairs to sleep after I got drunk yesterday, right? Did I cause you any trouble?"

"Trouble? Not trouble, but injuries," Joe calmly replied.

Skylar was startled. Had she hit him? Was she such a problematic drinker?

"Let me see where you're hurt. I really don't remember anything. Is it serious? Should we go to the hospital?" she asked anxiously.

Joe pointed to his chest. "The injury is here. Are you sure you want to see it? Should I take my clothes off for you to check?"

Skylar stumbled back, mortified. "I How did this happen?" Her fighting skills were civilized; she wouldn't usually target vital areas.

"You touched, rubbed, and pinched almost all over my chest. Do you still want to see it?" Joe smiled faintly, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

Skylar's face flushed instantly.