Chapter 93

Would Joshua really argue with someone who was completely drunk? Of course not, especially when that someone was Shermaine. He'd promised to treat her well, so spoiling her in any situation came naturally.

Shermaine reclined lazily against a pillow on the sofa, as graceful and pampered as a cat. Her bright, glassy eyes shimmered as she fixed Joshua with an imperious gaze, wiggling her feet impatiently. “Hurry up,” she urged.

With gentle patience, Joshua slipped off her shoes, revealing her delicate feet. They were so beautiful, every part of her seemed exquisitely made.

The lounge felt stiflingly hot with the heater on, and once her shoes were off, Shermaine stretched out comfortably on the sofa, shifting to find a cozier position. But the restless drunkard soon grew too warm.

With a careless flick, she hitched up her dress, revealing a pair of slender legs that she absently rubbed against the cool leather of the sofa.

At the sight, Joshua felt a rush of heat in his chest. Without hesitation, he quickly pulled down the dress she had hiked up, making sure she was properly covered.

Shermaine pouted, clearly annoyed. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll catch a cold.”

Shermaine grumbled, “But I’m burning up!”

Joshua said gently, “I’ll turn off the heater, but you have to promise me: no more hiking up your skirt, okay?”

Shermaine grunted, then waved her hand dismissively. “Go ahead then.”

Joshua got up and went to turn off the heater.

But the heat lingered in the room, making Shermaine feel unbearably hot and restless. Lying there grew increasingly uncomfortable, so she hitched up her dress once more.

As Joshua turned around, he was met with an alluring sight. Had anyone else been in the lounge, they would’ve gotten quite an eyeful. But Shermaine clearly didn’t consider him an outsider.

Those shapely legs were breathtakingly beautiful, so striking it was impossible to look away.

“Shermaine, pull your dress down,” he said. His voice roughened with a huskiness he didn’t notice.

Shermaine covered her ears, shaking her head and ignoring his words.

Joshua stepped forward and took hold of the hem of her dress.

But Shermaine grabbed it tightly, refusing to let go.

After a tug-of-war over her dress, Shermaine soon found herself outmatched. Obediently, the hem finally settled back down.

With a tipsy huff, Shermaine aimed a petulant kick at him, only for Joshua to catch her foot steadily.

He wrapped his hand around her ankle and set her foot back down expressionlessly.

Shermaine felt the coolness of his palm. She murmured drowsily, “Your hand is so cool… it feels nice.” The soothing touch finally made her still and stop fussing.

Joshua was torn between leaving his hand where it was or pulling it away – either choice felt awkward.

Soon after, Shermaine felt parched. Licking her lips, she whined, “Joshua, I’m thirsty. I want yogurt, and it has to be ice cold.”

There was no yogurt in the lounge, so Joshua would have to ask the hotel staff for some.

Soon, he made a call to have some delivered.

About five minutes later, the yogurt arrived.

This time, Joshua didn’t just hand the yogurt to Shermaine. He inserted the straw first before giving it to her. Shermaine wrapped her lips around the straw and drank with evident satisfaction.

Seeing she had settled down, Joshua fetched a blanket and draped it over her. “Get some rest,” he said gently. “I’ll take you back to Riverswood Villa later.”

Before he could even stand up, Shermaine grabbed his hand, putting on a serious face. “Sit down,” she ordered.

Joshua lowered his gaze, a faint smile playing in his eyes.

Right now, she acted like a little kid.

It seemed going out to entertain the distinguished guests who had traveled so far was no longer an option. With his usual refined composure, he said gently, “I’m not leaving. You just keep drinking.”

Shermaine clung to his hand and wouldn’t let go, biting the straw as she lazily sipped her yogurt. Noticing Joshua watching her, she assumed he wanted some too. With tipsy generosity, she thrust the drink toward him. “Here,” she said, “you can have a couple sips.”

“I don’t want any,” Joshua said.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?” Shermaine demanded, her words slightly slurred.

Joshua couldn’t exactly admit, even to himself, that just watching Shermaine eat – no matter what it was – always made him want to eat whatever she was having.

This was giving him a bit of a headache.

Shermaine thrust the yogurt into his hand with drunken imperiousness. “I know you want it. Go ahead, but only two sips. I still want it back.” Her look made it clear that she knew exactly what he wanted.

Holding the yogurt, Joshua spotted the glistening moisture on the straw – traces of Shermaine’s lips. For a germaphobe like him, not only had he just taken off her shoes, but now he was actually about to drink from her straw? Even he found it hard to believe.

He wasn’t disgusted; he just couldn’t bring himself to take a sip.

Yet Shermaine fixed him with a burning gaze, her eyes full of expectation.

“Shermaine, I can have someone bring another-”

But Shermaine grew impatient. “Drink it already! Stop stalling and man up!”

At her words, Joshua’s eyes darkened. Apparently, he was already a tough guy and didn’t need to man up this way. As for why he was hesitating, well, that was even harder to explain.

God, what a headache. I really can’t let Shermaine get drunk again. This little troublemaker is just impossible to handle. I’ve never looked after anyone like this before, and honestly, I’m completely out of my depth.

After a moment’s hesitation, Joshua said nothing more. He took the straw in his mouth and took two reluctant sips.

The yogurt was both tangy and sweet.

He never really liked the sweet drinks girls went for; they were just too sugary for him.

Joshua had always preferred coffee. He swallowed with some difficulty, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then handed the yogurt back in a low, even voice. He said, “That’s enough.”

Shermaine took the yogurt back contentedly, her eyes crinkling with satisfaction as she lounged on the sofa and hiccuped tipsily. Flashing a mischievous grin, she declared, “You know, sharing a bottle of yogurt with me is a real privilege; no one else ever gets this chance.”

Hearing this, Joshua caught his breath for a moment, looked at Shermaine with a smile, and replied offhandedly, “Hmm, it’s my honor.”

She watched as Joshua smiled – a faint, ethereal smile, elusive and almost unreal, as if it might vanish at any moment. The glare on his glasses made it hard to see his eyes clearly. Then it suddenly struck her: she had never actually seen him without his glasses.

At this thought, the little troublemaker pouted slightly.

Shermaine patted the spot next to her on the sofa, bossing him around with drunken authority. “Come closer to me.”