Chapter 126

126 A Sour Turn Scarlett’s POV I ignore the ice coke.

As if I would reach out for it and give Ava a good laugh!

I got myself some mashed potatoes and some salad, but nothing on the table lures me like the hot, steamy bowl right in front of me. No one is even touching it, and I can’t, not with something cold to go with. I guess I can settle for a cup of ice water...

I glare at the plain, boring water. I don’t want it..

My eyes dart to the kitchen. Maybe there is more coke in there? The Fullers don’t drink sodas. Having a daughter fighting death every day does that — they eat and do everything to the extremely healthy. But maybe–

“The coke came with the order,” Sebastian suddenly says, with an innocent tone no less, as if he didn’t just see through my thoughts, “The restaurant? They surely know how to enjoy a good buffalo wing.”

I do, too! I begin to regret pushing the coke away. Yes, the jerk got it, but the coke was innocent. I shouldn’t have lashed out on the poor drink.

It’s all on him!

I glare at the devil who single–handedly ruined my dinner, and in shock, I freeze as he reaches out for a wing!

“You don’t eat spicy!” I hiss at him, squeezing words out of my clenched teeth while maintaining a smile.

“I just never tried it before,” He waves the poor, unappreciated piece of chicken in his fingers, “it doesn’t mean I won’t like it once I do.”

Yeah, right. That’s how spicy works. Never experienced it in your life, and you can just suddenly get it. I roll my eyes, put down my fork, and look at him, a taunting smile on my lips: “You surrender now, I’ll take that hot trouble off your hand, along with the ice coke.”

He chuckles at me in a very arrogant way. Well, I tried saving him.

I watch him gulp down that chicken wing like a bear fighting a stingy hornet’s nest — everywhere his lips touch the meat, his body wants to fall back when his mind orders him to save face. He lets out a long groan when he is finally through. His lips are glittering red and sweat is literally rolling off his head.

Seeing his pain does make me feel better!

T put my elbow on the table, my fist supporting my head so I can sit sideways easily as I enjoy his torment.

“You look like you enjoy your new experience very much, Mr. Knight,” I try really hard, but I can’t keep my ips from curving up, “the ice coke puts the oil on fire, try it.”

He shakes his head, in so much pain he can’t talk. With a bone held in his hand, he stares at me as if lost.

“Why not?” I taunt him, “Worried you might get addicted to it? By the way, how did you know I like ice coke with buffalo wings?”

1/2 126 A Sour Turn +25 BONUS “Would you still touch it if I took a sip?” Ignoring my question, he mumbles without looking at me.

No. I don’t want anything to do with him. He knows that, too. He pushes the coke to my side, carefully with just one finger: “I got it for you, so you can have it. No pressure though.”

I look at him, no longer able to laugh.

This is why I loved him, and this is why I hate him. He can be so nice to you that you would feel like you are cared for in every way you want. Even when he cares or spoils, he does it in a good manner. All his cruelty, he gave me and only me.

This is how he was able to hurt me so deeply — he knows what I want now, as much as he knew where to hurt me the most before.

All he did today, he has done it for Ava before just for me to watch.

I no longer want the chicken wings. The luring excitement turned into bitter sourness. I didn’t touch the wings, or any other things, and for the rest of the dinner, we all just sat there and watched Sebastian finish that bowl all by himself.

Ava was about to burst into tears in the middle of it, and I secretly searched online for “Is it dangerous to have triple hot buffalo wings if someone has never had spicy food“.

When he finished, his whole shirt was all wet. It was clear that I wasn’t going to have the ice coke, but he never touched it until the end.

I know what game he is playing. I just don’t want to play it. This man is too dangerous. He was when he hated me, and he still is, when he wanted me.

With a light sigh, I stand up to leave. He wipes his hand with the wet towel in haste before he follows me–

“I’m leaving. Won’t you at least come to the car and say goodbye?”