He only ever treated her like a treasure at night, when he needed someone to take care of a man’s needs, right?

The more Summer Sutton thought about it, the more stifled she felt.

As she brooded, her resentment toward Watt Bennet flared up again.

Watt had his head down, undoing the zipper of her dress; this seemed to have become their standard mode of interaction lately.

He wouldn’t come back until the dead of night, and after he did, he had nothing else to say to her. Once they were in bed, he just went straight to doing what he wanted to do.

Summer pressed down on his hand, her closed eyes suddenly flying open.

"What? Planning to mess around till god knows when again like the last few nights?"

"If you want to sleep early, we can do that too." Watt pushed her hand away and went back to what he was doing.

He tugged down the straps of her nightgown, already about to pull it off, when Summer stopped him again.

"Adrian Walyon, is there really nothing else you can do when you come home?" Her clear eyes fixed on him as Summer asked slowly.

There wasn’t much fluctuation in her tone; everything was pressed down, contained.

What Summer was thinking was, if he could just give her a reasonable explanation for these late nights over the past few days, she’d accept it.

What she was waiting for, really, was just one explanation from him.

Summer wasn’t someone who liked to nitpick. As long as he explained things to her clearly, she didn’t have the time or energy to harp on them.

Watt fell silent for a moment after her words.

Summer thought he was reflecting on his own behavior, but after she waited and waited, what she got instead was, "We’ve been in the red for the past two months. Now we’re just paying it back."

He said it as if it was only natural, his tone carrying even a touch of roguishness.

The expression on Summer’s face slowly froze over.

She knew it—this kind of man could never say anything nice.

Summer drew in a steadying breath, then slowly added, "This morning, you’re the one who told me to come back early. I was home by six. Where were you?"

"Summer..." Watt called her name softly, a jumble of words stuck in his chest, but in the end, nothing came out.

After a long silence, he finally squeezed out, "Starting tomorrow, you’re moving in with me."

Summer was stunned for a second, not understanding what he meant by that.

Either way, the only thing he did when he came back every day, aside from the stuff in bed, was nothing at all.

Did you really need to pick a place to do that kind of thing?

"No." Without even thinking about it, Summer refused him flat out.

"Tomorrow morning I’ll have Marshall Quinn come over to help you move what you need." Watt had no intention of discussing it with her, tossing out the line before starting to do whatever he wanted again.

Summer was furious at his behavior, and in anger she kicked him.

She’d used a bit too much force and seemed to have hit Watt’s injured spot; Summer clearly heard him suck in a breath.

The second he was in pain, Summer’s heart started aching for him again.

She just had no defenses against him. She was obviously still angry, but she still climbed up from the sofa, squatted down beside him, and started checking him over. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you want me to call Alexander?"

The nervousness was written all over her face; she was one step away from pacing circles around him.

Watt watched her reaction without giving anything away, the corner of his lips quirking almost imperceptibly.

His smile was very faint; if you didn’t look closely, it was easy to miss.

However, when Summer turned her head, she still caught it.

Summer’s gaze locked onto the corner of his mouth, and she stared for a few seconds.

Realizing she’d been tricked, she shoved him angrily. "Adrian Walyon, that’s enough!"