The temperature in the car seemed to rise all of a sudden, she involuntarily unbuttoned the collar, feeling a bit stuffy.

Her mind couldn’t help but recall Sylvan Cheney’s beastly nature from before.

Jasmine Yale blushed, opened the window, what a mess.

She couldn’t stand the atmosphere in the car.

The evening breeze blew in, and she finally felt a little comfortable, but around her waist...

At some point, Sylvan Cheney’s hand had wrapped around her waist, perhaps feeling defeated, he said nothing, resting his head on her shoulder, his hand gripping her waist.

As Jasmine Yale shifted her body slightly, his hand only tightened further.

That tingling sensation spread from her waist to her entire body, every cell permeated with a sense of ambiguity.

Sylvan Cheney’s palms were wide and strong, holding her waist, refusing to let go.

His head rested on her shoulder, and his warm breath sprayed onto her ear, scorching hot.

Jasmine Yale was about to break down.

As he leaned closer to her, she could clearly feel his body tense.

He was a normal man, and she was a normal woman, besides, they had been physically intimate before.

"Sylvan, Sylvan Cheney..." her voice trembled a bit, "Sit properly."

"Mm..." he murmured but didn’t move.

"Sit properly."

"Mm..."

"You... forget it." Jasmine Yale no longer insisted, there was really no reasoning with someone who’s drunk.

After a while, Sylvan Cheney remained silent.

Jasmine Yale thought he was asleep and said nothing, afraid of provoking him into a chatter again.

Through the fabric, the warmth of his palm spread to her waist, like thousands of ants crawling, tingling.

"What do I like about you... Sometimes I wonder, clovers are hard to find, but are women hard to find? Me, Sylvan Cheney, standing casually by the roadside, there’d be women flirting with me. I might lack money, lack a car, lack a house, but I certainly don’t lack women. So why do I insist on having you when you’re like a hedgehog?"

"You..." Jasmine Yale didn’t know what to say.

"No, you’re not even as good as a little hedgehog, a little hedgehog has a heart, you don’t even have a heart," Sylvan Cheney murmured, "When raised well, a little hedgehog won’t prick people, sometimes they’re quite cute..."

"Hedgehogs are so cute, why don’t you hug one to sleep!" Jasmine Yale snapped.

"See, I said you’re a hedgehog, and you don’t admit it, I haven’t even said anything. You..."

"Sylvan Cheney, you men who can’t speak deserve to be single for the rest of your life."

"Alright, I’m sorry, hon, I’m sorry... I won’t make you angry anymore... Hon, no fighting," Sylvan Cheney held her tighter, his tone soft and compromising.

"Get lost."

"In the future, if I say something wrong, you can hit me, okay? But don’t leave me, I don’t need anything, but I can’t not have you..."

Jasmine Yale chuckled.

He said these words when he was sober, said them and forgot, let alone when he wasn’t sober.

As he spoke, she just listened for now.

When he’s upset, he doesn’t remember any sweet words he said.

He said she was like a hedgehog, but he’s the one who’s really like a hedgehog, having said really harsh words to her.

"Sylvan Cheney, you also know you’re prone to attract women, and I happen to not be someone who’s good at handling social relationships, especially with women, so, I don’t plan to live a very tiring life because of these things in the future."

"It’s not my fault for being good-looking," Sylvan Cheney frowned.