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Chapter 897 Chapter 897 When Flora saw the n"Connor," the frosty edge in her eyes melted away in an instant.
"Lucky you," she muttered, shooting Riley an indifferent look before stepping off her and striding away.
As Flora reached the entrance, she spotted a car parked outside.
A man leaned against the car door, his black shirt buttoned neatly to the top. His broad shoulders and slim waist were accentuated under a long black coat; his legs looked strong and capable. Flora's gaze lingered, her eyebrows arching slightly.
Quite the restrained allure.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtQuite the temptation.
"Connor," she called as she approached.
"What's on the menu for lunch?" Connor, seeing her approach, opened the car door for her. Once she was settled in, he asked, "How about shotpot?" Flora suggested after a moment's thought.
Since moving to Lone Island, she hadn't had hotpot and found herself craving it.
"Sounds good." Connor buckled her seatbelt, then pulled out a pack of nuts, tearing it open before handing it to her. "Snack on these for now." Flora took the nuts, popping one into her mouth. They tasted great.
Connor always picked out her snacks with care-they were imported, healthy options, not typical junk food.
Watching her, Connor suddenly asked, "Skipped breakfast today?" Flora paused mid-chew, then admitted, "Yeah, I woke up late and skipped it." She felt a tad guilty.
Breakfast had never been her thing until Connor calong. He made sure she ate every morning, even whipping up nutritious meals with creative flair. After she spoke, she felt a gentle flick on her forehead and looked up to see Connor grinning.
"Looks like I'll need to keep tabs on you." He had everything ready, just sitting in the microwave, and she still missed it.
A young lady needs her meals on time, especially breakfast.
"Alright, Connor, you keep an eye on me," Flora replied, cheeks puffed with another nut.
Connor resisted the urge to poke her cheek started the car, heading owney on it's hotpot joint.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmFlora took out her phone, opened her contacts, and shot a message to "Speedster Supreme." Flora: Do you have a Riley at your club? The reply was quick: Who's this Riley? Doesn't ring a bell, letcheck.
Five minutes later, another message: Oh, that person. Yep, they're a junior coach at our club. Why? You know them? Just as she thought.
Hmph.
Flora typed out, stone-faced: Nice choice there.
After sending it, she put her phone away.
Meanwhile, "Speedster Supreme" was nearly losing it.
Speedster Supreme: What do you mean by that, President? Speedster Supreme: Please, don't scare me! Did that guy tick you off?