A Twisted Love Affair
Chapter 40: Wait for me, I’ll pick you up_1

Chapter 40: Wait for me, I’ll pick you up_1

"Everyone says they’re busy, but then it’s ’get out of the car and wait for me’."

How domineering.

Shen Jing sent Zhou Luchen another address: "7 o’clock, I’m going to visit my grandma. I don’t have time right now."

She gave the address of her grandmother’s place.

There was no reply.

Shen Jing turned off her phone. Half an hour later, she had the driver stop at the junction ahead, walked back to the alley with her small umbrella, folded it, entered the building, and went upstairs.

Upon opening the door, the teacups and dishes on the table were still neatly arranged. The place was cleaned thoroughly every day. The older neighbor often came to help care for Grandma.

Shen Jing leaned against the doorframe for a moment, then turned off the light.

Grandma’s voice came from the room, "Nannan, you’re back! Have you eaten?"

Shen Jing had no choice but to turn the lights back on and reply, "Yes, I have."

After a long pause, Grandma fell silent again. Shen Jing walked to the doorway of the room, poked her head in, and saw her sleeping peacefully.

Festive lights adorned the city, cloaked in a misty rain.

A black sports car turned a corner and drove onto a one-way street.

At the intersection, Zhou Luchen braked smoothly, glancing over with an air of nonchalance.

A young woman stood at the corner, dressed in a beige fitted dress. She had one arm crossed, while the other held a small, transparent umbrella. Her head was slightly bowed as she played with the shallow puddles on the ground.

Her white flat shoes occasionally tapped lightly at a puddle.

The night air was slightly cool at this hour. A gentle breeze brushed through her long, loose hair. Silhouetted against the dim light, she looked vulnerable and frail.

Just then, the young woman slowly lifted her gaze to him, then folded her umbrella, got into the car, and buckled her seatbelt.

Zhou Luchen had never asked where she was from or where she lived, and naturally, she never volunteered the information.

He wasn’t actually punctual, arriving four minutes late.

Zhou Luchen wasn’t in a rush to start the car. His long arm was bent, resting against the car window, propping up his handsome profile. His thin, blade-like lips were slightly pursed.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you like stepping in puddles?"

"Huh?" Shen Jing was startled, looking up at him. "Don’t you like it?"

She found splashing in water fun and always did it when she saw a puddle.

Zhou Luchen chuckled softly. He didn’t speak but pressed the car’s start button and steered away.

Inside the enclosed car, the lack of conversation created a particularly delicate atmosphere.

Her breathing quickened, her heart in a flutter.

His car always carried the same scent. It was hard to tell if it was cologne or his own natural scent, but it had a strong, cool fragrance, reminiscent of ancient sandalwood resin steeped in snow—deep, dense, and captivating.

His silent, indifferent demeanor seemed to make the fragrance even more alluring.

Shen Jing even found herself wanting to ask if it was cologne or the scent of his suit.

While he waited at a traffic light, Shen Jing leaned over slightly, moving closer to his shoulder, and discreetly sniffed his black suit jacket.

The sandalwood scent was deeper, more intense—the epitome of masculine allure.

Zhou Luchen’s eyelids lifted slightly. He glanced at her unhurriedly. "What are you doing?"

Startled, Shen Jing sat bolt upright, her fingers fiddling with the seatbelt.

She tried to deflect. "You should focus on driving. You’ll get photographed and fined."

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a smile play on Zhou Luchen’s lips. He had been focused on driving; she was the restless one.

He pressed the accelerator, steering with one hand. With his free hand, he caught Shen Jing’s, pulling her palm into his broad one and kneading it gently.

Before her hand could even warm in his grasp, he distinctly pried her palm open, almost forcefully threading his fingers between hers.

Once their fingers were tightly interlaced, he placed their joined hands on his thigh.

Shen Jing’s eyelids twitched. Before she could react, her hand was already pressed against the comfortable fabric of his trousers, their fingers dominantly intertwined.

His handsome, thin lips moved slightly. "Now what? I don’t feel like driving properly anymore."

His tone was always light and leisurely, carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of flirtation.

It made him sound mischievous.

Yes, very mischievous.

But not entirely mischievous—just teasing her with an easy confidence.

Shen Jing leaned back in her seat, tilting her head. "So, is that my fault then?"

He glanced at her. "Still mad at me?"