Leaving Pier 7.
It was close to dawn when Luther and Joyce returned home.
Upon entering the house, Luther couldn't resist hugging her.
"Just now, in front of Otis, was it true what you said?"
Joyce glanced at him, not good enough, "Fake."
What time is it now, and he still cares about that. Grasping at what she said and not letting go.
"With a thud, Luther pinned her against the wall and wouldn't let her go.
"Just now you admitted to loving me. I heard you, don't you dare deny it." He wouldn't relent.
Joyce felt powerless and rubbed her temples, "Or what, to say in front of Otis that the two of us used to be falsely married and had no real relationship?"
Luther felt like she had poured cold water over him, and his excitement was gone.
He grimaced, "Is it hard to admit that you love me?"
Before, she vaguely said it when she was drunk, but that doesn't count.
It was the first time she said it when she was sober, and he had to hear her say it himself.
"I ..." Joyce was speechless.
A very simple sentence that seemed really hard to say. In a situation like that just now, she barely thought and blurted it out.
He pressed his body down, his handsome face close to hers.
"Love me or not, love me or not?"
Joyce's cheeks kept heating up as she was held against him on one side.
Want to admit it, but feel embarrassed.
I want to deny it, but I can't say the words to deny it.
Finally, she suddenly stood on tiptoe and her red lips were printed on his lips, "Like this, okay?"
Difficult men, really bad to deal with.
Luther froze, though she offered to kiss him.
But apparently she's trying to muddle through again.
"No." He insisted, and circled her tighter.
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