Chapter 44: Don’t you like me anymore?

Theo’s body visibly locked tight.

The muscle beneath the white shirt was already hard; the moment she pinched it, that "tile" tightened another two degrees.

May pulled her hand back with pure surprise, examining her own fingers. "So hard! Mr. Doctor, did you grow up eating steel plates?"

Theo kept his eyes lowered. His Adam’s apple bobbed once. The fingers around the wine glass closed a fraction tighter. His voice stayed even, yet the final note dropped a full register lower than usual.

"If you pinch me one more time, I can’t guarantee the ’scalpel’ will stay in its original position."

"Tch, so stingy."

May pouted and turned, swaying toward Alex next.

Alex spread both arms wide, face full of expectation. "May—"

"Heeeeey!"

She grabbed his collar with both hands and yanked him forward so hard he nearly face-planted into her.

Alex’s smile froze. "...What?"

"Good big boy," she said, shaking his collar while her unfocused eyes studied his face. "You look exactly like the kind of good big boy I’m going to give birth to someday. Round face, big eyes—clearly the type that knows how to nurse."

Three seconds of silence.

"Pfft—" Mitch burst out laughing so hard red wine shot from his nose. He coughed and pounded his own chest.

Jack’s shoulders shook with muffled laughter from the corner.

Even Ace turned his head away, shoulders trembling slightly.

Alex’s complexion cycled through white, red, and green before he finally dragged in a deep breath and forced out a stiff smile. "May, you’re drunk."

"I’m not drunk!"

May released him, planted both hands on her hips, and spun in a circle—nearly tripping over her own feet. "I’m perfectly fine! I’m just happy! You’re all still alive, Ace’s alive too—I’m happy!"

As she spoke, her voice softened. The rims of her eyes turned red. Her lips pushed out in a pout that looked ready to cry and laugh at the same time.

Every man’s expression shifted.

Mitch stopped laughing. He scratched the back of his head, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Jack stood up from the corner, took two steps forward, then froze, turning in place without knowing what to do.

Alex’s fake smile faded. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Theo set down his glass and was about to speak when—

"Enough."

The low voice exploded from the far corner.

Ray had barely spoken and barely drunk the entire evening. He leaned against the deepest wall, long legs bent, the glass of red wine in his hand completely untouched. From beginning to end he had held the same posture—watching.

Watching Mitch use alcohol as an excuse to act spoiled. Watching Theo deliver his clinical analysis. Watching Ace stare at her with that skin-crawling intensity. Watching Alex bounce around looking for presence. Watching Jack shrink into a ball like a quail.

And watching her.

Watching her ruffle Mitch’s hair, pinch Theo’s stomach, yank Alex’s collar.

She smiled at every single one of them, pressed close to every single one of them, had something to say to every single one of them.

He hadn’t managed to steal a single word the entire time.

Ray set the glass on the floor and stood. His 1.95-meter frame unfolded and blocked half the light in the warehouse. He strode forward, cutting straight through the open space between the others, and stopped in front of May.

She tipped her head back to look at him. Her brain was pure mush; all she registered was this enormous "mountain" looming over her and stealing her light.

"Boss? Do you also want me to pat your ’head’?"

She stretched out a small hand, reaching toward him.

Ray didn’t give her the chance. He bent, one arm locking around her waist, the other scooping under her knees, and simply hauled her onto his shoulder.

"Hey—?"

May’s head hung upside-down. Everything went dark; her hair swept the floor. "Boss, what are you doing?! Put me down!"

"Shut up."

He carried her toward the side storage room without a single glance at Mitch as he passed.

"Hey!"

Mitch jumped up, ready to chase. "Why are you carrying her off? We haven’t finished drinking!"

Ray never slowed. Without turning his head he tossed back one sentence: "She’s drunk. I’m putting her to bed."

"To bed?"

Alex’s voice drifted over, that punchable smile already curling at the corners of his mouth. "Boss, isn’t that side room the place where... the rest of us were going to sleep later? You’re starting early."

Ray’s back stiffened for half a second.

He turned his head just enough to show one cold, water-wringing profile. His eyes swept from Alex to Mitch, from Mitch to Ace, then past Theo and Jack.

"You sleep outside."

"On what grounds—" Mitch’s protest died the instant it met Ray’s gaze.

Whatever rolled in those eyes made his back molars clamp shut. The rest of the sentence stayed swallowed.

Ray carried May into the dim storage room.

The moment the door shut behind them, she hung over his shoulder, head spinning, still muttering.

"Boss... you’re so hot. Do you have a stove hidden under your clothes...?"

His stride hitched for half a beat. The muscles under her body turned iron-hard.

He lifted her off his shoulder and set her down on the moisture-proof mat.

The second her feet touched the ground she went soft. Both arms locked around his neck and refused to let go. She hung against his chest, cheek rubbing along the zipper of his combat uniform.

"Don’t move."

Ray’s voice was sandpaper-rough. Both hands clamped onto her shoulders and tried to peel her off.

She was peeled away—then immediately pressed close again.

Drunk beyond reason, she tugged at the collar of his combat uniform and mumbled, "The zipper’s stuck... Boss, why is this shirt so hard to take off..."

"May."

He seized both her wrists, knuckles whitening.

His breathing had already gone uneven. His chest rose and fell hard twice. He looked down at the flushed face blinking up at him with watery eyes—less than three centimeters away.

Outside the door, Alex’s deliberately lowered voice floated through.

"Boss, everything okay? Need help?"

The vein at Ray’s temple jumped three times.

He snapped his head toward the door and growled, "Get lost."

A second of silence, then Mitch’s muffled curse exploded outside: "Fuck!"

Ray turned back. May’s face was still pressed absurdly close, wearing a silly smile. She tilted her head, eyes narrowed into slits, and tapped one index finger against his lips.

"Boss... just now... you were so fierce."