The Continent of Europe

Chapter 36's

...CHAPTRE 36...

...BOYFRIEND'S SHIRT...

"Is that your jacket, James?" oliver asked as he pointed at the jacket Rosaline was wearing as the girl chatted with the security guard.

James nodded, not even bothering to look up just to look in the direction Oliver pointed.

"Have you fallen in love with her?"

This time the blond man looked up in surprise. His face seemed to question the sentence that Oliver had spoken earlier and Oliver just grinned, shrugged and waved his hand in the air.

"Well, she's better than that woman if you want me to say it. Don't worry, I'll support you."

James grunting. "How could I fall in love with her? He's like a kid. Very messy and definitively not my type," he commented, reciprocated by a laugh from Oliver.

"We'll see, okay? Who knows, you'll be crazy about him in the future. Begging him to return your feelings."

James spit. "As if I wanted it, Oliver."

"Well, she's better than that woman."

"That woman has a name and that's Clark!"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders unconcerned. "Whatever."

He walked away, leaving the angry James alone there. He approached Rosaline who was still chatting with the security guard while laughing and smiling, as if the conversation between them was really exciting.

Oliver placed his hand on Rosaline's shoulder, embracing her from behind, making the girl flinch in shock.

"Wow, your smelled like James," he commented, sniffing at the jacket Rosaline was wearing. "Is this James' jacket?" He asked despite the fact that he knew it was James' jacket.

Rosalyn. With a face that instantly flushed red as the dark pink hue that filled his cheeks nodded in silence. Shame to answer.

Oliver grinned, unable to resist teasing her. "Oh, boyfriend's shirt, huh?"

This time, the dark pink tinge on Rosaline's cheeks disappeared. The girl was startled, instantly replaced with a look of horror that stared at Oliver's face.

"Oh no. James is Clark's girlfriend, I'm not his girlfriend. He just lent me his jacket for a second. I'll return it later," he replied in a panic.

Oliver chuckles. "OK, I'm just kidding, okay? There was no need to take it seriously," he defended, but a hint of laughter came out of his mouth.

Rosaline pouted, feeling embarrassed at the same time. He turned around only to meet his emerald eyes with James's gray eyes, which were staring at him intensely from a distance.

Their eyes were fixated for a long time before Rosaline finally broke them by turning her eyes the other way. He could feel the heat growing on his face, cursing softly at his pale complexion as it could have made the red tinge look even clearer.

After that, they returned with their usual activities. James with his monitor, and Rosaline, he's pretending to read. But what he actually did was glance at James who was sitting at the table.

He looks very focused on his monitor and Rosaline swears he finds it very interesting to watch.

"Is there something on my face? Or is there something you want to say, Smith? If so, tell me what it is. I could feel your dull eyes staring at me and it was troubling me a lot."

At first Rosaline hesitated to tell the man what she was thinking now. Of course, he would only laugh at her.

So Rosaline closed the book she used to pretend to read earlier and sat up straight.

"Well, I just wondering. Why don't you ever get mad at me or maybe with Kaylie? You know, we've both beaten your girlfriend to death."

James looked at her with furrowed brows and a curious glint in his eyes. “What?” she asked. Tilting his head in confusion, as if he had not heard the girl.

Rosaline pouting. He was one hundred percent sure that the man heard what he said just now, but, instead of answering him, the blond man pretended not to hear it.

Rosaline stood up, walked around the table and stopped in front of him. "I'm sure you heard me clearly, Mr. Adlers. Or is there something wrong with your ears? Should we go to the hospital and check on him?" He said, hands on waist as if mocking.

Instead of replying to him, James simply grinned. The man leaned against the stand, crossed his arms in front of his chest and spoke, "So, you want me to be mad at you? Like what's? Reply to your blow? Then after?"

Rosaline froze, not even knowing what to say. He stood there, awkwardly staring at the blond man who was still grinning at him. He bit his lower lip, then decided to take his eyes off.

"Well, I don't know? Maybe be the bad guy for me while we're here? Or, pretend that I don't exist? That's easy, right?"

"Then, what's the reasonable reason for me to do that?"

"Pardon?" Rosaline asked, glaring confusedly.

James took a breath. "I asked you an idiot. What's a reasonable reason for me to do that?"

"Well, 'cause I hit your girlfriend?"

James raised an eyebrow. "just that? It's funny."

The man stood up, moving the weight from one leg to the other. They were so close that James could feel Rosaline's breath on his neck, and it was supposed to be disgusting, but the girl smelled like tea and cinnamon. There is something like honey too. Did it come from her hair?

"By the way, as you know, tomorrow we will go to the construction site. We'll check progress in some areas of London first and I hope you come here on time. At least one hour before we go, I already see your ugly face here. Verstant, Ms. Smith?"

Rosaline snorted, already thinking of setting an alarm by her bedside. "Yes, I know. Don't worry, I won't be late anymore" she said with a smile for the man to believe her.

Although Rosaline herself was not so sure whether she could wake up early or not. Remember, she is not a morning person.

"Good then. If you're late again, I'll report you to the professor in charge of the architecture faculty about how unconcerned you are with this project. I'm sure he'll definitely give you an E in all your courses."

Rosaline rolled her eyes. "Fines. I'm not gonna be late. I promise," he said desperately. Maybe asking Daniel or Reagan to wake her up, worth a try.

James grinned and pushed Rosaline aside, giving way for her to walk through the door to get out before Rosaline cut in. Talk again.

"Your jacket. I'll return it tomorrow. I'll wash it first. You don't mind if your jacket smells like my detergent?"

James sneered. "No need, just take it. I have a lot of jackets in my house. So keep it, just think of it as a good donation and charity from me to you."

"I'm not that poor, you little sh—!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. No one wants to admit that he is poor. Hye!"

Clap up!

Door closes. Leaving Rosaline alone in there with a million vexations in her heart.

"Based on the rich!"