Old friends never run out of things to say, and seeing Remi Crawford’s lips fluttering nonstop, Damian Spencer knew immediately: she’d had one too many.

He leaned back in his chair, watching her chatter away with vivacious, drunken delight, his expression softened by indulgence. Across the table, a friend couldn't help but capture the moment on her phone. After snapping the photo, she stared at the screen, nearly drooling with envy.

"Wow, I’m literally drowning in the way he’s looking at you right now."

She shoved her phone screen right in front of Remi. "Remi, I’m not asking for much—just find me a guy who meets your boyfriend’s standards. I am obsessed."

Remi took the phone, looking at the image of the two of them. In the photo, she was beaming like a flower, while Damian’s eyes were locked onto hers, deep and drowning in affection.

"Jemma, this is a great shot. Send it to me."

Jemma snatched the phone back, clutching it to her chest with a mischievous smirk. "Sure. Pay up."

"Easy."

Remi reached for her phone, but Damian gently intercepted her hand. "Let me."

He scanned the QR code on Jemma’s screen. A ping echoed through the table as the payment went through, and Jemma’s jaw nearly hit the floor as she stared at her screen.

"Ten thousand? You’re kidding!"

She gestured toward the couple as if worshipping them, her excitement boiling over. "Remi, don’t make me beg you—where on earth did you find a boyfriend like this?"

"Haha, guess I just got lucky!"

Jemma waved her phone at the rest of the group. "Ladies, I just struck gold! Karaoke is on me tonight—let’s keep the party going!"

"Yeah!"

A wave of cheers and applause erupted around the table. Remi grabbed Damian’s hand, flashing him a wide, radiant smile.

"Damian, does my face look like it's glowing today?"

"Hm?"

Damian didn’t quite get the weird question, but he watched her flushed little face with a doting, earnest intensity.

"It’s because you’ve made me look so good by being here."

Seeing the sparkle in her eyes and her charming, tipsy playfulness, he reached out to give her nose a playful, affectionate flick.

"Oooooh!"

The group let out a collective, teasing sigh. Remi’s face turned bright red, and she buried her head into Damian’s chest.

"Alright, alright, enough teasing. You’re making her shy."

Jemma kept the energy high, and despite the raucous nature of the dinner, the mood remained light and breezy. As the group started feeling the alcohol, they decided to switch venues for an after-party.

Inside the karaoke suite, Remi was the only one who’d brought a boyfriend, so, naturally, she couldn't escape the pressure to sing a love song. The group pushed her toward the console. She didn't hesitate, picking up the microphone with a grin.

"Fine, one song for all of you, then."

"Haha, that’s our girl, Remi!"

The lyrics of a cheesy, viral pop ballad filled the room, firing everyone up as they sang along. Damian sat back, stunned by their boundless energy, yet felt a pang of envy. This was the raw, untethered joy of youth.

The group didn't wind down until 1:00 AM. Remi, now completely buzzed, slumped onto the sofa. Damian chuckled, looking at her languid form. "Tired of playing the part of the wild child?"

The others had dispersed, but the ringing of the music still echoed in his ears. He rubbed his temples for a moment before standing up to scoop her into his arms.

When they arrived at the Crawford residence, Alicia Crawford was still waiting in the living room, a bowl of hangover soup already prepared. Damian carried her inside and gently laid her on the couch.

"Mrs. Crawford, we're home."

Seeing her daughter being carried in by Damian, Alicia hurried over to check on her.

"I knew this wild girl would drink too much."

Whenever she went out with her friends, she always left upright and came back horizontal. Alicia offered an awkward explanation to Damian, "Damian, I promise Remi is usually much more responsible than this."

"I know, Mrs. Crawford. She’s wonderful."

Seeing no hint of annoyance on his face, Alicia finally relaxed and gestured for the housekeepers to bring over the soup.

"You both drink this, or you’ll have a splitting headache tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Mrs. Crawford."

Damian took the bowl and downed it in one go. Remi took hers just as dutifully, gulping it down like a thirsty calf.

"Damian..." Alicia’s expression grew complex, her words catching in her throat.

"Yes, Mrs. Crawford?"

"Never mind. Just get her upstairs to rest."

"Of course."

Alicia had meant to mention that she’d prepped the guest room. After all, they weren’t married yet, and it was hardly proper for them to stay in the same room on his first visit. But looking at how naturally close they were, she realized it would be a moot point.

Upstairs, Damian started the bath. After a day of partying, she was sweaty and exhausted; she wouldn't be able to sleep comfortably like that. Once the temperature was perfect, he tucked in a cherry-blossom-scented bath bomb she liked.

Everything ready, he returned to the bedroom and called her softly. "Remi, let’s get you cleaned up first, okay?"

Remi was still conscious, but her body had stopped listening to her brain. Every movement felt like the world was spinning. After a few failed attempts to sit up, she surrendered, slumping back onto the bed. "I can't move. You wash me."

Damian took a long, heavy moment to steel himself before reaching out to peel off her clothes. Having shared intimacy with her before, he found it impossible to look at her body with a calm heart.

He bit his lip, forcing his eyes to look away. He had to be disciplined; he was terrified that if he looked, he’d end up acting like a beast while she was too drunk to protest.

Thankfully, the bath bomb had turned the water into a basin of pink, opaque foam. The water reached her shoulders, leaving only her pale, rounded collarbones visible. Damian submerged his hands, wiping her down with a towel in a rushed, frantic manner, his brow furrowed, his resolve hardened.

Remi lay there like a beautiful porcelain doll, letting him handle her. The sight of her—so yielding and sweet—was absolute torture.

Even without letting his eyes wander, his memory burned with the image of her. A fire roared in his gut, a heat so intense he had to grit his teeth. He quickly wrapped her in a bath towel, and only then did he dare to shift his gaze back to her face.

He muttered a self-deprecating laugh, "Who knew I could be such a slave to my own desires?"

Her face was still flushed from the alcohol. Under the soft light, he could see the tiny, fine hairs on her cheeks, making her look like an adorable, succulent peach.

He stroked her cheek, his touch filled with devotion. "My Remi... everything about you is perfectly catered to my taste."

Remi seemed to enjoy the warmth of his hand, nuzzling her face against his palm.

"Heh, you little cat."

He held his position, staring at her face for a long time, reveling in the softness of her skin. Only when her breathing leveled out, signaling she had truly drifted off to sleep, did he dare to pull his hand away.

Today had been exhausting. His own eyelids felt heavy, pulling at him. He took a quick shower, returned to bed, kissed her cheek, and pulled her into his arms, finally closing his eyes in complete contentment.