"You were the one who forced that kiss, remember?!"

Arianna couldn't hold it in anymore; the words tumbled out in a frustrated rush. Her pale, slender finger jabbed toward a spot a few feet away. "Right there in that corner. You pinned me and kissed me!"

"Is that so? I—"

"Yes!" Arianna cut him off immediately. "And I didn't even push you away!"

Maxwell had never drunk that much in his life. The more he thought about her and Cameron, the more irritated he felt, so he’d simply drank until the world went dark. By the end, he had been completely out of it. The lingering images of Arianna and her ex had finally faded from his mind, replaced only by fragmented, intoxicating memories of last night: the soft, glowing warmth of her lips, her eyes shimmering like water, and the way she had flushed under his touch.

Of course, he didn't actually believe Arianna was trying to take advantage of him. It had been his own suppressed nature finally breaking through. He’d said those things earlier just to tease her, to see if he could get her to admit it herself.

He hadn't expected to actually ruffle her feathers.

He immediately dropped the playful facade and straightened his posture. "I'm sorry. I really had too much to drink last night. I lost control and kissed you."

"What do you mean, 'lost control'?"

"I mean that from the very first day we got married, I’ve wanted to do exactly that."

"Do what?"

"What I did last night."

Arianna fell silent instantly, suddenly regretting that she’d opened her mouth at all.

Maxwell watched her quietly. In truth, he’d wanted to do that much earlier—ever since he first laid eyes on her during their freshman year. After what happened last night, Arianna felt like his gaze was anything but innocent. He kept darting his eyes toward her lips, the same way he had last night before he’d asked her, with such agonizing chivalry, if he could kiss her again. There was a raw heat in his look, yet it wasn't just some primitive, base desire.

"I’ll take responsibility for what happened last night," Maxwell said earnestly.

Arianna couldn't help but rub her temples. *There's really no need.* It was just a kiss—hardly a life-altering event. But she was curious. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

Maxwell looked at her as if he were making a solemn vow, enunciating every word slowly. "I’ll spend the rest of my life taking care of you. That’s the long-term plan. As for the short term, since your mother is out of town, I’ll take over the cooking. Would that be acceptable?"

To be fair, Maxwell was a fantastic cook. Since the first time she’d tasted his food, Arianna had been hooked. To a foodie, this was the ultimate apology.

She agreed without a second thought.

"What would you like for dinner tonight?"

Arianna gave it a moment’s thought and reeled off a few dishes. Across the table, Maxwell pulled out his phone, diligently noting them down in his memos. He looked up again. "Would you like some fruit?"

"Strawberries and oranges, if possible?"

"Of course. Your wish is my command." He typed as he spoke. "And how about a slice of cake for dessert?"

Arianna couldn't help but smile, her eyes curving into crescents. "Thank you."

Maxwell smiled back. "Don't mention it."

After finishing his notes, he locked his phone and set it aside. "I really am sorry about last night. Aside from that, if there’s anything else you want, just say the word. I’ll make sure to make it up to you. Also, if you want… you can always get even."

Arianna started to wave him off, not wanting him to walk on eggshells around her. After all, she bore some responsibility for what happened. From start to finish, she hadn't found the resolve to push him away, which was why things had progressed the way they did.

Hearing his last sentence, she looked at him, bewildered. "Get even? How?"

"Right there," Maxwell said, pointing to the same spot. "In that exact corner. You can force a kiss on me. Consider it square. Would that work?"

Arianna: "..."

She really didn't need him to be this… ridiculous.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, he insisted with a straight face, "Don't worry. I won't resist. You can do whatever you like."

Arianna: "..."

The morning air was still. Shadows of trees danced against the windowpane, and the early sun was warm and bright. A faint hum of cicadas and birdsong drifted in, making the room feel even quieter.

Arianna gulped. A moment later, she awkwardly changed the subject. "This porridge is really good."

"You like it?"

"It’s amazing!" Arianna praised, laying it on thick. "I’ve never had porridge this good in my life!"

She sat by the window, the morning breeze gently tousling her dark hair. Her face was fair and lovely, her eyes dark and clear, and her lips were a soft, vibrant pink. Hidden beneath the curtain of her hair, the tips of her ears were burning red.

Maxwell’s lips curled up slightly, and he went along with her distraction, moving the conversation forward without missing a beat.

"Eat up, then," he said. "When you’re finished, I’ll drive you to the office."

"Huh?"

She looked up, puzzled.

A single grain of rice had stuck to her lip. Maxwell watched as she unconsciously licked the spot, her small, pink tongue sweeping the grain away. She remained completely oblivious, staring at him with that same vague confusion. "Why do you need to drive me?"

Maxwell stared at her moist, glistening lips for a moment before forcing himself to look away, his dark lashes lowering to hide the flicker of hidden intensity in his eyes. He swallowed hard, his voice patient. "Today is the first day of the Tech Expo. The roads will be packed. It’ll be a nightmare to navigate."

"Let the driver take you this week. He can drop you off at the side entrance; no one will notice."

But Arianna wasn't thinking about traffic. She gripped her spoon tightly, stirring her pumpkin porridge. "I can't today."

"Why not?"

"I have something to do later. I'll just take the subway."

Maxwell’s mind immediately flashed back to yesterday and the encounter with Cameron Hughes. His tone cooled. "What is it? Is it important?"

Arianna thought about it. "It’s fairly important."

Her tone was so certain that Maxwell was even more convinced she was planning to meet Cameron. He lowered his gaze, saying nothing. It took him a long time to regain control of his emotions so he wouldn't lash out and ruin the morning—or worse, upset her.

He knew she likely wouldn't care one way or the other, but he still couldn't stand the thought of her being unhappy. He would extinguish any possibility of that himself. His hand, gripping the edge of the table, whitened from the pressure. The tendons on his wrist stood out, a mixture of restraint and raw, masculine tension.

He kept his eyes low, his voice raspy and barely audible. "Oh. Go ahead, then."

"I’m going to buy a ring," Arianna confessed. "If you have time, could you help me pick one out?"

Maxwell looked up sharply. "Why do you need a ring?"

"Cameron came to find me yesterday. I told him I was married to you, but he didn't believe me. He kept bothering me and even followed me into that noodle bar. The wedding ring you bought is too flashy—it’s not practical for everyday wear. I want to get a simple band."

"Just to keep him from bothering me again." She added as an afterthought, "Oh, and I’m going to take a photo of our marriage certificate, too. Next time he shows up, I’ll show it to him right to his face."

Maxwell sat there, staring at her, completely stunned.

Sunlight spilled into the room, sweeping away the dark, suffocating gloom that had been swirling inside him. He stared at her, disbelieving, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Seeing him frozen, Arianna assumed he was reluctant. She rushed to be considerate. "I was just asking. If you’re busy, it’s fine."

"I can go by myself."

"I have time," Maxwell said, leaning back into his chair. His posture relaxed, and a pleased, genuine warmth seeped into his voice. "Aside from work, my time is entirely reserved for Mrs. King."

"How could I not have time for that?"