Chapter 2 Handsome Boy

Aaron gazed at her, simply speechless at her choice of words.

He'd never met someone so full of herself.

"Irene, Jonny has left you," he said as slowly as he could, with hopes that these words could resonate in her mind. "But I...I can consider making you my girlfriend–"

Bang!

Before he could finish, Irene collapsed into his lap in a pale drunken mess.

Aaron scrunched his nose, looking at the half can of beer she was holding and his already drenched trousers, coated by her saliva. He found himself regretting not listening to Jackson.

He carried her carefully back to the car. Without warning, he opened the rear door and threw her in. In shock, Carl Cheng didn't have time to move, making Irene's head hit his vital part of the body. "Shit!" he cursed, wincing. "Do you want to kill me, man?"

Aaron snorted. "The least you can do is stay still. With how many women you were flirting with, it'd be better if that thing was cut off."

Carl smiled peevishly, pushing Irene's head away. "For a guy, you're pretty stiff. I'm simply comforting them, not flirting."

Aaron didn't bother to respond to his words. Instead, he turned to Jackson. "To the Caesar Hotel."

Before Jackson started the car, he stared at Aaron seriously. "I still hope you'll consider this. You can play with the woman, but if you're really serious with this...you'll be in trouble."

Carl added to this, "Shouldn't you be happy? If Aaron really loves the girl, then he isn't the cold-hearted idiot he seems to be. Even if he gets hurt in the end, isn't that better than being so unfeeling?"

Aaron turned away. "Just drive."

Jackson stared at Aaron before sighing and starting the car. They'd been friends for more than ten years, and even then, he knew that he'd done everything he could to convince him otherwise.

Aaron was different than most people. His face was always guarded, and what he wanted, he always seemed to get.

When they finally arrived at the Caesar Hotel, Aaron asked them to go back home before turning inside with Irene fast asleep in his arms.

"You think Aaron finally fell in love?" Carl was the first one to bring it up, jumping on his seat.

"The guy's a total wild card. Who knows?"

In the hotel,

Aaron carried Irene directly into the room. Once they arrived, he set her on the sofa and casted a stern glance at her state. He frowned.

"Is this really all worth it for just one man?" he murmured.

As if she heard him, she quickly sprung up from her seat.

Through her disheveled hair, she could see a face of a striking young man.

She blinked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Was she that hurt that all she was seeing was an imaginary man to fill the void in her heart?

Aaron was just as confused as she was. "Are you all right?" he questioned.

Irene licked her lips. He'd be a fine distraction.

She staggered up, walking towards him and swaying her hips as sexily as she could. She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to her face. "Hey, handsome," she purred. "What's your name?"

Aaron wrinkled his nose. He could smell alcohol on her!

"I...

I am available right now. If you need a woman, I can give you everything you want!"

Normally, Aaron would've slapped a woman outright for suggesting such a thing. However, this was Irene. She was different.

He tried to take Irene's hands off of him, but she was so strong that he couldn't get rid of her no matter how much he tried.

"Irene, let go of me!" he commanded to no avail.

"Why? You threw yourself at me, remember? Why should I let go? I've lost one duck. I'll never let another one go!"

"Duck?"

Aaron rolled his eyes exasperatedly. How drunk was she that she'd started to use another metaphor?

As he was in the process of shoving her away, she did the inevitable and threw up all over him!

It took a few seconds for him to process what was happening before he started to push her away.

Now that he recalled that very moment, he couldn't help but laugh at his own stupidity.

Irene, holding his hand, told him another story. "Honey," she started. "Do you know that dogs pee on the tree roots to let other dogs know that it's their territory?"

Aaron snorted. "What are you trying to say?"

Irene snickered. "You're the root!"

"Then I guess you're the dog." He smiled back.