That was new. Lethia's brows tried to knit together as her eyes narrowed at the absurd confession. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. Was Zeran saying she wasn't attractive enough to make him hard, or was it him who had the issue? She was confident—most likely the latter.
She finished the now lukewarm milk in a single gulp and stood up, walking toward Zeran.
But just as she passed by his sofa, intending to sit across from him, Zeran gripped her wrist. He pulled her in gently, guiding her straight into his lap.
That sudden landing sent her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
She had just felt a bit relieved, thinking Zeran's annoying behaviour had helped her rebuild the walls in her heart.
But now, their closeness was like fire licking at ice, melting every icy brick she'd managed to stack.
