Ethan Laurent was amused by her two words.
The word "friend" itself represents a boundary.
Ethan Laurent's lips curled up arrogantly.
He lounged lazily on the sofa, with one hand propping his forehead, his handsome face turned aside, and his tone was somewhat casual, "Back where?"
"Back to your room!" Summer Ford stood in front of him, wanting to pull him up. As soon as she reached out, Ethan Laurent seized her wrist and, with a slight pull, her body slumped into his embrace.
With an arm wrapped around her slender waist, Ethan Laurent's face turned slowly, his eyes lightly swept over her face, his lips parted gently, voice slow, "Is there a difference between my room and yours?"
"You signed yesterday!" Summer Ford lifted her face, reminding him coldly.
She wanted to tell him they were basically divorced now, only the proof of the divorce was gone.
