The agitated Summer Lowell grabbed a cushion beside her and hurled it at Maxim Sinclair: "You shameless man!"
"Heh." Maxim raised his hand to catch the cushion, got out of bed, and took one step after another towards Summer. "What? Are you getting angry out of embarrassment?"
"Hmph," Summer sneered, looking scornfully at Maxim as he approached. "I just admire you, The Great President Sinclair of the local scene, no one dares to provoke you, you're quite skilled at playing tricks."
As soon as she finished speaking, Maxim was already in front of her.
"Don't move," Maxim placed his left hand on her shoulder and gently lifted her chin with the other. "Let me see you all flustered like this, it's really amusing!"
Having been at it for half the night, Summer sharply sensed that Maxim's reaction was off, and instinctively, she wanted to run.
Unfortunately, Maxim was quicker, encircling her waist before she could act. "We haven't finished talking yet, why are you in such a hurry?"
