She was stunned there, her gaze fixed on the tabletop, her mind running in circles.
What's there to feel sorry about?
He wasn't hurt, nor did he suffer any loss.
On the contrary, he always had the upper hand, so why should she be feeling sorry?
Seeing she didn't answer, he slightly raised the corner of his mouth and casually patted her on the head.
"Little mouse, why worry so much? The food is almost cold."
She suddenly lifted her head, her eyes glaring straight at him.
"Why do you always call me little mouse?!"
This name doesn't sound like a good nickname.
Every time he said it, Vivian Sinclair's mind uncontrollably popped up the image of a small dark mouse.
Its ears perked up, nose twitching, digging a hole in her heart with a squeak.
Tristan Sterling leaned back in his chair, tilted his head slightly and glanced at her.
"Dating while hiding like a thief, afraid to admit it, sneaky like a thief, if not a mouse, what are you?"
