Half an hour later.
August Oliver's car stopped outside the hotel where Olivia Lewis was staying. After parking, he unbuckled the seatbelt for the person sleeping soundly in the passenger seat.
"Mmm..."
Olivia Lewis's face was flushed, and she frowned even in her sleep.
Just being near her, one could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her.
August reached out to tuck the strands of hair that had fallen onto her face behind her ear. Then, looking at her beautiful, rosy lips, his gaze lingered for a few seconds and deepened.
"Olivia Lewis..."
"Mmm." The drunk person frowned again and muttered softly, "Annan, more!"
His thin lips suddenly curved into a smile, his rebellious eyes full of amusement. Taking advantage of the sleeping person's oblivion, he quickly leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek.
It was really like a feather-light kiss.
A light touch that withdrew in a flash.