"You look very pale, Cla. Are you sick? And that wound. How about we treat it first?" said Jayme, as soon as I got into his car.
As I said before, I was reluctant to argue with anyone about anything. If there was one person I would argue with until I lost and was unable to respond, it would be John. As for Jayme, I knew he was a good man, though a bit of a playboy. However, I could see the sincerity in his eyes.
I'd always admired this man. His sturdy build and sharp gaze always made women swoon. But since I met John and interacting with him for several months, for some reason my heart shifted easily.
Even though I'd always admired many men, my heart had always belonged to Blake, or sometimes Jayme—just a little. And John has made everything complicated. That old fart had managed to defeat me in the war against my own heart.
