She removed her earphones and listened carefully.
There were indeed knocking sounds.
As she got up, she wound the earphones around her phone while walking towards the door.
The moment she opened the door, a strong scent of alcohol hit her in the face.
Frowning, she looked up and saw Hunter Warren leaning on the doorframe with his face flushed red.
His gaze fell on her with confusion: "How come you’re here?"
Seeing Hunter here obviously left Faye Townsend somewhat taken aback as well.
Recently, she had been running into Hunter quite frequently.
She stuffed her phone into the spacious pocket of her robe and looked at him.
Before she could speak, Hunter bluntly said, "What, Oliver Turner dumped you? So you’ve jumped into Henry’s bed?
Impressive, you really don’t lack skills."
Hunter reached out and pinched her chin: "You’re really passionate towards men."
Faye clenched her fist, a frown creasing her brow, and she swept his hand away.
"If you’re looking for Henry, you should call him.
He’s back at the military base, and right now I’m staying in this house.
So from now on, you don’t need to show up here anymore."
Hunter didn’t pay her any mind and squeezed directly into the house, looking around.
Faye followed with a frown: "Hunter Warren, do you realize you’re breaking and entering?"
"Breaking and entering? Hah, this is my best buddy’s home.
This house was bought with the money I helped him invest.
Hunter’s frame swayed slightly.
"Just so you know, I usually have the keys to this place; I just didn’t bring them today."
He said that and stumbled sideways, collapsing onto the couch.
Faye’s brow furrowed; he must have drunk a lot.
Hunter propped his elbow on the edge of the sofa and rubbed his forehead, obviously in discomfort.
"Now you see, I wasn’t lying, Henry really isn’t here, so can you leave now?"
Hunter turned his head towards Faye, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and resentment.
He stood up as if he intended to leave, but stumbled and collapsed back into the sofa due to drinking too much.
Faye’s heart tightened, and she reflexively reached out to support him.
But he was unappreciative.
Faye let out a heavy sigh, her eyes rolling up in resignation.
She didn’t say anything more to him but turned to the open-kitchen and made him a bowl of Hangover Soup.
By the time she brought the Hangover Soup to him, he had already fallen asleep, slumped on the couch.
Faye placed the Hangover Soup in front of him and crouched down silently, gazing at his sleeping face.
Unintentionally, a tear began to shimmer in her eyes.
Suddenly, Hunter retched twice.
Faye quickly extended a hand and placed the trash bin under his head, while her other hand patted his back.
He expelled the contents of his stomach, some of which even splattered onto the back of her hand, but she didn’t feel any disgust or aversion.
She was well aware that her reaction was due to residual attraction towards him.
But he was drunk now and knew nothing, so it didn’t matter. At this moment, she could let her guard down.
Anyway, by the time it gets light tomorrow, he will have forgotten everything, just like that night.
In addition to dirtying his own clothes, he had also soiled the sofa.
As he lay back down without any more signs of vomiting, Faye pulled out a tissue from the table to wipe her hands and also cleaned the filth from the corner of his mouth.
Thinking that he would be uncomfortable sleeping in such dirty clothes, she reached out to unbutton his clothes to take them off for washing.