No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 175

I could feel Ernest shudder under my touch, clearly taken aback by my sudden kiss. But in the next moment, his strong hands were clasping my waist tightly. As I pulled away from his lips, I smiled cheekily at him, "Consider that a reward for being such a brave boy getting your shot."

The words had barely left my mouth when I was reminded of how Conrad dreaded needles. He despised them, much like a child dreads the boogeyman, to the point of suffering through illness rather than facing the needle's pinch.

I used to cajole him endlessly, treating him as though he were a frightened toddler, even covering his eyes during the ordeal and letting him bite down on my arm to distract from the pain.

So, whenever Conrad was through with his shots, I'd breathe a sigh of relief as if I'd accomplished a mission. He'd then demand a reward—a dance, a song, or some trinket as his prize.

Anyway, the moment Conrad has to get a shot for being sick, he morphs into a big baby.

A really bothersome big baby, if you ask me.

But today, Ernest was all chill and bold, didn't need my nudging or even me eyeballing as the needle jabbed in.

He suggested I take a walk instead, worried I'd be bored.

The stark contrast made me realize how Conrad never really saw me as a girlfriend but more like a maid.

Ernest's grip tightened around my waist as he playfully suggested, "Seems like I'll have to get sick more often."

I was at a loss for words, understanding his implication but choosing not to respond as we prepared to leave.

Then Conrad's voice cut through, "Felicia, you feel better now, right? We're even."

"Yeah, what else could it be? We're just pretending, after all," I replied, forcing a laugh that felt more hollow than humorous.

Ernest's grip tightened. "You're quite the actress."

"It was the only way to make him believe," I admitted, truthfully.

That kiss was supposed to kill off any last hopes Conrad had, but it kinda blew up in my face, messed things up with Ernest - the one thing I was trying to dodge.

But I couldn't let Ernest harbor any illusions. He was a good man, and I couldn't mislead him. So, I gently pushed against his chest, "Don't take it to heart."

Ernest's expression darkened, a mixture of emotions I couldn't bear to fully witness. He didn't let go, and as I struggled for breath in the confined space between us, he asked in a low voice, "Would you have kissed anyone else in my place, just to make a point?"