No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 267

Oh my, I forgot that man!

But I didn't feel guilty, not one bit. I went straight into denial mode, "I didn’t harass him. It's all a big misunderstanding."

"Hmm?"

Ernest's gaze was fixed on me, his eyes practically demanding a clearer explanation.

So, I spilled the beans about accidentally bumping into Jimmy and his baseless accusations, and added, "That kid's just full of himself. I'm not interested in the slightest."

"What's your type then? The older gentleman? Or someone more mature and stable?" Ernest didn't mince words, and seemed pretty informed too.

Seeing his earnest expression, I couldn't resist the urge to tease him. I leaned closer and whispered, "I like your type... rough and tough."

As the words left my mouth, I caught Ernest swallowing hard.

I had flirted with him again.

The next second, I pulled back, only to hear Ernest's low voice ask, "How would you know I'm tough?"

I was speechless. My face turned beet red in a matter of seconds.

I had thought Ernest was the pure type, but that comment just proved he was all man.

"Why's your face so red?" And there he was, asking me that.

This guy wasn't an easy one to deal with, hitting back at my flirtation like that.

Just as I was pondering over this, he asked, "Have you been drinking?"

"No!"

Right after my denial, he commanded, "Pull over!"

"Why?" Even though I questioned him, I obediently steered the car to the side.

No sooner had the car stopped than I felt Ernest closing in, turning my face towards him, and leaning in.

My eyes went wide, instinctively thinking he was about to kiss me.

He didn't know? Or was he playing dumb?

After what he had just said... I didn't buy his act of innocence for a second, so I went ahead, no holds barred, "You asked how I knew you were tough?"

Ernest stiffened, then swallowed hard twice in quick succession, "What I meant by tough was..."

He trailed off, the red spreading from his ears.

It seemed he only then realized how I had interpreted 'tough'.

Seeing his flustered state convinced me; he hadn't been talking about the kind of 'tough' I was thinking of.

Now it was my turn to feel awkward, like I could dig a hole right there and find myself in a three-bedroom apartment out of sheer embarrassment.

But I decided not to dwell on my embarrassment, shifting it back to him by daringly asking, "What kind of tough were you referring to?"

Ernest straightened up, adjusting his collar, "Drive!"