Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 207

Chapter 207 In the Mood for Something Sweet

That comment should've been no big deal, but it left me feeling a bit off. I could not quite figure out why, so I just smiled and let the conversation drop.

I was just trying to figure out if I should scramble for another conversation starter when Inch emerged from the bathroom. No one was with him, so I quickly asked, "Everything's okay with Idris, right?" Inch gave a nod. Before he could say anything, Idris appeared, looking as chill as ever with those sharp, clear eyes of his.

I could not help but go over and check on him. "You good?"

He gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze shifting to Charlie, who was sitting in his wheelchair. The two guys locked eyes-one towering over the other, and the other coolly looking up. It was like an epic standoff where neither would back down.

The vibe was kind of tense, so I bit my lip and reached to give Idris's sleeve a little tug. I was about to make introductions, but then it hit me-they probably knew of each other already. Plus, Idris and I were no longer a thing, so it felt weird trying to play the middleman.

As I was mulling it over, Charlie suddenly said, "Ms. Scott, your buddy's here, so we'll head out. Let's catch up some other time."

I nodded and shot Inch a look, and he gave me a reassuring smile before wheeling Charlie

away.

Idris watched them go, his brow creasing ever so slightly, something flickering across his face.

I had to ask. "Do you have beef with Mr. Yates?"

He looked back at me, his dark eyes steady. "Nope."

I was puzzled. "Then why..." Why the cold stares just now? He even said he would come with me to meet Charlie. How were we supposed to do that now without things getting awkward?

I sure hoped they would not end up throwing punches.

When I trailed off, Idris's lips quirked up in a half-smile. "It's just... his eyes. They remind me of something. And not in a good way."

Not in a good way? Idris rarely spoke badly of people he did not know well.

I scrunched my forehead, trying to figure out why Charlie's eyes seemed so familiar to me too, though I did not get a bad vibe from him like Idris did. I took a beat and noticed that we were drawing looks from people going in and out of the restroom-especially the ladies. They could not help but give Idris the once-over.

I guess it was his drop-dead gorgeous looks that did it.

Shaking off the distraction, I said, "It's late. We should head out."

He did not argue. He just gave me a nod and a sort of spaced-out, "Hmm."

He looked sober enough, but I had this nagging feeling he was a bit out of it.

We could not let him drive after drinking, so it was up to me to drop him off. Chapter 207 In the Mood for Something Sweet

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As we got into the car, I shot him a look. "Where are you sleeping these days?" Ever since the divorce, I had not kept tabs on him, so I was clueless about his current digs.

"Clearwater Residence," he mumbled, leaning back and massaging his forehead like he was tired to the bone.

I acknowledged with a grunt, fired up the engine, and we made a beeline for Clearwater Residence.

Lake City at night was something else—a dazzling display of lights nestled in the mountains and a bone-chilling breeze that could cut through you. Idris cracked the window and took in the cityscape, the lights zipping by.

The city was a mix of loud and quiet-some folks were chowing down on barbecue and chugging beers, laughing about life's ups and downs, while others were already deep in dreamland, snoring away.

As we zipped past the city's hot spots, with shops still buzzing with life, Idris caught sight of something and abruptly said, "Stop the car."

I hit the brakes, puzzled, and turned to him. "What's up?"

He glanced over at me, and under the fuzzy glow of the streetlights, his eyes seemed to blur. He only looked at me for a second before pointing to the still-open bakery on the corner and said, "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

I was taken aback. This guy never had a sweet tooth before. Maybe the booze had unsettled his stomach, and he needed a little something to soak it up. Now that I thought about it, he had barely touched his food at dinner, just nursing his drink. No wonder his stomach was probably doing somersaults.

With that in mind, I pulled over and parked. As he made to get out, I caught his arm. "Stay put. I'll go grab it."

Chapter 208 When He's Out of Line, I Step In

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