Roscoe Roscoe grasped Nicole's ankle gently, yet his touch was steady and did not interfere with his task.
Clad in disposable plastic gloves, Roscoe applied an ointment that brought a cooling relief and numbed the pain.
The sensation was so comforting that Nicole found her toes involuntarily curling, her pulse thudding audibly in her ears.
Roscoe's expression remained detached throughout the procedure.
Once he finished with the ointment, he discarded his gloves in the trash bin, along with the porridge Jarrod had brought, without
a second glance.
He exited briefly, returning with a thermos in hand, and proceeded to elevate the bed.
"Nicole, would you prefer to feed yourself, or shall I assist?" he inquired, his politeness unwavering.
Nicole, still somewhat dazed from the treatment, only registered his question when he repeated it.
She reached out slowly.
"I can manage on my own.” As her fingers brushed against his, Roscoe insisted, “Stay still.
I'll handle this.” Roscoe set up a small table, expertly transferred the porridge into a bowl, and fetched a spoon.
Nicole couldn't help but notice the pristine beauty of his hands, his nails short and clean, his veins subtly pronounced against his
clenched fists, signaling strength.
Her cheeks flushed with heat.
This wasn't the first time he had tended to her wounds.
As Roscoe handed her the spoon, Nicole's hunger surged, especially for the shrimp-corn porridge, her favored dish.
She began to eat with an earnest appetite.
After the meal, Roscoe cleaned up the table and returned the bed to its original position.
“You should rest now, Nicole.
I'll be here to look after you,” he offered.

But Nicole's head shook in denial.
"No, Roscoe." Roscoe's gaze was intense as he watched her silently.

Nicole turned her face away, not daring to look at him.
She said, "My father’s support for your education was one thing.
You don't owe me for the help you've given.
You see, anyone entangled with me lately seems to suffer.” Roscoe listened without a flicker of emotion across his face.
When Nicole paused, he voiced his thoughts, "Nicole, I was disheartened when you didn't recognize me before.” Nicole recalled

you love that man?” Her response came swift and sure. “No.” It was only at this moment that Nicole grasped the truth. Her

you're like a little brother. Though I hold no love for him, my bond with him is complex. You've turned out

Just as Nicole tried to turn her face away, Roscoe grabbed her arm gently.
He remained silent, gazing at her briefly.
Suddenly, Roscoe bowed his head, halting just before his thin lips met Nicole's.
With a soft grin and a whisper, Roscoe vowed, "Nicole, once I surpass that man, you will be mine.” Left alone, Nicole's mind
reeled.
What the hell? In her eyes, Roscoe was still a little boy.
But now, his words somewhat unsettled her.
On a Friday morning, Raegan got a message from Bryce, requesting her address to pick her up.
She sent her location to him.
She made her way downstairs after learning Bryce’s arrival.
A few paces from the door, she spotted a black off- road vehicle.

the passenger seat, beckoning her over with a curled finger. Raegan pulled open the door and climbed aboard. To her surprise, Eloise was seated in the back, her presence almost tangible with hostility. Eloise’s eyes narrowed at

air was thick with tension. Eloise harbored dislike toward Raegan, and Raegan disliked Eloise's presence. Raegan took a seat, pressing herself against the door, creating as much distance as possible from

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