Maeve fell silent for a moment.
Then she pressed the back of her cold hand against Julian Fairchild's forehead, sounding puzzled, "No fever, so why are you spouting nonsense?"
Nobody knew Julian Fairchild's cleanliness obsession like she did.
Yet he naturally said with his deep, mellow voice, "We've already kissed, what are you shy about?"
Nina Quinn's eyes widened!
What is going on? The always untouchable Best Actor Fairchild, as sacred as an alpine flower, is speaking to Maeve in such an ambiguous tone!
Did she discover some secret…
Maeve was also taken aback.
In her memory, it seemed she had said something similar.
She felt a bit dazed, Julian Fairchild's profile appeared youthful and indifferent before her eyes.
Gradually, it overlapped with the him from long ago.
...
The weather had already turned cold.
