Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 202

Her heart hammered in her chest. Vivian never in her wildest dreams imagined that Quennel, the man she idolized, would one day be kissing her.

Even the scent of alcohol on his breath was intoxicating to her.

“Stephanie, I knew you still cared about me. I knew you couldn't bear to leave me…”

But perhaps because he was so drunk, Quennel only managed a couple of kisses before he stopped, seeming to have fallen asleep again.

An indescribable sense of disappointment and emptiness washed over Vivian. She swallowed hard, realizing this was a golden opportunity, and boldly wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Quennel,” she whispered, “you have to make your own opportunities. I was about to leave, but you're the one who pulled me back.”

With that, Vivian pressed herself against him, her arms hooked around his waist, and began to kiss him.

“Quennel…”

Vivian mimicked Stephanie's tone of voice as she unbuttoned Quennel's shirt, her hands tracing over his chest, shamelessly teasing him.

Vivian adored him; he was the man of her dreams.

“I'm Stephanie…”

Quennel was lost in a drunken haze. He could feel a woman's lips on his neck and tried to force his eyes open.

But his eyelids were too heavy. He couldn't see a thing, only hearing the woman whispering in his ear, “Quennel…”

His mind was filled with the image of Stephanie kissing him. With a growl, he flipped the woman over, pinning her beneath him.

“I don't want to just be your friend anymore. I want to be your husband! Stephanie, I love you… I want you…”

…

The next day.

Quennel woke up with a splitting headache. He had drunk way too much last night and had passed out at the bar.

But now… how did he get home?

He rubbed his throbbing temples, and as he rolled over, he realized he was holding a naked woman in his arms.

A flicker of guilt crossed Vivian's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Still completely naked, she blushed and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

With a mix of coyness and timidity, she said, “You were drunk at the bar last night. I brought you home, and… you were the one who pulled me down…”

Quennel's brow furrowed. Was that really what happened?

He had blacked out and couldn't remember the details. Quennel felt a surge of annoyance, knowing Vivian was trouble. “If that's the case, why didn't you push me away?”

“I tried, but I couldn't…”

Vivian saw the dark look on Quennel's face, and her eyes reddened. “What's wrong? You slept with me, and now you're saying it's my fault?”

With that, Vivian covered her face, looking utterly wronged, and buried her head in the pillow, starting to sob.

Quennel's head throbbed. He knew who Vivian was, and considering her family's status, he knew this situation would require an explanation.