The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 978

Honestly, he hadn't felt some profound sense of masculine pride or joy; he just felt like he'd stepped on a landmine.

Taking a woman's virginity usually carried a massive amount of unsaid pressure and responsibility.

But Katrina had immediately shut that down. "Relax, I'm not going to force you to commit. I didn't save myself because I'm a prude; I just never found a guy worth the effort. I definitely didn't want my first time to be a massive disappointment."

Naylor remembered exactly how she looked when she said it—so effortlessly cool and detached.

He had suspected she was faking it, but looking at her now, she clearly wasn't.

This infuriating woman was perfectly capable of pulling the plug while they were still completely obsessed with each other. No warning, no hesitation—just walking away like it meant nothing!

Naylor's mood plummeted to rock bottom.

He had dated countless women, and none of them had ever dumped him this abruptly, without even a screaming match.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. His phone buzzed.

His immediate thought was that she had cracked. She was calling to beg for forgiveness and take it all back.

But when he glanced at the screen, it was just the usual group chat of trust-fund brats and party boys.

"Yo..."

"Naylor, heard you were back in town. Get your ass over to The Black Pearl Tavern! It's Kane's birthday. The place is packed with gorgeous people!"

"Not tonight. I'm dead tired. Have a good one," Naylor snapped, instantly rejecting the offer.

The guy on the other end laughed knowingly. "Who are you kidding? You're the guy who parties until 3 AM without breaking a sweat, and you're tired at this hour? Let me guess, gotta go play house with the girlfriend? Oh, come on, bring her with you! We've all been dying to meet her."

Naylor's chest tightened painfully, especially at the stark reminder that Katrina had just decisively ended things. A sudden, violent surge of rage tore through him.

"Fine. I'll be there in thirty. Line up the shots. If I'm coming out, I'm drinking at least two of you under the table!"

[I packed up all your things. I'll have a courier drop them off tomorrow.]

She stared at the screen for a long time, her heart pounding with a sickening mix of dread and desperate hope for a reply.

But she waited until her eyes burned and exhaustion finally dragged her into an uneasy sleep. Her phone remained dark.

Because Naylor was blackout drunk.

The entire group was trashed. The guys who lived close by called for rides, while the rest just booked rooms at the hotel above the bar.

Naylor was part of the latter group. His friends hauled his dead weight up the elevator, dumped him onto a king-sized bed, left the most sober guy in the group to keep an eye on him, and stumbled off to their own rooms.

As his back hit the mattress, Naylor's alcohol-soaked brain short-circuited.

Seeing him thrashing wildly, trying to sit up, his friend rushed over. "Boss, where do you think you're going?"