When Love Is a Lie (Whitney and Damian) novel Chapter 63

Whitney hesitated, her steps faltering as she noticed Noel heading toward the elevator. He glanced her way briefly before continuing as if he hadn't noticed her at all. She could still hear his words from the night before—accusing her of lying.

Whitney ignored him and walked to the elevator, keeping a distance from Noel.

When the elevator arrived, Whitney thought of taking the next one but quickly dismissed the idea.

So, as Noel stepped in, she followed and faced the doors.

The elevator was small, the mirrored walls reflecting them both. Whitney focused on the changing floor numbers, refusing to let her gaze wander even slightly in his direction.

They both stepped out when the elevator arrived on the 16th floor, each heading in the same direction but treating each other like strangers. But just before reaching her door, Whitney stopped and turned back.

"I need to ask you something."

Noel paused, his finger hovering over his keypad. He waited silently.

Whitney hesitated, feeling a flush creep up her cheeks. "That night when I was sick, did you… Did you help me get undressed?”

Her words came out as a barely audible whisper.

Noel turned and looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "What?"

Annoyed, she repeated, "Did you help me get undressed?"

That half-buried memory had been nagging at her ever since it surfaced. The details of that night were hazy, but she remembered clearly that Noel had taken her home.

Whitney waited for his reply but none came. She looked up and met with his dark gaze.

"What do you think?" he replied smoothly. Noel leaned against the wall with a small smile. He was more playful than his usual stern self.

"So, it was you! Why would you do that? You took advantage of me!" Whitney raised her voice.

The apartment only had two units on one floor, so Whitney wasn't worried about being loud.

Her mind went blank. Scenes from that night returned to her memory.

She recalled Noel saying, "You want more? Are you a cat? Stop scratching!"

Whitney's face flushed red with embarrassment. She couldn't even face him. She tried to leave, but Noel placed a hand against the wall, blocking her escape.

She opened her mouth, ready to lash out, but the intensity of his gaze stopped her. He was staring right at her flushed, slightly parted lips, his face drawing nearer.

Whitney's hands balled into fists at her sides, her breath catching in her throat. The quiet hallway seemed to echo with her quickening heartbeat as he leaned in. He tilted his head, his lips about to brush hers.

At the last second, Whitney turned her head, feeling his warm lips graze her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat. She could still hear his heavy panting.

Whitney cleared her throat and ignored it.

"So, you were the one who took care of me that night and not Damian, right?"