The Unwilling CEO's Love Game novel Chapter 101

Miles from the hotel, the flashing lights of an ambulance caught their eyes, signaling some sort of emergency at the entrance.

"Don't bother walking me up," said Jocelyn, clutching the cash envelope. "I'll take this as a token of your appreciation."

"Sure." Harrison was not keen on adding to the commotion ahead. "I'll rest easy knowing you've accepted it."

Jocelyn chuckled. "Worried I won't take this seriously?"

"A bit," Harrison confessed, the honesty in his voice unmistakable. "But this time, please, be serious."

She nodded emphatically. "Yes, serious."

His laugh crinkled his eyes into gleeful crescents, his gaze pure and innocent, like a child reveling in a spoonful of sugar.

"I should get going." Jocelyn unbuckled her seat belt.

Harrison nodded, his eyes lingering on her, filled with a silent plea for her to stay.

As she pushed the car door open, Harrison's voice halted her.

She turned back.

Harrison's lips parted slightly, his eyes fixed on hers, a new intensity flickering within.

Jocelyn instantly understood his unspoken desire. What would a relationship be without a kiss?

But suddenly, she felt a twinge of nervousness, an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach.

"It's okay." Harrison's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Goodnight."

Her tension eased as she said softly, "Goodnight."

Exiting the car, Harrison gripped the steering wheel, watching her until she disappeared into the hotel before he finally exhaled and drove off.

Inside the lobby, Jocelyn's hand flew to her chest, her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged bird. She sank into a couch, trying to steady her breath.

The elevator dinged, and paramedics emerged, wheeling someone out on a stretcher.

Jocelyn glanced up just long enough to recognize the patient - Melvin.

Surprised, she watched until they left and approached the front desk to inquire about the situation.

The staff explained a guest had suffered a sudden illness, and they were trying to reach his family.

Jocelyn knew Melvin hardly had any family in town. Even if they contacted his sister, Preston, or Willow, none would make it in time.

"I know him," Jocelyn offered. "I'll notify his family."

Grateful, the staff quickly arranged her transportation to the hospital.

At the hospital, Jocelyn was notified that Melvin had already been rushed into surgery for acute appendicitis.

Pacing the hall, she was a bundle of nerves, half an hour feeling like an eternity until the doctor finally appeared.

Melvin was wheeled out, still unconscious from anesthesia.

After settling the bill, Jocelyn sat vigil in his ward.

Looking at the man’s pale face, she felt indescribably uneasy, as if something was stuck in her chest.

She could not fathom why he had come to Berry City; without her, he would have faced surgery with no one by his side.

Given his stoic facade, a heartless man like him probably would not dread such solitude.

After all, Melvin had already decided to be by himself forever.

Sitting in the sterile room, memories of their tumultuous past – his dominance, intensity, and irrationality – now seemed trivial.

Here he was, vulnerable, unable to fend off even a slap.

...

An hour later, Melvin's eyelids fluttered.

Melvin's chest was pounding with a fury that made it impossible to tell if it was his heartache or his wound that was causing the pain. His lips were ashen, and his eyes—usually as soft and inviting as cherry blossoms—were now like daggers, laced with venom as they fixated on Jocelyn. "Are you really that clueless, or are you just playing dumb?"

"I’m clueless," Jocelyn glanced at her watch, her tone nonchalant. "You should rest. The nurse will be here soon. I've got to go."

"Jocelyn!" Agitated, Melvin burst into a coughing fit.

Seeing him nearly cough himself to death, Jocelyn could not bring herself to leave him like that.

She summoned the doctor, who firmly advised against any form of agitation. He had just been through surgery and was still weak.

Jocelyn took a deep breath. She had not been the one to aggravate him; he was doing it to himself.

Heeding the hospital's caution, Jocelyn stood by the doorway, keeping her distance.

She had indeed meddled more than necessary. Why try to prove her magnanimity? Now she was stuck with a hot potato and unable to drop it and feeling the burn.

Melvin lay in his bed, his gaze never straying from her.

Jocelyn leaned against the wall, arms crossed, silent.

She suspected Melvin had some psychological issues—a possessiveness bordering on the pathological. It seemed he could not bear her being with anyone else, even if they were not together.

It was utterly selfish.

He had been all lovey-dovey with Willow, and now here he was, trying to play the devoted lover to her.

Did he want to be a double-timer?

"Come here," Melvin called out to her.

Jocelyn did not budge.

Melvin's eyes bore into her. "I'm already compromising," he said.

He implied it was time for her to take the hint and accept it gracefully.