"Junior President Payne, you're standing too close." Cressida Jones's heartbeat was heavy
as if she couldn't breathe.
She reached out, intending to push him away, but the moment her fingers touched his chest, he grabbed them, "You didn't call me that night."
"Brother Payne." Cressida Jones wanted to escape quickly and naturally complied.
"So, what type of person do you actually like?"
"I..."
"Think carefully before you answer."
His gaze was direct and eager, staring at her intently; beneath the calmness of his eyes, there seemed to be a turbulent undertow.
Cressida Jones intended to brush him off casually, but his gaze made her heart flutter, and she couldn't articulate an explanation, so she just gritted her teeth and asked: "What does my preference in type have to do with you?"
After all, he didn't like her.
This remark made Tim Payne feel discontent.
Just as Finn Hale had said, he was just a stubborn ducks that refused to admit defeat.
