Chapter 405: Clara Whitmore Pressed Her Lips Together in Silence

"Others can change, but not for you."

Clara Whitmore pressed her lips together in silence.

The three stepped out of the restaurant and realized, to their surprise, they were all headed the same way.

Maya Torres pulled out her phone to call a ride.

A black executive sedan slowly pulled up to the curb.

The window rolled down, revealing Connor Hayes's striking profile. "Get in. I'll drive you."

Maya glanced at Clara.

Connor chuckled. "At this hour, you'll be number 216 in the queue."

Noah Kessler nodded silently.

Maya checked her phone and gasped—216 people ahead of them.

Clara opened the backseat door. "Thank you, Mr. Hayes."

"No trouble at all, Clara."

* * *

The GPS indicated Clara's home would be the first stop.

But Connor missed the right turn and had to continue straight.

After recalculating the route, Clara ended up being the last one dropped off.

The car stopped at the entrance of the old alley.

Connor circled to the passenger side and opened the door with gentlemanly grace. "Watch your step."

Clara stood firm. "Thanks."

"For what? Opening the door or buying the equipment?"

"Both."

"Not inviting me up for tea?"

Clara narrowed her eyes.

"Just joking. Don’t think of me as a bad guy."

"Are you?"

Connor laughed softly. "Not now. But I want to be—just don’t dare."

"I don’t understand."

"Maybe it’s better that way."

Some attractions defy all logic.

Like that day at Ashford University’s gates—Grant Holloway wasn’t the only one struck by her.

So was he.

Oh, and Damian Prescott too.

Grant moved fastest, Damian close behind.

But hesitation cost him his chance.

By the next update, she was already Grant’s girlfriend.

He never imagined Grant would take it seriously.

Nor that he’d succeed.

That’s when it hit him—some opportunities vanish forever.

Yet he clung to hope.

Because he knew Grant’s true nature.

All he needed was patience...

Wait for their breakup, for her heart to shatter completely...

Fortunately, his wait paid off.

"If I can’t come up for tea, at least grant me a goodnight?"

"Goodnight, Mr. Hayes."

"Drop the title."

"...Goodnight."

"Good girl."

Suddenly, he reached out and ruffled her hair.

By the time Clara processed it, the man was already walking away, his silhouette fading into the night.