Chapter 2 Spending The Night In Gaara's House

“No… I’m not…” Esther stammered, her thoughts still in disarray, her chest rising and falling as though she hadn’t yet escaped the storm of what had just happened. Her lips still burned from the reckless kiss Gaara had stolen, and the memory of it tangled her words. “I… I’m just a friend. From campus.”

Gaara, however, paid no attention to the brown-haired girl at the door. Without a word, he stepped past her and into the house, his hand still clasping Esther’s tightly, dragging her along in his wake.

“H–Hey! I have to go home,” Esther protested, tugging at her wrist in a futile attempt to free herself.

“WHAT? HOME?” the girl’s voice rose again, so loud it made Esther flinch. She blinked at her, startled, wondering if screaming was some sort of strange habit of hers.

“Yes… my house isn’t fa—”

“With clothes like that? In this weather? Do you want to catch pneumonia?” the girl snapped, cutting her off before she could even finish. She shook her head with a finality that brooked no argument. “No. Absolutely not. You’re staying here tonight.”

“Ha?” Esther blinked, dumbfounded, the single syllable slipping out before she could think.

Esther couldn’t begin to comprehend the way this girl’s mind worked. Only moments ago, she had looked at her with suspicion, brimming with hostility as though she despised Esther for even standing near Gaara. Hadn’t she been furious after witnessing that reckless kiss? And yet now, she was insisting Esther stay the night? The contradiction was dizzying.

Without waiting for a reply, the girl shut the door firmly, then turned back and slipped her hand around Gaara’s arm, tugging him away from Esther as though staking a claim. “You wait here for a while,” she said curtly, her tone clipped and authoritative. “I need to take care of Master Gaara first. I’ll bring you a towel later.”

Gaara, without protest, loosened his grip on Esther’s hand and allowed himself to be led upstairs. His tall figure followed obediently as she guided him toward the grand staircase. Its polished steps sweeping upward, no doubt leading to a private bedroom above.

Esther’s mouth opened in protest, but before she could summon the words, they were already gone, swallowed by the silence of the house. She stood frozen in place, her damp clothes clinging to her trembling body, her heart pounding far too loud in her chest.

Her hand drifted upward, almost without her realizing, fingertips brushing against her lips. They were swollen, tender, still tingling from the reckless heat of Gaara’s mouth. The memory of his kiss struck her all over again, and her face flamed red, the realization burning her like fire.

She had just lost her first kiss.

The thought made her stomach twist. Would this change everything? Would it haunt her in the days to come, shape her reputation, stain her social life? What would her father say if he knew his daughter had not only given away her first kiss so recklessly, but was now spending the night in another man’s house.

A man’s house?

A shiver ran through her. Esther wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering at the weight of it all. The storm outside still raged, but the storm inside her was far more unsettling.

“You can use this towel to dry yourself,” the feminine voice rang out again.

Esther looked up and saw the same girl from before, now holding out a towel toward her.

“Thank you,” Esther murmured, hesitating as she accepted it. “But actually… my house isn’t far. It’s just down the street. So I won’t be stayi—”

“No way!” the girl cut her off sharply, leaving no room for negotiation. “I’ve already called Ms. Amber. The moment I described you, she said you must spend the night here.”

“What?” Esther blinked, caught completely off guard. Amber Maxwell knows me?

She couldn’t recall ever meeting the world-renowned supermodel in person. Not once. But as the thought circled, a possibility tugged at her mind. Perhaps Amber knew of her through her father.

“Ms. Amber doesn’t take no for an answer,” the girl added, flashing Esther a grin that felt far too mischievous for the situation.

“By the way, my name’s Stella. I’m Master Gaara’s assistant while Ms. Amber is abroad,” she explained, extending her hand. Esther, though still reluctant, took it politely.

“Esther,” she replied softly.

Strangely, Stella didn’t seem half as fierce as she had at the front door. Now her gaze lingered, assessing Esther as though trying to unravel her, to weigh her worth.

“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Stella offered, already turning on her heel. Esther hesitated before following, her steps uncertain. Stella must have sensed it, because she glanced back over her shoulder.

“Looks like you’ll need a change of clothes, too.”

“That’s not necessary, I—”

“You can’t seriously think of sleeping in wet clothes. Or worse, nothing at all.” Stella gave a playful wink before Esther could finish. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

And with that, Stella quickened her pace, leading the way through the grand hallway toward the guest quarters. Esther trailed behind, her mind buzzing with thoughts that tangled and refused to settle.

Her first overnight stay in someone else’s house and of all places, it had to be Gaara’s.

How on earth had it come to this?