My Married Roommate Asked Me to Give Her a Baby

In Hannah's common sense, a man wearing beach shorts should at least have something underneath.

But Evan closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and pulled the bright beach shorts down enough for the wound to show.

Hannah froze.

This boy had gone completely empty underneath.

She sucked in a breath and forced the scream in her throat back down. Her beautiful face turned red in an instant.

The reason she had insisted on checking was that she had been worried all along.

She feared Evan might have injured a more serious place and, out of male pride, insisted it was only his inner thigh.

Her husband Rowan was already useless in that area, and that fact had tortured her for years. If Evan's future also got damaged under her eyes, how could she face Jack?

The Carter family was a single line.

Hannah forced down her pounding heart and gathered courage to look closer.

The soft inner thigh really had been cut by the crab's claw and was seeping blood.

"I have bandages in the car. I'll handle it."

Hannah leaned forward, opened the glove box, and found a small box of adhesive bandages.

Now that things had reached this point, Evan was the one feeling awkward.

"Hannah, I can do it myself."

Hannah rolled her eyes and ignored him.

She opened the package, leaned closer, and carefully covered the wound.

When Evan hurriedly pulled his shorts back up, Hannah's eyes still could not help stealing two glances.

Yesterday through the frosted glass, she had already felt his outline was astonishing.

Today, at such a close distance, her guess was completely confirmed.

This boy was truly gifted.

The two sat in the dim car for several minutes without speaking.

The atmosphere was too warm, too strange.

Finally, Hannah cleared her throat.

"Let's go back. I still have work tomorrow."

"Mm. Okay."

Evan obediently returned to the passenger seat, and Hannah started the car.

On the road back, the cabin was strangely quiet.

Then Hannah suddenly said, "You little brat... you have quite a lot of capital."

"Whoever marries you in the future is going to enjoy good fortune."

Evan understood the meaning.

After all, he was no longer an ignorant beginner. He had already crossed the line with real experience.

He scratched his head awkwardly.

"Heh. It's all right."

For some reason, a fatal question jumped out of his mouth.

"Hannah, compared with Rowan, who's stronger?"

The moment those words came out, Hannah coughed violently.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, swallowed, and squeezed out a few words in a voice as thin as thread.

"Nonsense... of course you."

Hearing that answer, Evan's heart nearly flew.

For the rest of the drive, Hannah's mind was a mess. She drove absentmindedly and braked too hard several times.

When they finally got home, Hannah did not even greet him. She kicked off her shoes, fled into the bedroom, locked the door, and went straight to bed.

Lying on the soft bed, the image of Evan's outrageous advantage haunted her mind like a dream she could not shake.

After she finally fell asleep, she had an unbearably vivid dream.

In the dream, the door opened, and a tall man came in. He held her close with heat and strength, not cruel, but overwhelming, leaving her no room to pretend she did not want him. The bed dipped beneath them, her body softened, and every sensible thought scattered under the pressure of his breath, his weight, and the hunger she was too ashamed to admit.

When she woke suddenly, she realized it had only been an absurd spring dream.

The man's face in the dream had not been clear.

But that powerful body, that crushing masculine presence, could only have been Evan.

Hannah took a wet tissue and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her chest still rose and fell sharply.

"Hannah Snow, what is wrong with you?"

"How can you have shameless thoughts about Evan? You're a married woman."

She cursed herself fiercely in her heart and swore she must keep distance from Evan from now on.

If this continued, she would fall completely.

But life often moved in the opposite direction of vows.

Elsewhere, inside a smoky underground gambling room, Wayne sat with red eyes, staring at his last few chips. His brows were twisted into knots.

The table was playing three-card brag.

This round had already gone two blind bets.

Five people were at the table. Three had looked at their cards and folded. Only Wayne and a bearded middle-aged man remained.

Neither had looked.

Both kept adding money.

Wayne felt weak inside.

His chips were almost gone. To be safe, he decided to look at his cards.

According to the rules, once he looked, his calls had to double. But playing steady was better than giving money away.

He peeled up the corner of his cards and glanced.

Joy exploded in his heart.

But he forced the smile down.

In his hand were eight, nine, and ten of spades.

A straight flush.

Aside from extremely rare triples or a higher straight flush, this was a monster hand.

Wayne counted the last hundred dollars in chips before him.

The bearded man had just put in ten blind. Since Wayne had looked, he needed to call twenty.

The bearded man still did not look, casually throwing in ten.

Wayne gritted his teeth and called twenty.

They pulled back and forth several more rounds until Wayne had only twenty dollars left.

"Last twenty. Showdown."

Wayne slammed the final chips onto the table and reached for the man's cards.

Since they were comparing, he also slapped his own cards down proudly.

"Spade straight flush."

The bearded man did not even look at him. He flipped his three cards casually.

Jack, queen, king of diamonds.

Also a straight flush.

Higher.

The bearded man held a cigarette in his mouth and calmly pulled the mountain of chips toward himself.

Wayne's legs went soft. He collapsed into the chair like mud, face gray.

That was the hard-earned money his father had made selling corn under the sun, coin by coin.

In one night, he had lost it clean.

Wayne sat dazed for a long time before he finally recovered enough to stand and leave.

As he walked out of the smoky basement, his legs still shook.

Outside, the cool wind hit him. He lit a cigarette, took one hard drag, then raised his hand and slapped himself across the face.

"Damn it. I'm never gambling again."

"If I gamble again, I'm a dog."

But a gambler's poisonous oath was like a fart.

Not even the gambler believed it.

With pockets cleaner than his face and not even enough money for a taxi, Wayne walked three whole kilometers back to school.

By the time he dragged his exhausted body into the dorm, dawn was near.

The next morning, in the professional course classroom, Wendy had bought breakfast for Evan as usual and placed it on his desk.

But Wayne's seat was empty.

Evan called him several times.

The phone rang, but nobody answered.

He turned to ask a boy from Wayne's dorm.

The boy yawned.

"That fat bastard came back very late last night. Almost dawn. He fell into bed without even washing his face. Probably still asleep."

Evan understood immediately.

He had definitely gone gambling again.

And he had definitely lost everything.

If he had won, with Wayne's personality, he would already be here treating people and bragging.

He would not be lying in bed pretending to be dead.

"Fine. After class, I'll go check on that unlucky idiot."

Author's Note:

This story will continue updating here.

If you want to read more, you can unlock it here:

/c/TYMercer

Thank you for reading.