They stopped beside Morrison’s car, and Lilian blinked at it in surprise.
Morrison leaned lazily against the car, idly twirling the key ring around his finger. His tone was full of mock grievance.
"It’s my assistant’s. You were the one who said I should drive something low-profile, remember?"
He actually listened to her? Just like that? Did whatever she said? She couldn’t help but be a little skeptical.
Morrison glanced sideways at her, then bent down slightly, lowering his voice as he leaned in close.
"Your boyfriend’s being so obedient. Don’t you think that deserves a reward? Maybe if you reward me now, I’ll be more motivated to keep following orders."
His smile was pure mischief.
Lilian instantly understood what he meant, her mind flashing back to their previous kisses.
He was asking for one.
Without a word, she bolted to the other side of the car, opened the passenger door, and slipped in like her life depended on it.
"You’re so obsessed with kissing. What’s so exciting about doing it all the time, anyway?"
She muttered this as she settled into the seat and closed the door behind her.
Morrison, watching her flee like a startled rabbit, slipped his hands into his pockets and chuckled under his breath.
She acted like he was desperate or something—wasn’t this just normal behavior for a couple?
Still, there was one thing that made him a little pleased. At least this time, she understood what he was hinting at without needing a dictionary.
Morrison drove Lilian home, and when the car finally pulled up outside her building, she hesitated for a moment before speaking up.
"Mr. Morrison," she began carefully, "for the next two weeks... I think we should stop seeing each other for a bit. I’ve got to prepare for my final thesis defense, and I’m afraid all these dates are starting to distract me..."
The thesis defense was a huge deal—fail it, and you don’t graduate. And after four grueling years, Lilian wasn’t about to let it all go to waste. She needed to focus.
Morrison? Not thrilled.
His eyes narrowed at her words. "You sure about that?"
He’d never had a woman say something like that to him before. Most of them wanted more time with him, not less. They clung to him like ivy on stone, always looking for one more hour, one more day.
And here she was, telling him not to come around?
Lilian, completely unaware of the fire she’d just lit, nodded with full sincerity. "Mm. I really need to focus. This means everything to me."
Morrison’s temper flared instantly. His pride, his ego—it all went up in flames.
"Fine," he said coldly, letting out a sharp snort. "Then we won’t see each other."
Goddamn it, he was pissed. fre\e(w)ebn ov.e l\. co.m
But the girl—bright-eyed and completely unfazed—just blinked her big, innocent eyes at him and asked sweetly,
"Mr. Morrison, are you... mad at me?"
Morrison let out a low chuckle, sharp and cold.
"Why would I be mad? Not seeing each other works just fine for me. Saves me the time and effort of teaching someone how to date properly."
The words came out in a huff of frustration, more about wounded pride than actual anger. He was irritated, sure—but deeper than that, the sting came from bruised ego. Still, once they were out, he felt a twinge of guilt. That had come off harsher than intended.
But the girl just smiled—actually smiled—and said, "Great! As long as you’re not mad, then I’ll get going. Bye-bye!"
And with that, she turned and hopped out of the car.
Morrison choked on his own breath. Literally.
He almost coughed up a lung.
She wasn’t even fazed. Didn’t try to coax him. Didn’t apologize or hesitate. Just... left. Cheerfully.
Lilian had bent down, hand raised to wave him off, but all she got was a gust of wind and tail lights. She blinked, confused, then sighed.
Didn’t he just say he wasn’t mad? That sure looked like a very angry getaway...
Still, she didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about it right now. Her graduation was more important than one man’s mood.
Back home, freshly showered and curled up in bed, her phone buzzed. One of the girls from her dorm—one of the few she actually got along with—had messaged her.
"Lilian, be honest... do you have a boyfriend now?"
Apparently Angela had returned to the dorm tonight and gone on a full-blown rant, trashing her and her "boyfriend" all evening.
"She said she expected you, with your family background, to date someone on the same level—but he only drives a car worth, like, twenty grand? And apparently he’s rude, aggressive, no class at all, and insulted her in front of everyone."
Lilian stared at the message, absolutely dumbfounded. Thunderstruck, really.
First of all... how the hell did Angela know what kind of car Morrison drove tonight?
There was only one explanation: the woman had followed them after they left the cafeteria. Probably had someone tail them. But the joke was on her—Morrison hadn’t even driven his own car tonight. That little sedan? It was his assistant’s.
Lilian could only shake her head.
Angela really had too much time on her hands.
Some people were just like that—so eager to jump to conclusions, they couldn’t wait to smear someone’s name, even before figuring out the truth. And in the end, they only managed to make fools of themselves and slap their own faces with their recklessness.
As for the awful things Angela had said about Morrison... Lilian could only scoff. If Angela had kept her mouth shut and not acted like a bitter shrew, would Morrison have even bothered to insult her?
She felt a sudden surge of anger bubbling in her chest.
Which was strange. Angela had targeted her plenty of times before, and she’d never gotten this mad. But now that Angela had dragged Morrison into it, she found herself genuinely upset.
Later, she figured it might be because Morrison had been dragged into this mess because of her.
He’d only gotten involved because of her presence—and now she was the reason someone was slandering him. That realization made her feel both guilty and annoyed.
In the past, she would’ve just ignored the gossip and let people think whatever they wanted. But this time, she broke her own rule and actually explained the situation to her roommate—and even defended Morrison.
"You all know what Angela’s usually like with me. Tonight, she was being especially nasty in front of my boyfriend. He spoke up for me—how is that not justified?"
Her roommate nodded. She knew exactly what kind of person Angela was. Once Lilian gave her side of the story, she didn’t need any more convincing. Instead, her curiosity quickly pivoted back to Lilian’s boyfriend.
Now that she’d admitted to dating someone, it was open season for gossip. And Lilian couldn’t blame her—college girls were like that. No one could resist a bit of boyfriend talk.
Still, Lilian decided to keep Morrison’s true identity under wraps for now. Angela was unstable enough as it was. If she found out who Morrison really was, there was no telling how she’d react.
They were so close to graduation. The last thing Lilian wanted was unnecessary drama.
So she smiled and gave the safest, vaguest answer she could think of.
"He’s just a regular guy. Works as an assistant to a lord at some company."
Since Morrison had said the car belonged to his assistant, it wasn’t hard for her to flip the roles and claim he was the assistant.
After she said it, she even stuck her tongue out at herself.
If he finds out I called him an assistant, he’s going to kill me...
Her roommate, of course, dove straight into gossip mode, asking all kinds of questions—how far things had gone, when they started dating, whether he was cute—and Lilian answered honestly. Eventually, her roommate suggested they all go out for a meal together sometime.
"You know," she said, "bring your boyfriend along. That’s the classic way to make things official—have him treat your friends and dormmates to dinner."
Lilian agreed without hesitation. It was the standard college thing to do when you wanted to make your relationship public.
And just like that, the next two weeks passed without her seeing or even texting Morrison.