chapter2214

Cecilia followed the stranger's finger and caught sight of Calvin's broad back as he lined up another shot at the coin-pusher machine. Panic fluttered through her, and she shook her head quickly. "No, no, we're just friends."

"Friends?" The girl's eyes lit up with hope. "Really?"

Cecilia nodded again. "Yes. That's all."

The stranger flashed a grin so dazzling it felt rehearsed for a mirror. "Thanks!" she said, then pivoted away before Cecilia could gather the right response.

Cecilia stood blinking at the retreating figure, utterly baffled. What on earth is she thanking me for?

Without wasting another heartbeat, the girl strode toward Calvin, determination stamped across her posture like a signature on fresh ink.

Her departure ignited a chain reaction. Other girls who had eavesdropped on the brief conversation turned, eyes sparkling with possibility, and began to edge toward Calvin as if drawn by an unseen current.

Only then did realization dawn on Cecilia. Watching fresh admirers circle Calvin, she finally pieced it together. Oh... they're all interested in him.

Calvin, already in his thirties, possessed a charisma that rivaled any television heartthrob; in fact, the faint ruggedness at the corners of his smile lent him a dignity most boy-band idols could only simulate.

Cecilia noticed a few girls asking for his contact information. She felt happy for him, and she silently wished he might meet someone special tonight.

Turning back to her own console, she shoved the thought aside and immersed herself in the rhythmic beeps of her game, refusing to glance back again.

Meanwhile, Calvin was frustrated.

The cluster of young women-each at least a decade his junior-hovered around him with starry eyes and nervous giggles. He was not the least bit interested in them, so he offered a courteous but firm decline.

A few took the hint, yet several remained rooted at his side, playing the adjacent machines while sneaking hopeful glances his way.

At last, Calvin abandoned the siege and made his way back to Cecilia. "What exactly did you tell them? They're camped at my elbow like I'm handing out autographs."

"They asked what we were to each other, and I said we're friends," Cecilia replied, still tapping buttons without missing a beat.

Calvin exhaled a long, theatrical sigh. "Are you trying to sabotage me?"

"Sabotage you?" Cecilia's brows knitted in innocent confusion. "Why would I ever do that?"

Calvin studied her expression and found himself temporarily speechless, unsure whether to laugh or scold.

"Listen―dating is the last thing on my mind. Those girls are clearly only interested in my face," he muttered, half to her, half to himself.

Cecilia couldn't help it; a quick, bright laugh slipped free. "At least you're honest about your own appeal."

Flashing neon rippled across

Calvin's sharp profile as he leaned into the coin-pusher machine, wrist flicking with a surgeon's precision. The latter of tumbling tokens sounded almost like applause around him. "Can't help it," he murmured, never looking up. "Being this good-looking is its own kind of trouble."

The moment he sat down, a half-moon of girls drifted over, giggling as they claimed the neighboring machines.

The hoppers had been nearly empty. Now, under so many frantic hands, tokens

crashed forward in glittering avalanches, coins spilling like silver rain.

Minutes earlier, the arcade owner had fretted over Calvin's winning streak and Cecilia's mountain of claw-machine prizes. Watching the tokens pour in, he exhaled. Maybe tonight wouldn't bleed him dry after all. shovels

"This is impossible," one girl whimpered, brow furrowed as her last coin slid uselessly inside. She cut hopeful glance toward Calvin, silently begging f?r rescue.

Calvin's gaze never shifted. Tokens kept sliding from his fingertips in rhythmic, ruthless efficiency.

Her shoulders slumped. Determined, she jammed the button again and again. Seconds later, her tray lay bare. Empty.

Without Calvin's tricks, her game tokens vanished faster than breath on glass.

She sighed, marched to the cashier, and paid for yet another stack-hope, apparently, costs money.

Cecilia nudged Calvin's elbow. "She's dropped a small fortune already. Maybe give her a hand?"

Calvin shot her a sidelong glare.

"You like charity, do it yourself," he said—loud enough for the girl to hear. "Help her and she'll cling to me. Hard pass."

Color flooded the girl's cheeks; humiliation shoved her to her feet, sending her hurrying toward the exit.

Cecilia watched the girl retreat and felt at a complete loss.

"Your voice was way too loud," she whispered, lowering her own to almost nothing.

Calvin shrugged. "Ceci, you're the one who told me this: if you don't like someone, don't hand them hope."