Chapter 727

Chapter 727:

Oh? Really? Hadley smirked but said nothing.

“Come on.” Eric huffed, taking her hand and leading her upstairs—straight into his bedroom.

Once inside, he turned to her with a smirk. “Hadley, help me change.”

She shot him a dry look. “The doctor said your wound has healed.”

“He said it’s closed up—not that it’s fully healed,” Eric corrected smoothly, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m still fragile. I shouldn’t move too much.” His grip tightened slightly, his voice dipping into something unmistakably playful. “I need you to take care of me.”

Hadley exhaled, unimpressed. “Stop clinging to me,” she muttered, trying to push him away. “Either stand properly or change yourself.”

“What’s the matter?” Eric wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily. “Are you blushing?”

His voice dipped into a teasing lilt. “Wait… don’t tell me you’re embarrassed because of my abs?”

“Eric!” she snapped, torn between frustration and sheer mortification. “Can you stop messing around for once?”

“How am I messing around?” he replied smoothly. “I’m just being an attentive boyfriend.”

Before she could wriggle free, he grabbed her hand and pressed it against his waist. “See? You’re blushing even more. Just admit it—you like my abs, don’t you?”

Hadley jerked her hand away. “Let go!”

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Eric grinned. “Not until you answer. Yes or no?”

Hadley rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. You’ve been lying in a hospital bed for days. Your muscles have probably turned to pudding. What’s there to like?”

“Excuse me?” His voice pitched slightly, the confidence cracking. “No way.” In full-blown panic, he poked at his abs, as if testing whether they had, in fact, turned to mush. “They’re fine. Not soft. Definitely not soft.”

Hadley seized the moment. “Change your own clothes! I’m out of here!”

“Hadley!” Eric lunged, but she was already gone.

She practically flew down the stairs, still grinning—until voices from the living room made her slow her steps.

“Locke, Mommy made you some snacks. Come eat, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to! You’re not my mommy!”

Despite his small stature, Locke spoke with the sharpness of a child who understood more than most gave him credit for.

“If you’re really my mom, then why didn’t you come with Dad to get me?”

Linda’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, a flicker of unease crossing her features. But she quickly masked it, smoothing out her expression with practiced charm.

“I wasn’t your mother before,” she cooed, her voice honeyed yet hollow. “But now I will be. Isn’t that nice?”

“Why?” Locke asked bluntly, his eyes narrowing with distrust. “You don’t even like me. I don’t want you to be my mom.”

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