Chapter 3The Jock, The Catfish, and My Bed

I changed back into my clothes in the bathroom and took a deep breath. Almost suffocated.

When I came out, Sarah was checking the price of the dress online.

"Damn, your 'hubby' is rich. This dress is over two grand."

"What?" I was shocked. "This thing?"

Suddenly the dress seemed less average.

I planned to sell it later, but now I was worried about legal issues if we broke up badly. I packed it back into the box.

Tag still on. If things go south, I'll mail it back to him. Avoid exposing my identity during a dispute.

I sent the edited photos to Ethan.

He was probably busy and didn't reply immediately.

Sarah and I went to the food court for corn dogs. My phone vibrated.

Sarah peeked. "Wifey is so beautiful... Ew~ I can't imagine the department heartthrob saying that. Luca, make him send a voice note."

Me: "..."

I hmphed but complied.

[Annie: Want to hear Hubby's voice. So sexy, listen to it 300 times on loop~]

My flirting skills are top tier. No wonder I caught him. Hehe.

He replied quickly with a voice note: "Wifey looks very good."

Five words, slightly cold. But Ethan's voice is magnetic. Better than the ASMR Sarah listens to.

She had stars in her eyes. "Oh my god, he called you wifey. So smooth. Sweeter than a caramel latte."

Speaking of smells...

"Smells like stinky tofu," I said.

We bought some.

We finished eating and parted ways. Sarah actually attends the neighboring uni.

Ethan is famous. Even people at her school know him.

Many girls come to our games just to see him.

His teammates were devastated when he got injured; they lost their female audience.

Back in the dorm, Ethan was there. Isn't he local?

Why not go home to recover instead of being an eyesore here? Annoying!

I only dared to roast him internally.

He messaged me asking to bring food. I obediently took the long way to buy his favorite meal.

I put the food on his desk. "Here. Ninety-five."

Ethan's gaze swept over my hand subtly. He picked up his phone. "Thanks. Sent."

I checked. He sent a hundred. He always rounds up.

I'll just keep the change. Not my loss.