Jenna Roland stared at Ethan Roscente's sleeping face, then violently shook her head.

She needed to crush this ridiculous thought immediately.

What if he never meant anything by it? She'd just be making a fool of herself.

Taking a deep breath, she carefully lifted the blanket.

She grabbed the sweater from the foot of the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

The faucet was running when the sizzle of frying eggs came from the kitchen.

Sunlight stabbed Ethan's eyelids awake. The other side of the bed lay empty.

He stared at the ceiling, ears suddenly burning.

Did that girl misunderstand something?

Then again—

If she truly hated him, she would've smacked him with a pillow last night.

Since she didn't...

Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed as his thumb absently stroked the quilt corner.

"Knock knock."

Jenna's voice came through the door. "Breakfast is ready."

Ethan sprang up like a fish, nearly tripping over his slippers.

"I sleepwalk," he blurted with a straight face.

Jenna tilted her head, blinking those long lashes twice.

The king-sized bed versus the narrow floor bedding—

Even a toddler wouldn't buy that pathetic excuse.

"Got it." She turned away, suppressing a laugh. "Come get your eggs."

Ethan suddenly grabbed her swinging ponytail.

"You actually believe me?"

Jenna turned to see fractured sunlight dancing in his eyes.

Steam rose from the millet porridge on the table.

Milo Roland sneaked a hand toward the bacon, only to get whacked by Jenna's chopsticks.

"Wait for everyone," she scolded.

Ethan approached, drying his damp hair. "Your house has too many rules."

"Family tradition." Jenna served him a third bowl.

Ethan abruptly caught her wrist. "About last night—"

"Five trips for the clothes!" Jenna yanked free and bolted to the living room.

Ethan caught up in three strides, hoisting the largest bag one-handed.

"Hey!" Jenna jumped for his shoulder. "I said I'd do it!"

He easily held the package overhead, grinning at her ruffled expression.

"Beg me."

Milo's shout echoed up the stairwell: "Sis! The taxi's leaving!"

Ethan seized the chance to stash the bag in the trunk. When he turned, Jenna collided with him, breathless.

Her nose glistened with sweat, eyes bright as constellations.

"Thank—"

"Hotpot next time." Ethan flicked her forehead.