I Bought a Boyfriend, Then He Spent Years Looking for Me Chapter 04

I Bought a Boyfriend, Then He Spent Years Looking for Me Chapter 04

In the past, I had been too spoiled to even touch takeout.

During our four years in college, Ethan Carter delivered food after class.

His dinner was often the boxed meal given by the delivery platform.

Once, I went to find him.

In a cramped break room, he sat squeezed among a group of delivery riders, eating from a takeout box.

I said,

“Ethan Carter, why are you eating this?”

“This isn’t clean.”

His expression turned uncomfortable.

“Does clean matter?”

“Come on. Eat steak with me.”

I dragged him to a newly opened Western restaurant.

The average cost per person was over seventy dollars.

He stood at the restaurant entrance for a long while, then silently took off his delivery jacket.

After my family fell, I finally understood what he had felt that day.

Just like today.

—

It was snowing.

The ground was slippery.

I fell, and the order spilled.

I called the customer to explain, but got cursed out instead.

The customer said,

“Don’t make excuses. Late is late.”

My scraped palms ached sharply in the freezing winter air.

But I had no time to care.

I kept saying sorry.

Ethan Carter suddenly appeared and lifted my electric scooter.

I didn’t know when he had arrived or how long he had been watching.

Instinctively, I hid my hand behind my back.

“Don’t hide it.”

His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were very red.

“Go rinse it.”

“I have to deliver the food first.”

“Get in. I’ll drive you.”

The customer lived on the first floor.

When I delivered the food, the person muttered,

—

“What the hell? People who drive Porschees deliver food now?”

I still had to take the next order.

Ethan Carter said,

“Stop delivering.”

“I can’t. I made too little tonight.”

“Then I’ll buy it.”

“What?”

With a ding, the system automatically accepted the order he had assigned.

“I’m buying your time tonight.”

Ethan Carter drove me to his home.

I stood in the entryway and refused to go in.

“Stella Monroe will be mad.”

Ethan Carter said,

“You still have time to worry about other people?”

“Look at yourself. You fell hard.”

Besides the scrapes on my palms, I was covered in dirty snow water.

“Also, Mia Sullivan.”

“Look at this place. Does it look like a woman has ever been here?”

—

“You two don’t live together?”

“I was never with her in the first place.”

Ethan Carter tossed a contract at me.

“Six months ago, she came to me and proposed a partnership.”

“She didn’t want people in the entertainment industry forcing her into social drinking and shady meetings, so she asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend.”

“At the same time, she would help me deal with difficult clients.”

After a pause, as if afraid I wouldn’t understand, he explained further.

“Some clients like sending women to men’s beds. They think everyone wants that.”

“I find it disgusting.”

“Stella Monroe helped me block those situations.”

The contract was written clearly.

Both parties would not interfere in each other’s private lives.

Ethan Carter pulled my hand over and treated my wound.

I saw a row of unopened hand creams on the shelf.

They were from the luxury brand I used to love.

Ethan Carter had bought the entire set and kept it at home.

“Today, I asked around with your coworkers.”

—

His voice sank.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Last week at the team event, you said you were single.”

“Mia Sullivan, you lied to me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Then show me a photo.”

“You and that man.”

“We never took one.”

“You love taking pictures, and you don’t have one with your new man?”

“Thanks for reminding me. I’ll take one next time and show you.”

Ethan Carter laughed in anger.

He suddenly braced one hand on the sofa and completely caged me in, his presence overwhelming.

I couldn’t move.

Even through my sweater, I could feel the warmth of his body.

“I bought your time. You know what you’re supposed to do, don’t you?”

“I’ll refund you, Ethan Carter.”

“I’m really getting married.”

—

His hand slid down my shoulder but stopped at my wrist.

“You’re getting married, but you’re still wearing the bracelet your ex-boyfriend gave you. Isn’t that inappropriate?”