Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 43: So Tight

Claire Prescott stayed alone in her bedroom, her brows knotted.

She felt as if there was a hole pierced in her heart, unsure of what could fill it. If Finn Prescott treated her worse, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt this much.

Yet he was so good to her, indulging her temper, being patient with her, spoiling her to the point where she felt he could pluck stars and the moon from the sky for her.

Whenever she wanted to accept him, the image of her mother lying in a pool of blood after falling from the building would flash in her mind, and the hatred would uncontrollably transfer to him.

Her eyes grew moist as she fetched her phone and followed her heart, sending a message to Keane Lowell.

[Are you free?]

[I want a hug]

...

In less than an hour, Keane Lowell’s car appeared at her doorstep.

Receiving his call, Claire Prescott ran outside.

As soon as she got into the car, she saw him close his laptop and put it down, it was clear he was busy.

Was she disrupting his work?

The partition in the car remained raised, and the narrow space was filled with a subtle woody scent that overwhelmingly reached her nose.

The scene from last night, kissing in front of Assistant Cheney in this very car, flashed across her mind.

Claire Prescott’s face felt inexplicably warm.

While she was buckling the seatbelt, his hand reached over, enveloping her hand holding the metal buckle.

"Didn’t you want a hug?" His voice was low and magnetic.

With a press of his thumb, the metal buckle slid out of her hand.

When their eyes met, a tingling sensation traveled from her fingers to her heart, like a mild electric shock.

After hesitating for a moment, she leveraged his strength to smoothly sit on his lap, easily clinging to him.

The void in her heart gradually became occupied by his warmth and presence, seeping in drops of sweetness, and a smile curved her lips as she leaned against his sturdy shoulder.

The force around her waist suddenly tightened, feeling as if she might be crushed in his embrace.

"Too... too tight," she murmured.

Keane Lowell glanced down at her, loosening his grip, "Is this more comfortable?"

Claire Prescott’s face turned a shade of pink, nodding, "I... it’s just a bit warm."

She was wearing long sleeves and pants, her hair flowing thickly, close and prolonged contact with him was bound to be warm.

No need for Keane Lowell to remind, Assistant Cheney in the front had already silently lowered the air conditioning temperature.

Hearing the suggestive conversation behind, even his ever-unperturbed poker face couldn’t help blushing.

Especially last night.

He could hear their kissing sounds and whispers while embracing.

He had never seen the boss lose control, never seen him so tender with a woman.

Just an hour ago, they were in a high-level meeting.

The boss received two messages and immediately decided to switch the meeting online, then left the CBD building with his laptop, just finishing it seconds before Claire Prescott got into the car.

The temperature inside the car slowly cooled, though someone was sitting on his lap, it was almost weightless. Keane Lowell turned slightly, his lips accidentally brushed her forehead, and he kissed it gently.

Claire Prescott instinctively looked up, meeting his gaze.

His eyes were light, as if kissing between them had become something they didn’t need permission for anymore.

"Where do you want to go?" Keane Lowell asked, his voice tender and magnetic, seemingly lowering it deliberately.

Claire Prescott was reluctant to take up his time, "Don’t you need to work?"

"I’m done, the remaining time is yours."

So, he planned to spend the entire half-day with her?

At this moment.

She couldn’t help but wonder.

Keane Lowell was so good to her; how could a simple "not suitable" dismiss him as a person?

Claire Prescott silently held onto him, pressing closer.

...

They spent over two hours after lunch at Silverdrift Rink.

Keane Lowell stood by the floor-to-ceiling window making phone calls.

In the snowfield below, the young girl wore white fluffy warm clothes, mixed in with the scattered crowd, accidentally plunging into the snow, she got back on her feet, playing through all the rink’s activities on her own.

The way she released her emotions was reckless and seeking thrill, something typical of her youthful age, and utterly charming.

Seeming tired from playing, she dragged her heavy body off the field and headed upstairs.

Keane Lowell ended the call, went to the changing room, and stepped toward her.

The young girl’s forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her pale face slightly flushed, a pair of bright almond-shaped eyes like they were brimming with stars.

"Hot?"

"Hot, I’m dying from the heat." She said while taking off her coat, fanning herself with her hand.

Keane Lowell took out a handkerchief, gently wiping the sweat off her forehead.

His movements were tender, and Claire Prescott felt a delicate, silent breeze stirring within her body, softly soothing her soul.

"President Lowell."

Keane Lowell paused at her bright gaze.

And the young girl simply smiled, saying, "It’s nothing."

He put away the handkerchief, crouched down to help her remove the knee pads, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

Claire Prescott shook her head.

Taking off the warm gear, her slender body immersed in the cold air, she immediately hugged his body, burrowing into his arms for warmth.

She didn’t care about being reserved.

She seemed to have long since forgotten about that.

A man’s voice dropped from above her head, "Let’s go out, don’t catch a cold."

Back to normal room temperature, her body warmth gradually returned. Walking just like ordinary lovers hand in hand along the street, their compatible appearance and aura made passersby turn to look.

Claire Prescott bought two ice creams from a shop and handed him one, leading him to sit under a sunshade.

"Does it taste good?" Claire Prescott turned to look at him, finding the ice cream in the hands of the mature and refined man looked like a little trinket.

For no reason, she wanted to taste the ice cream he was holding, wondering if it’s different from hers.

"Want to taste it?" He said, turning the untouched end towards her.

Claire Prescott leaned forward, taking a small bite from it, letting the icy granules melt on her lips, commenting, "Seems tastier than mine."

Generously, she offered hers to him, gesturing for him to try.

However, Keane Lowell bypassed her ice cream, drawing close and kissed her lips lightly, with a cool touch.

Claire Prescott’s mind went blank, staring at those deep eyes that seemed to draw her in.

"Yours is tastier; shall we swap?"

Hearing his words made Claire Prescott’s cheeks burn even more.

Though what she had in her mouth was the flavor of his ice cream...

Feeling as if trapped in an oxygen-deprived room, she almost couldn’t breathe, shying away from his gaze and quietly swapped the ice cream with the one in his hand.

Feigning as if nothing had happened, she dispelled the remaining taste from her lips, took a bite, and let the icy granules cool her down.