No Substitutes for the Bigshots' Dream Girl Anymore!-Chapter 1651 Arnold Simmons Extra (17)

Francis Evans and a few men exchange glances, uncertainly asking, "Is this love?"

...

Arnold Simmons dropped the person off at the entrance of the residential area; the whole trip took less than ten minutes since the residential area is just across the street.

He suddenly felt that his idea of sending her home just now was somewhat unnecessary.

But Hannah didn’t think so. She stood at the entrance without going in, looking up at Arnold standing nearby.

Under the light, the young man’s facial features appeared especially profound and three-dimensional, with a smooth jawline and a long neck, and a faintly visible cold clavicle line.

"Do you like watching that much?"

The young man’s lazy tone fell in her ears, carrying a slightly warm breath. He was leaning over, and his shadow almost completely enveloped the petite person in front of him.

Hannah was startled by this sudden proximity and subconsciously tried to step back, but accidentally stepped on a pebble on the ground.

She didn’t fall but was instead pulled close by the young man.

"Really got you staring." He seemed to chuckle lightly, his voice low and deep.

Hannah was just distracted for a moment. She looked up meeting those dark, heavy eyes and pursed her lips, "I wasn’t looking."

As if to prove herself, she didn’t shift her gaze away, somewhat stubbornly.

Arnold curved his lips, drawing out his intonation, leisurely saying, "Alright, you weren’t looking."

His tone sounded annoyingly smug.

Hannah tightened the grip on her backpack strap, hesitated for a while but still asked, "Were you guys about to fight?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Who told you?"

"I guessed." Because that’s what everyone in school says.

They say Arnold is a bad student, often mingling with people outside the school, always carrying injuries on his body from fights.

His demeanor is dark and somber, somewhat like a fierce watchdog abandoned by the roadside.

Of course, mostly because...

Hannah met Arnold’s eyes, filled with a hint of amusement, as if having a lot to say but it all turned into silence.

"So you think I’m a bad person?" He looked at her with a smirk, his lazy tone containing a bit of exclamation, "Would a bad person walk you home?"

Hannah shook her head, "I never thought that."

She softened her voice, closer now, sounding almost coquettish.

Arnold lowered his gaze, unintentionally glimpsing an inch below her neck, a fine and snow-white patch; his gaze paused and then slowly moved away.

He retracted his smile, his eyes revealing an innate indifference, "Go home, it’s late."

His tone was light.

"Are you mad?" Hannah tilted her head to see his eyes beneath the brim of his cap.

Arnold deliberately avoided looking at her, "Not mad."

"Really?" Hannah pursed her lips, her cheeks still slightly chubby, slightly puffed.

Arnold stayed silent.

Hannah could only say: "Then I’m going home."

"Mhm."

Hannah walked a few steps away and then turned back to look.

Arnold was still standing in the same spot, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone, as if he was talking to someone, continuously watching in her direction.

He wanted to make sure she made it home safely.

Hannah waved at him, smiling happily.

But Arnold’s gaze could only see a person hopping happily under the street light.

He couldn’t help but chuckle.

At the other end of the phone, Francis Evans immediately noticed, "Arnold, what are you laughing at?"

He returned to his usual stern coldness in a second, "Nothing."

Francis Evans: "..." He clearly heard it.