Out of Control: Into Your Everything-Chapter 48: Don’t Touch Me

Sure enough, as soon as Scarlett Shaw finished speaking, the coldness between Julian Ford’s brows faded away. Though he was still calm and unreadable, at least that suffocating aura disappeared.

She tried to please him, reaching out to hug his waist and nuzzling against him.

Only, this hug was pushed away by Julian Ford.

Scarlett froze, looking up at him in confusion.

She wasn’t disappointed or angry or sad—in fact, Scarlett was secretly amused. Huh, could it be that Julian Ford was finally getting bored of her?

Julian’s chiseled features twitched slightly, as if he was holding something back.

Scarlett noticed and kindly asked, "Are you feeling unwell?"

Julian Ford: "I’m hungry."

"..."

Fine, she was hungry too.

Scarlett was usually frugal and cooked at home most days. The fridge was pretty well stocked, so she took out some beef and tomatoes, planning to make tomato beef stew and a quick stir-fried cabbage with vinegar.

She turned on the kitchen hood, and it was noisy enough that she didn’t even hear her phone ringing.

Instead, Julian glanced at her constantly vibrating phone. Seeing the caller ID—Yana Yarrow—he nonchalantly swiped to answer.

"Scarlett, I’m at the bar and I’ve been waiting so long the drinks are getting warm! Where the hell are you?"

Yana’s wailing suddenly exploded from the phone, completely unaware of how weird the silence was on the other end.

"Let me tell you, this dude with the killer pecs finally has a free night and if you don’t come seize the chance, those pecs will belong to someone else! Hurry up and come cop a feel!"

"And sis, I’ve even found you a total knockout. Picked him out from a crowd! Okay, so he’s still kinda lacking compared to your beloved Fords’ Second Son, but he’s young and virtuous—total boyfriend material! You’re not gonna regret it!"

"Scarlett?!"

Yana was practically talking herself hoarse. Getting no response from Scarlett, she started to worry that something had happened, her voice growing anxious.

But then, in the very next second, all that concern turned straight into a bestie’s hopeful prayer that tomorrow would be better.

Julian Ford: "I’ll be sure to pass that on to her."

Yana Yarrow: "..."

Julian’s voice was cool and calm, totally unreadable. Yana nearly hung up as fast as lightning and hurried to message Scarlett on WhatsApp:

-Scarlett, Julian Ford just answered your call. Let’s reschedule the hot guy thing, okay?

Julian stared at the WhatsApp notification popping up on Scarlett’s phone, his face expressionless as he vaguely curled his lips.

Scarlett, blissfully unaware of the call fiasco.

She finished cooking, set the dishes on the table, and even served a bowl of rice for the oh-so-precious Mr. Ford, placing it right in front of him.

Julian gave her a brief, indifferent look.

Just a completely ordinary look.

But for some reason, Scarlett felt a cold sweat break out down her back.

She tested the waters: "Don’t like the dishes?"

Julian withdrew his gaze, slowly tasting a bite of beef. "Not bad," he said in his usual mild tone.

Way better than his usual "I can eat it."

The joy of hard work—it’s really about being acknowledged by others, isn’t it?

Scarlett grinned. "Then have some more."

Julian replied with a light hum. He wasn’t chatty while eating, and was awfully quiet and well-mannered. Even sitting in Scarlett’s simple, cheap apartment, it was like dining at a fancy restaurant—refined and elegant to the max.

Scarlett couldn’t help but keep sneaking sidelong glances at Julian.

Honestly, as long as this guy kept his mouth shut, he was simply eye candy galore.

The best part was, Julian seemed extra easygoing tonight. His verbal jabs had softened quite a bit compared to usual.

Scarlett’s "stealth-glancing" frequency was getting a little out of control. Before long, Julian put down his bowl, grabbed a napkin, gently wiped his mouth, then glanced down at her. "Had enough looking?"

The mood between them right now was perfectly normal and harmonious, so Scarlett didn’t butt heads with him for once. She cheerfully said, "You’re so attractive, how could I ever get enough?"

Julian Ford: "Not enough? But you still want to go touch some guy’s pecs?"

"..."

Scarlett had no idea Julian had picked up that call. She thought he was just rehashing old grievances and jumped in, "That was, like, a million years ago. I was just joking with a friend—I didn’t mean anything. Please, don’t take it seriously."

Julian Ford: "Is that so?"

Scarlett nodded, forcing herself to look sincere.

Julian gave her a meaningful smile and pulled out a napkin to wipe his mouth again.

Just when things felt harmonious, the atmosphere took a sudden, awkward nosedive.

Trying to cover up her guilt, Scarlett deliberately acted casual while clearing the table. "President Ford, it must be so tiring just sitting there. How about you wash the dishes? Stretch your legs a bit?"

Julian Ford—a pampered, spoiled young master whose ten fingers never touched a single chore—Scarlett absolutely didn’t expect him to actually agree.

She was just throwing it out there, hoping for that one-in-a-million chance.

But to Scarlett’s surprise, Julian just looked at her coolly—and then, without a word, got up, took off his coat, strode into the kitchen, turned on the tap, and started washing dishes.

Dress shirt, suit pants, long legs—noble and icy as ever.

All while doing something as down-to-earth as washing dishes.

A true once-in-a-lifetime sight.

Scarlett quickly took out her phone to capture this moment for posterity.

But right after she took the photo and habitually opened WhatsApp, spotting that blinking red notification from Yana, the warmth in Scarlett’s heart instantly froze into icy slush.

She remembered how, just earlier, she’d flat-out denied everything in front of Julian Ford with such self-assurance.

She felt like a clown.

This man, with his vengeful streak, always looked so nonchalant on the surface. Who knows what sort of payback he was plotting in his head.

Experience told Scarlett: Right now, being stubborn was a dead end. Quick and honest confession was the only way out.

She walked up behind Julian, just about to apologize, but then caught sight of something red showing through his shirt—looked an awful lot like blood.

"President Ford."

"Hm?"

Julian had just finished washing and turned off the tap, when he felt his shirt sleeve being gently tugged. Looking down, Scarlett was peering intently at the bloodstain on his shirt.

"Is this your blood?"

Scarlett was puzzled. How could someone so distinguished as Julian Ford get injured?

She didn’t get an answer out of him—only felt him coldly push her hand away.

Scarlett looked up, meeting those icy dark eyes.

Julian Ford: "Don’t touch me."

Scarlett: "..."

Fine, won’t touch you then.

Scarlett pulled her hand back. Julian walked off to the side, grabbed a napkin to dry his hands. Maybe the blood on his shirt made Scarlett pay more attention this time, but she finally noticed a cut right in Julian’s palm.

The gash was in the very center, unbandaged and now, after being soaked in water, had started to bleed again, the skin opening up and looking a bit gruesome.

Julian tossed the used napkin into the trash.

His lowered hand was suddenly taken by another slender, fair hand.