The\_Procrastinator

Chapter 935 Orthodox

Chapter 935: Chapter 935 Orthodox


It was a moment suspended in time.


Nina could see it all—the subtle touches, the lingering gazes, the way Ross’s hand rested protectively on Carrie’s waist, the tilt of her head as she smiled at him with quiet certainty.


And in that instant, Nina realized something that both thrilled and terrified her: Carrie wasn’t just untouchable in Ross’s arms—she was untouchable in every way.


And yet, despite everything, Nina could not move.


Her body refused, her eyes refusing to leave the two lovers, as if rooted to the spot by the sheer intensity of what she was witnessing.


"I... I... I just got here. What is your boyfriend doing here?" Nina stammered, cheeks flaming.


The female washroom was supposed to be private—a sanctuary from boys—but Ross was standing there, tall, composed, and utterly magnetic.


"Carrie took a long time in here, so I just came in to check on her," Ross said, his deep, commanding voice resonating in the small space.


The sound alone made Nina’s heart race, a warmth spreading through her body she had no control over.


Even behind the dark glasses, she knew he was looking at her.


Every movement, every word, carried an undeniable weight of authority and attraction.


Ross’s gaze lingered on her, subtly tracing her blonde hair, the curve of her waist, and the cheerleader uniform that accentuated her figure.


Nina felt an almost dizzying heat creep through her body.


Her pulse spiked, her knees felt weak, and a shiver ran down her spine.


She tried to focus, to act normal, but the truth was that every fiber of her being was aware of him.


"I see," she managed to say, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.


At that moment, Carrie stepped forward to make the proper introduction.


"Ross, this is Nina. Nina, this is Ross," she said, a smile playing on her lips as though she knew the effect her boyfriend had on everyone around him.


Ross extended his hand. Nina hesitated for a moment, then took it.


The instant their palms touched, she was struck by how strong and commanding his grip was—firm enough to be startling, yet deliberate, measured, as if he already knew the effect he had.


She felt a shiver ripple through her body, a wave of heat pooling in places she couldn’t acknowledge.


Her thoughts began to spiral.


Everything about him—the confidence, the sheer physicality, the aura of dominance—spoke of a man who was utterly in control.


He exuded a kind of raw, magnetic masculinity that made her feel small and exposed, yet inexplicably drawn in.


She could feel herself judging, silently and unwillingly, comparing him to her boyfriend, Zack.


Zack, sweet and kind, but... ordinary.


In comparison, Ross was like a force of nature: larger, stronger, more commanding.


Even without seeing him fully, Nina’s mind conjured images of his body, his presence, and yes—the size and power that she knew he carried.


Every instinct told her that staying in the same room with him for another minute would make her lose all control.


She would come in her thong right then and there!


And yet, as unnerving as it was, she couldn’t look away.


Every subtle movement he made—the slight tilt of his head, the way he relaxed into the space, the careful weight of his voice—spoke volumes.


Nina felt her own desire tangle with a strange mix of fear and awe, the heat rising in her chest threatening to betray her entirely.


Even Carrie’s voice, trying to fill the silence, couldn’t break the tension.


It was as if the air itself had grown heavier, charged with something unspoken.


Nina realized with a jolt that Ross’s presence wasn’t just magnetic—it was dominating.


And she, for all her attempts to remain composed, was already under his spell.


By the time Carrie finished her introduction, Nina was trembling slightly, her mind racing, her body reacting in ways she hadn’t anticipated.


"We should go," Carrie said, her arm snaking possessively around Ross’s broad shoulder as they walked away.


She held him as if staking a claim, her hand resting confidently on his chest, her body pressed close.


Ross didn’t resist, his calm, unbothered demeanor almost daring anyone to challenge him.


Carrie had no idea, though, that he had already left a different kind of mark in the room—a seed that could grow in ways neither of them expected.


Nina stood frozen for a moment, her eyes following them until they disappeared.


Then, almost subconsciously, she opened her palm.


Her heart skipped when she saw the small, folded piece of paper that had slipped into her hand during the handshake with Ross.


A phone number. Written neatly, unmistakably meant for her.


A jolt ran through her body. She felt a flush rise to her cheeks, heat pooling in her stomach.


The fact that he—Ross, the man who exuded power and confidence with every movement—had singled her out, even slightly, made her feel seen, desirable, alive.


For a brief second, Nina allowed herself a small, secret smile.


This little truth boosted her self esteem immensely.


But almost immediately, reality intruded. Carrie’s boy died was nothing but a greedy playboy, a man who didn’t care about women’s hearts—only their bodies.


She could almost imagine him, charming and reckless, moving from one conquest to the next without hesitation.


A shiver of disgust followed the thrill. Her fingers clenched the paper tighter, crumpling it until the edges tore.


She suddenly felt sorry for Carrie.


"Pig," she muttered under her breath, a mixture of disappointment and frustration, as if she could scold him for her own conflicted feelings.


She tossed the crumpled note into the trash, telling herself she was done with it.


She walked to the nearest stall—the one Carrie had been near—and relieved herself, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to settle the storm inside her.


But even after she went out of the toilet and washed her hands, her mind refused to let go.


She kept glancing at the trash can.