Camila felt a rush of panic and lowered her head. She took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, but the fluttering in her heart would not settle.

It wasn't until Connor slumped down like a sack of potatoes that Camila suddenly tightened her grip around him.

Their bodies pressed closely together, and Camila could distinctly feel the man's breath and heartbeat. Her cheeks instantly felt as if they were scorched, burning hot.

"Mr. Connor..." Camila whispered softly, her voice slightly husky.

Connor seemed to hear someone calling him. He opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something. However, his speech was slurred from the alcohol, only a few muddled syllables escaping. "What?" Camila couldn't make out what he was saying.

She took a deep breath, intending to help Connor to the bedroom. But her strength was limited, and the weight of a drunken person felt heavier. She struggled just to move him a few steps.

Unable to move him further, Camila shifted her efforts, managing to get him onto the sofa with difficulty.

Thud-

Camila fell onto the sofa with

a wave of panic through Camila. She immediately scrambled up

sofa, taking deep breaths, fanning her face rapidly, but unable to

the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, slightly easing the burning sensation, and

beside Connor,

breathing was deep and slow, his head tilted, eyes tightly

flushed from the alcohol. It seemed as if

felt intoxicated, her soul drunk. "Connor, I like you." She murmured shyly,

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