**Chapter 708: Rambling Endlessly**
“I genuinely had something I wanted to share with you, Mr. Sage…”
At the mention of his name, Sage’s attention sharpened, his curiosity piqued.
“What shampoo do you use? Your hair looks really nice,” she said, her tone light yet earnest.
He found himself momentarily lost for words, caught off guard by her unexpected compliment.
“I absolutely despise my hair. It’s neither dark nor shiny enough,” she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mix of sincerity and playfulness. “So, please, do share your secret.”
Sage’s gaze narrowed as he observed Theresa, who wore an expression of complete seriousness. In a swift, almost impulsive gesture, he reached out and removed her shower cap, letting it fall away to reveal her long, auburn hair, which cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of silk.
He couldn’t help but admire the sheen of her hair, which appeared impossibly flawless, even in its dry state. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes held a complexity of emotions that were difficult to decipher. “You were hiding someone in the bathroom just now, weren’t you?” he asked, his voice steady, though a hint of playful accusation lingered.
Theresa met his gaze directly, her expression innocent as she blinked slowly, feigning ignorance.
“Come on, Mr. Sage…” she called out sweetly, her tone coaxing yet teasing.
He was utterly bewildered, struggling to find his footing in this unexpected exchange.
“Why won’t you believe me? I genuinely want to know your secret to great hair,” she insisted, her voice taking on a more serious note.
Sage studied her intently, noting the sincerity in her eyes. “Don’t be deceived by how it looks right now,” she continued, her tone shifting to one of vulnerability. “I shed a ton of hair, and I’ve got split ends. Honestly, I’m terrified I might go bald in a few years.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Sage’s mouth as he regarded her earnestness.
“Aside from your hair, what else were you planning to discuss with me?” he inquired, his curiosity growing.
“Nothing for the moment,” she replied, a hint of mischief in her voice.
“Didn’t you mention you had a plethora of things to tell me?” Sage countered, popping open a can of beer with a satisfying crack. “Go on. As long as you keep talking, I won’t delve into what transpired back there.”
Feeling a mix of apprehension and amusement, Theresa inhaled deeply.
If he yearned to indulge in her ramblings, she would gladly oblige.
With a playful glint in her eyes, Theresa began to scrutinize him from head to toe—inquiring about his attire, the choice of tie he had made, how he secured his belt, and even whether he donned winter underwear.
To her surprise, Sage displayed an unexpected patience, engaging with her questions earnestly.
“I don’t wear winter underwear,” he replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice.
“Don’t you get cold without it? You should be careful, or you’ll end up with bad knees when you’re older,” she warned, her expression a mix of concern and jest.
Sage raised his beer, a smile tugging at his lips as he met her gaze. “Are you afraid of the cold?” he teased.

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