Naomi looked up and met Lennon's steady gaze.
"I can't very well be the target of your anger without at least knowing the reason why."
Naomi hesitated but she quickly came to a decision.
Perhaps it was the quiet, tranquil atmosphere of the empty office, which made her feel more inclined to confide in someone.
Or perhaps it was because her drama with Zebulon was already public knowledge, so there was nothing left to hide.
Naomi told him about what was happening on the forum.
"I just don't know what Zebulon is trying to do," she muttered complainingly. "I've made things perfectly clear, but then he does things that are impossible to refuse."
"And now I'm being painted as the other woman..."
Lennon's expression didn't change as he listened.
When Naomi's head drooped in despair, he asked softly, "Is that what you're so upset about?"
Naomi nodded.
Lennon told her to get her laptop.
Naomi didn't know what he was planning, but she did as he asked.
Lennon's long, slender fingers began to move across the keyboard.
It was only then that Naomi noticed how beautiful his hands were.
The knuckles were well-defined—the kind of perfect hands you'd see in a comic book, yet he always seemed to hide them.
When people looked, he would curl his fingers inward, almost shyly.
Naomi's attention was drawn to the pink hue of his fingertips.


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