Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 109: Chapter 109: Why Does It Feel Like Quentin Blackwood Is Angry?

Yara Scott handed the chopsticks to Seth Scott, but he didn’t take them.

"Aren’t you eating anymore, brother?" Yara Scott asked. "In that case, I’ll eat this."

As she spoke, Yara Scott picked up the small bun—the very one Seth Scott had taken a bite from.

"Hey, Yara!"

Seth Scott was about to stop her, but Yara Scott had already eaten it, looking as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.

Seth Scott’s lips twitched. ’As her brother, I probably should say something about what she just did.’

But Seth Scott knew that Yara Scott was extremely sensitive. She was very insecure about not being a biological member of the Scott family and often wondered if she wasn’t good enough, or if she was the one at fault.

If he said something now, in front of Ivy Sherwood, Yara Scott would only get upset.

Mindful of Yara Scott’s sensitivity, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Yara Scott had always been clingy, following him around since they were children, calling him ’brother’ this and ’brother’ that. Even after learning she wasn’t his biological sister, Seth Scott never treated her differently from his other sister. In his heart, they were both his sisters, and they held the same place.

But as they got older, Yara Scott became less and less concerned about maintaining appropriate boundaries between them, just like today.

Seth Scott was busy and rarely returned to the Scott family home, but every time he saw Yara Scott, she was always incredibly effusive.

"Brother, I’ve noticed the breakfast here is a bit tastier than when the restaurant delivers it to the room. Why is that?" Yara Scott said as she ate.

"I don’t think so." Seth Scott didn’t notice any difference.

How could Ivy Sherwood not see that Yara Scott was doing this on purpose? She lowered her head and smiled faintly.

Yara Scott saw Ivy Sherwood’s faint smile and snapped, "What are you laughing at?"

’Ivy Sherwood’s gaze is as if she can see right through my little schemes, making me feel like a fool.’

’The truth is, I love Seth Scott, but I don’t dare confess. He only sees me as a sister. I’m afraid if I tell him, I won’t even be able to be his sister anymore.’

’Besides, Mom and Dad would never approve of us being together. What if they kick me out and send me back to my birth parents in that impoverished backwater? I’d never survive.’

"It’s nothing," Ivy Sherwood said.

"Nothing? Do you take me for an idiot? What was that look? You were cursing me in your head, weren’t you!"

"If I really wanted to curse you, I wouldn’t do it in my head. I’d say it to your face."

"You! Then what did you mean by that?" Yara Scott thought Ivy Sherwood was doing this on purpose, probably to help Nina Scott. ’They’re two of a kind, so annoying!’

"I didn’t mean anything by it. I just think it’s sweet how close you two are as brother and sister. So close you even share the same meal."

"Or is it that you don’t have hands of your own to go get a plate?"

Yara Scott bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Who do you think you are? It’s none of your business if I eat with my brother!"

"I don’t mean to manage you. It’s just my first time seeing how a high-society lady eats breakfast. One might think you’re a germaphobe, yet you have no issue eating someone else’s leftovers."

’Even between a brother and sister, this isn’t appropriate, is it?’

"He’s my brother! Why can’t I eat his leftovers?"

"You know he’s your brother, too. Not your husband."

"Ivy Sherwood!" Yara Scott was furious. "How could you say that? What’s the difference between a brother and a husband? In my heart, he’s..."

"He’s what?" Ivy Sherwood watched her with an amused smile.

Yara Scott didn’t dare to finish. She couldn’t bring herself to say what was truly in her heart.

"Alright, alright." Seth Scott pulled Yara Scott back. "Sorry about that, Ivy. I apologize for the scene."

Then he turned to Yara Scott and said, "Ivy was right. If you want to eat, go get it yourself. There are plates and chopsticks over there. You can get any buns or pastries you want."

Although his tone was serious, Seth Scott was smiling. No one knew what he was so happy about.

"Brother~" Yara Scott whined. "How could you side with an outsider?"

"She’s not an outsider," Seth Scott said.

Both Ivy Sherwood and Yara Scott froze, their gazes snapping to Seth Scott in unison. Only then did he add, "She’s Nina’s best friend, so she doesn’t count as an outsider."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

’Seth Scott really knows how to be dramatic when he talks. It’s terrifying.’

"Seth Scott, you and your sister enjoy your meal. I see someone I know, so I’m going to go say hello."

With that, Ivy Sherwood picked up her tray and dropped it off at the dish return station.

Then, carrying her glass of milk, she walked over to Quentin Blackwood’s table, pulled out the chair opposite him, and sat down.

"Morning, Mr. Blackwood."

At the sound of the clear, pleasant voice, Quentin Blackwood’s body jolted, and his back went ramrod straight.

In front of Quentin Blackwood sat a cup of coffee and a bowl of rice porridge—a very simple breakfast.

"Drinking coffee this early in the morning? Can your stomach handle it?" Ivy Sherwood asked.

"Done eating with that ’dear brother’ of yours?" Quentin Blackwood spoke, his tone unreadable and his expression icy, projecting an unapproachable air.

Ivy Sherwood didn’t catch the meaning behind his words. "’Dear brother’? Are you talking about Seth Scott? He’s not really my brother. He and I..."

’...aren’t actually that close. We barely see each other a few times a year.’

But before she could finish, Quentin Blackwood cut her off coldly. "You don’t have to tell me what your relationship is. I don’t care."

’Right. Why would Quentin Blackwood care about such trivial things?’

"I haven’t had a chance to thank you in person for arranging the room for me. So, thank you, Quentin Blackwood."

’If Quentin Blackwood hadn’t arranged another room for me, I would have had to make do in my car last night.’

"No need. Anyone else who calls me ’uncle’ would get the same treatment."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

’Why do I get the feeling Quentin Blackwood is unhappy? Every word he says is barbed.’

’I know I made him angry that night when I refused, but I apologized afterward, didn’t I? He can’t be this petty, can he?’

"Are you upset about something?" Ivy Sherwood asked directly.

"No."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

’And that’s supposed to be *not* upset?’

"Well, would you like to eat something else? I can go get it for you." Seeing how little Quentin Blackwood was eating, Ivy Sherwood thought it surely wasn’t enough for a grown man.

Quentin Blackwood paused mid-sip of his porridge. "And if that Scott fellow wanted something to eat, would you go get it for him, too?"

Ivy Sherwood was taken aback. "You mean Seth Scott? What does this have to do with him? Besides, it wouldn’t be my place to do that, would it?"

’If Seth Scott wanted anything, Yara Scott would be the first one to rush off and get it.’

Quentin Blackwood said coldly, "So if it *was* your place, you would go?"

’What is he even talking about? Whether it was my place or not, I still wouldn’t go. It’s not like Seth Scott doesn’t have his own two hands.’

Quentin Blackwood had completely lost his appetite. He didn’t even finish the porridge in his bowl, instead downing his coffee in one gulp. As the bitterness spread across his tongue, he felt that today’s coffee was especially harsh.

He stood up, took his bowl to the dish return station, and prepared to leave.

"Quen—"

Ivy Sherwood quickly finished her milk and hurried after him.