Turning to Frank, Alda said, “Sorry, Mr. Frankton. We’re really close, so we tend not to hold back. Don’t worry about it.” “Don’t worry,” Jouri chuckled. “I know you don’t like pretty boys!”
As Alda blushed harder, Jouri could see that there was something between those two. “So, it’s like that, huh?”
“No!” Alda rolled her eyes at Jouri.
“Whatever. Just go in. I’ll be done soon.”
“Okay.”
Both Alda and Frank headed into the cottage, whose furnishings were quite old, just like the farmer cottage it appeared to be on the outside.
Still, Alda sighed as she remembered how Jouri had wrecked over a dozen Kawasaki bikes just to get to her. “She was very poor back in college. It’s been a few years, but I guess she’s now dirt rich.” “Hey, who were you mocking?” Jouri asked, carrying a large pot of food.
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