Help! My hunky roommate is begging me to touch his abs!

When the two men in the house returned, Jin Bao'er was still chatting with Li Jiaxin.

"Alright, Mom, it's time to give my wife back to me."

As soon as Zhao Yuheng entered the room, his gaze was fixed on Jin Bao'er. He naturally put his hand on Jin Bao'er's shoulder and gently rubbed the soft flesh of his shoulder with his fingertips.

"Here you go, here you go." Li Jiaxin glared at her son, then smiled and got up to get some water.

Zhao Yuheng applied slight pressure with his palm and led Jin Bao'er towards his room.

He walked slowly, step by step, as if afraid that if he let go, he would float away.

"Baby, what did you and Mom talk about?"

The man asked in a low voice while casually lifting his short-sleeved shirt up and taking it off over his head.

The movements were unhurried and deliberate, yet fluid and deliberate.

His strong, firm abs were clearly visible, and his waistline was taut and sexy.

Jin Bao'er's gaze did not fall on those lines.

She stared intently at his buzz cut, her fingertips curling slightly.

I wanted to reach out and brush my hair aside, but I didn't dare. I could only search for it little by little with my eyes.

Find the wound hidden inside, the one he took for him.

"We... talked about your childhood." His voice was soft and a little muffled.

"Would my mom have revealed all the embarrassing things I did when I was little?" Zhao Yuheng chuckled, his breath wafting towards him.

As he spoke, in front of Jin Bao'er, he hooked his fingertips around his waistband and gently tugged it, clearly indicating that he was going to take a shower.

"He said some things."

Jin Bao'er felt a pang of sadness and a tightness in her chest. The thought of that wound made her tense all over, and all her thoughts were focused on him.

But it wasn't those erotic thoughts; it was pain, lingering fear, and the pain of holding back for too long.

The man took off his outer trousers and went straight into the bathroom to turn on the water, leaving the door wide open without even closing it.

Jin Bao'er's ear tips suddenly felt hot, and her breathing became erratic.

He bit his lip, strode over, and slammed the door shut.

"Bao'er, what are you doing?"

Zhao Yuheng smeared foam on his hair, reached out and opened the door, revealing his entire body.

Water droplets slid down her neckline, and her Adam's apple bobbed.

"Aren't you ashamed?"

Jin Bao'er turned her face away.

"Don't you like looking at your husband's muscles anymore?"

Zhao Yuheng's voice was low and hoarse, with a hint of mischief and indulgence.

Jin Bao'er didn't say anything, but suddenly pushed the door open a little.

She leaned against the door frame, crossed her arms, and stared straight at him without blinking.

Look! Look like you're going to explode!

This man, who used to be wary of him, avoid him, and be incredibly stubborn, now has no shame whatsoever.

Zhao Yuheng felt a surge of heat in his heart under his gaze, but he didn't flinch, a smile playing on his lips.

They washed quietly and carefully.

The water flowed down his shoulders and waist, every inch of it falling into Jin Bao'er's eyes, making his heart tremble with heat.

……

"Zhao Yuheng, hurry up and come out to cook! Do you expect me to keep cooking for you?" Old Zhao's voice came from outside the door.

Zhao Yuheng put on only a pair of loose shorts and lay back on the bed.

With a long arm, he pulled Jin Bao'er into his embrace, his chest pressed against Jin Bao'er's back, his warm breath falling on Jin Bao'er's neck.

With one arm around his waist, she casually scrolled through videos with the other, her fingertips gently circling his waist.

After hearing this, he reluctantly nuzzled Jinbao'er's neck before slowly getting up.

"Are you going to cook again?" Jin Bao'er looked up at him.

"Yeah, that's right."

Zhao Yuheng lowered his head, his gaze incredibly soft. "Didn't I make these for you before? I'll make them for you from now on. Today, your husband will show you another skill."

As soon as he finished speaking, he tilted his head slightly and gently pecked Jin Bao'er's lips, as light as a feather, yet as heavy as a blow to the heart.

Jin Bao'er's heart skipped a beat, and she subconsciously got up with him.

The slippers slid on the floor, not missing a single step, like a little kite being tethered to a string.

Just as Li Jiaxin said, all the meals at home were cooked by the men.

Two men, one tall and one short, wearing matching aprons, were busy in the kitchen.

Jin Bao'er was also a man, and he felt uncomfortable sitting there, so he tiptoed in to offer his help.

"Don't get in the fumes, go sit in the living room, we'll take care of things here," Old Zhao said gently.

Jin Bao'er had just stopped when Zhao Yuheng turned around, gently pressed his hand on his chest, and led him outside: "The old man has already told you, you should go quickly."

He glanced at the old man, then lowered his head and kissed Jinbao'er on the forehead again.

The movements were so natural it was unbelievable, a blatant display of favoritism.

Jin Bao'er's cheeks flushed, and she could only obediently sit back on the sofa and watch TV with Li Jiaxin.

The show being broadcast is "My Sunshine," an old drama, but it still touches my heart.

By the time he came to his senses, the table was already full of dishes.

"Come on, try my spicy diced chicken." Zhao Yuheng took the first bite and handed it to Jin Bao'er without hesitation. He watched him swallow it before smiling with his eyes crinkling.

"You've forgotten your mother now that you have a wife, haven't you?" Li Jiaxin teased deliberately.

Zhao Yuheng gave an awkward smile and quickly put a piece on his mother's plate as well: "Mom, you have one too."

"Never mind, I'll take care of my own wife," Old Zhao said, picking up a piece of braised pork with preserved vegetables and putting it into Li Jiaxin's bowl.

"Exactly! You should cherish your own wife. If you want another man to cherish her, what's the point of having your own husband?"

Zhao Yuheng casually replied, but his gaze lightly fell on Jin Bao'er.

The group of people at the table were laughing and joking. Jin Bao'er covered her mouth, her eyes filled with warmth.

So this is what it feels like to be so blatantly favored.

After dinner, Jin Bao'er helped clear the dishes. Zhao Yuheng told his parents and then took Jin Bao'er out for a walk.

Summer nights in Sichuan are still sultry, but a gentle breeze brings warmth.

After walking for only a few minutes, sweat began to bead on Zhao Yuheng's forehead, trickling down his jawline.

"Shall we go back?" Jin Bao'er took out a tissue, tiptoed, and wiped his sweat.

As her fingertips brushed against his burning skin, both of them paused slightly.

Zhao Yuheng grabbed his hand, held it in his palm, and led him forward: "There's a park up ahead, let's go sit there."

Jin Bao'er didn't resist, letting him lead her, her fingertips wrapped in his palm, warm and burning.

Unbeknownst to them, the two had arrived at a large river.

The so-called park was just a small path along the river, with dim streetlights casting a soft, veil-like glow.

Zhao Yuheng found a quiet bench and pulled Jin Bao'er to sit down.

Before me stretched a wide river, its surface rippling gently, the lights scattering in the water.

Zhao Yuheng spread his legs wide, leaning back relaxed, his hands clasped on his knees, his gaze fixed on the distance, as if in a daze.

He didn't speak, but his aura became heavy, as if something was pressing on his chest.

Jin Bao'er didn't urge him, but quietly stayed with him, her fingertips subtly moving closer to his hand and gently touching the back of his hand.

But the man remained silent.

Jin Bao'er's heart clenched slightly, and she spoke first, her voice so soft it was almost carried away by the wind:

"Zhao Yuheng...does your head still hurt?"

He turned slightly to the side, tilted his head back, and looked at him intently.

Zhao Yuheng slowly turned his head to meet his gaze.

The light fell into his eyes, a deep darkness that concealed confusion, vulnerability, and unspeakable pain.

Before he could answer, Jin Bao'er reached out and gently pressed the back of his head, slowly pushing his head down.

I moved very gently and carefully, afraid of hurting him.

In the dim light, he gently parted Zhao Yuheng's short hair with his fingertips.

I moved closer and examined the shallow, uneven mark on my scalp.

It is not obvious, but it truly exists.

It was taken for him, it was reserved for him.

Jin Bao'er touched the shallow scar with his fingertip, and it felt like a burning sensation on his heart.

His vision gradually blurred, his nose tingled, and he couldn't hold back his tears; one fell onto the top of Zhao Yuheng's hair.

Zhao Yuheng stiffened, letting him play with his hair and examine it, even his breathing became soft.

Only when he felt the dampness in his hair did his voice tremble slightly, becoming terribly hoarse:

"It doesn't hurt anymore."