Natalie looked up and asked, puzzled, "What's wrong?" Cassian's face was blank. "Nothing." She turned back to the TV, then suddenly remembered. "Oh right, did you see the pajamas and change of clothes I set out for you?" Cassian's face darkened even more. He was silent for several seconds before saying, "Yeah. I saw them." Natalie had no idea what had gotten into him. She had gone out of her way to get him fresh clothes—why did he look upset instead of grateful? He'd been fine before they walked inside. What was this, mood swings? She gave up trying to figure it out and kept watching TV. Cassian sat down beside her, a storm cloud in human form. After a while, he finally muttered, "I don't wear other men's clothes." "Huh?" Natalie blinked in confusion. "What other men?" Cassian gritted his teeth. "Your ex-boyfriend." Natalie froze. What ex-boyfriend? Whose ex-boyfriend? It took her a while before she realized what he meant. He thought she had given him some old clothes from the imaginary "ex" she'd once made up. This guy actually remembered that nonsense? She turned to him with a crooked half-smile. "So if you don't wear the clothes I gave you, what do you plan to do when yours get dirty?" Cassian pressed his lips together and said, "Go shirtless." Natalie had no words. She rolled her eyes at him. "They're all brand-new! The price tags are still on them." Cassian was shocked. Then he cleared his throat, stood up, and went back to check the closet. Sure enough, the clothes still had their tags. His expression softened right away. When he'd first opened the closet, he hadn't expected Natalie to have prepared anything. All he saw were loud, brightly colored T-shirts. His first thought was that they were left behind by some tasteless guy—like the ex-boyfriend she couldn't forget. Now, standing there, he remembered something else—back at the base, hadn't she said she'd never even had her first kiss? Cassian smirked. Figures. When you care too much about someone, you stop thinking straight. A little later, Natalie noticed Cassian strolling back out, looking lighter on his feet, now wearing the green pajamas from the closet. She smirked at him. "So you'll wear them after all, huh? Now that you know they're new?" He looked amused but kept a straight face. "Your taste could use some work." Most of his clothes were black, white, or gray. When he opened the closet, it was crammed with outfits with flashy, crazy prints. It felt like he'd just been dressed for a beach vacation.Natalie puckered her lips. "Hey, I grabbed them while scavenging. Having clothes at all is lucky—who's got time to pick styles?" Cassian shot her a glance and said nothing. She's lying again. This woman had cleared out my entire department store once; she could have picked anything she wanted. She hadn't left the potted plants behind. But he didn't call her out. Instead, he looked down at the green pajamas. Maybe this is her type of style? After hesitating, he asked, "Do I look good in this?" Natalie thought he was talking about the show. "The beginning was fine, but the ending was stupid. All that drama, and it turns out to be a dream?" Cassian explained, "I meant my outfit." "Huh?" She finally understood and glanced at him. On anyone else, that loose green pajama set would have looked feminine and sloppy. But on him, it made his skin look brighter and gave him a casual, effortless charm. "You ... actually look good," she admitted. Natalie had purposely picked the ugliest sets from the men's section so his looks wouldn't distract her. Somehow, he made even the ugliest clothes look good. Not wanting to stare too long to avoid falling for his charm, Natalie quickly turned back to the TV. The earlier show ended, and Natalie clicked on another random drama.Just then, Cassian sat down on the couch beside her. She jumped. "What are you doing?" "Watching the show." He sat so close that if either of them shifted just a little, their legs would touch. Natalie quietly scooted farther away. "This is an 88-episode soap opera called 'The Devil's Stepmom.' Not really your thing." "I like it," he said flatly. Natalie couldn't argue with him. So the two of them sat side by side. The drama on screen was full of twists, betrayal, and over-the-top shouting. Natalie stared straight at the TV, but none of it sank in. All she could hear was Cassian breathing next to her. She simply couldn't focus on the drama. She was secretly mad at herself. Am I going crazy? How could I pick up every single breath sound of his this clearly? Of course. Any time Cassian was this close, that dizzy, out-of-control feeling came rushing back. Annoyed, she grabbed the remote and cranked up the volume. Now, the room was filled with the shrill voices of actors yelling at each other.