Page 30 of A Labor of Hate
I gaped, unsure which part to address first: the fact that he’d voluntarily get me tampons, or that he knew I wasn’t on my period yet.Eventually, I settled on the former.“You would?”
He shrugged, adding another item to his list in his infuriatingly neat handwriting.“Any good husband would.”
Right.It was all for the cover.Anything remotely kind was, because Heaven knows he wouldn’t do it for me otherwise.
I hummed noncommittally, refusing to dwell on the way my chest ached all of a sudden.“In that case, you can add a couple frozen pizzas and stuff for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to the list.”
Defying all logic, his brow rose even higher.“Isthatwhat you eat every day?”
“Noteveryday,” I mumbled, sitting back and hugging myself defensively.
Truthfully, I couldn’t cook anything but mashed potatoes without ruining it.Even toast was pushing it for me, and the toaster had a timer that would supposedly help keep the bread from burning.Supposedly.As I’d learned over the years, any appliance that claimed to make cooking easier just hadn’t met me yet.I could prove that even the most fail-proof product wasn’t applicable foreveryone.
What could I say?It was a gift, and a curse.But mostly a curse.Especially right now, with Colt and his judgy, “I have a meal plan and cook like a pro” self sitting across from me.
When I couldn’t handle his stare burning into me any longer, I finally met his eyes in defiance, my voice snapping a bit more than I’d intended.“What?”
The corner of his mouth inched upward as he leaned back in mock surrender.“I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s the thing, Colt.You don’thaveto say anything.Your” —I gestured vaguely to encompass all of him— “you-nesssays it all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I ground my teeth, a million responses flying past my eyes.Amidst the jabs—truthful as they were—something he’d said during the class broke through.Easily the nicest thing you’ve said to me the entire time we’ve known each other—and it was a simple thank you.That was it.He thought that was the nicest thing I’d ever said to him, which was obviously ludicrous.
And yet, it gave me pause.The doubt that came with it was enough to keep my retorts to myself for now.
I’d said please and thank you to him before, right?I wasn’t uncivilized and especially not in front of the other squad members.But maybe he was referring to the times it was just the two of us?Even then, he had to be exaggerating.
Right?
As much as my tongue itched to tell him how insufferable he was, how conceited, condescending, and superior he was, I held it back.He’d saved me during the class, even if he’d sullied it minutes later.The point remained, he still had.So, as much as it pained me, I wouldn’t let him have it.Not tonight.
And, no, the fact that he’d shared his real meals thus far had nothing to do with it.
Mostly.
I let out my breath in a resigned hiss.I may repay him with silence for now, but if I stuck around, Heaven knows my resolve would crumble the longer I was around him.“It means I’m going to bed.”
He frowned as I heaved myself out of my chair.“Lex?—”
“I’ll write down what I need and get it to you before you go.”I hesitated at the end of the hall, clenching and unclenching my fists as I practically had to force the next words out.“And… thank you.”
He pursed his lips, the muscle in his jaw flickering.It was his contemplative face.The one he got whenever he sifted through mountains of information looking for the tiny thread to connect it all.The same one he got when observing suspects in the interrogation room.Analyzing them.
And you could bet I wasn’t going to stick around for him to analyzeme.This was a one-time favor he didn’t even realize he’d received, and I wasn’t going to wait for him to jump to all the wrong conclusions about it.
This war between us was far from over.
CHAPTERELEVEN
I AWOKE WITH a start,my muscles tensing.Something had woken me up.
There.A faint knocking.What in the world?
A quick glance at my phone told me it was too early for Colt to have finished his morning workout, and no part of his exercise regimen had made this sound before.Not that I’d put waking me up early past him, but the man wouldn’t break from routine even if death was on the line.Ever since the first morning here when I’d whacked him with the pillow, he’d made sure to grab his workout clothes the night before, which he’d done last night while I’d been pretending to sleep.Considering he didn’t come up to shower before work until seven-fifty, this interruption was about thirty minutes too early.
When another knock sounded, I didn’t bother hiding my groan.Colt wouldn’t get the door, since he was still in the basement working out, likely with headphones and music.Or a podcast about fine etiquette, since he’d seem the type to get pumped up listening to that sort of thing.That left me and me alone to open the door for whatever persistent jerk was knocking on our door inhumanely early on a Monday morning.
