Page 33 of When You Became Mine

I trained my gaze at a spot above her head and leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been in the bathroom for two. Fucking. Hours.”

She huffed and jabbed a finger in my chest. “Did you hear me? You. Broke. My. Laptop.”

I blinked and looked at her, trying my best to keep my eyes focused on her very angry face. “Who have you been talking to?”

“No one!” she snapped.

I took a step back and finally looked her over. Her hair was wet, plastered to her face and neck, and she was dripping water all over the floor. Mascara was smeared under her eyes. She looked like a drowned raccoon.

I smirked. “Usually when people take a bath, they look better when they get out. You look like a raccoon that got stuck out in the rain.” I gestured to her face and the look she gave me could have melted steel. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I held my hands up in surrender. “Look, I don’t want to sound like a dick here—”

“Well, you do,” she huffed, pulling the towel closer around her body.

“But you can’t spend hours in the bathroom. I’ve had to use the toilet for over an hour now.”

She blinked at me. “Why the hell didn’t you say something then?”

Because I was an asshole and was looking for something to complain about. “Well, I figured you would be out of there soon. I didn’t know that bath time was an all-day affair.”

“I was studying. On my laptop. It was my professor’s lecture that you heard! Jesus Christ, Lawson!”

She turned, her wet hair flying, and droplets hit me in the face. Snatching the computer from the counter, she held it out to me.

“When you pounded on the door like a, a, a raging lunatic, I dropped it in the tub! It’s ruined.” She gave the device a shake. Water ran out of it.

Shit. That thing was toast.

“What the hell were you doing with your laptop in the tub with you anyway?” I snapped. “Please, God, tell me you didn’t have it plugged in.”

She let out a strangled cry and stormed past me, her feet squeaking on the hardwood floors. She stomped the entire way down the hall to her room and then whirled back to me.

“The speakers aren’t loud enough on the laptop for me to hear it unless I’m holding it.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “And I’ve had a terrible day. I just wanted to relax. But I needed to study.” I couldn’t tell if it was water or tears, but a single drop rolled down her face. “And now, I have no laptop. And apparently, no privacy either.”

She turned on her heel and marched into her room, slamming the door behind her. I winced when I heard the laptop clatter on the floor.

Standing alone in the hall, I knew I should go apologize. But I wasn’t lying when I’d said I’d had to use the bathroom for the last hour. I gave her door one last glance before I stepped into the bathroom.

There was water covering the floor and I had to grab the sink to keep from hitting the floor as I slid across the narrow space. “Dammit, Piper,” I grumbled, grabbing a towel from the rack and mopping up yet another of her messes.

Once I finished, I debated again going and knocking on her door and at least offering to look at the laptop. But, just like with the rift between us, I knew it was probably beyond the point of repair.

“You still not speaking to me?”

She turned slowly, two plates in her hands, and glared at me. She didn’t answer, but handed me one of the plates, and then pushed past me to go sit at the table. I looked down at the food and frowned. I couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, and I wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t trying to poison me.

With a heavy sigh, I followed her and sat opposite of her. “It’s been two days and you haven’t said a single word, Piper. Come on. I told you I was sorry about your laptop.”

Piper continued to glare at me, stabbing her fork aimlessly at the food on her plate. When she finally speared a stalk of broccoli, she shoved it in her mouth and chewed, all the while her irritated stare never leaving my face.

It had been the most awkward two days of my life. And that was saying a lot considering I’d grown up a gangly computer nerd. I’d started out apologizing profusely. When that hadn’t worked, I’d tried to reciprocate the silence. But that hadn’t worked either, and oddly enough, I’d found I wasn’t enjoying the quiet nearly as much as I had before she’d moved in.

Despite the fact she wasn’t speaking to me, she’d still brought enough takeout home for both of us last night. And tonight, she’d cooked and plated two meals.

I took a bite of whatever this was on my plate and the moment it hit my taste buds, I froze.

She was trying to poison me.

Piper was still staring at me while she chewed and I didn’t want to piss her off any more than I had by spitting out whatever the hell this was, so I chewed quickly and swallowed, hoping that the one bite wasn’t enough to contract food poisoning. Grabbing my water bottle, I took a long swig out of it and then said, “Pip, this is really—”

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