Gripping the protein shake, I took my bag into the laundry room and sorted my training gear into the washing machine. Hockey stuff stank. Other people’s sweat stank. All of it stank. It neededwashed immediately. Sure, we had housekeepers who came and handled most of the laundry on a daily basis, but I’d never subject any poor soul to my training gear.
After, I headed upstairs. It was quiet, too quiet. I knocked on Selena’s door and waited a moment. She’d be pissed off that I’d gone ahead and removed anything that she might use to further destroy herself. Except for the vibrator. I’d taken that just to see if she’d ask me for it back. Because I was a sick fuck, and clashing with her had become something to look forward to in my entirely predictable days.
“What?” a voice shouted from inside her room.
I waited for her to open it. After long enough, she did.
She was wearing the last outfit she had that matched her emo, zombie cheerleader style. Clearly, what she had been wearing when she’d gone out this morning before I’d audited her wardrobe.
“Good evening to you, too.” I smirked at her.
She seemed to hate that the most.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “If you’re waiting for me to ask where my stuff is, you’ll be disappointed. I don’t care.”
“Good, because you’re not getting it back.”
She glared at me. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man ten times over.
“And the prescription pills? I mean, we both know you’re an asshole, but I didn’t realize that you’re a doctor, too, who can decide what medication a person should take. Wow, so accomplished.”
“The pills say clearly on them, not to be consumed with alcohol.” I gave her an up-and-down once-over. Those ripped, aggressively ugly outfits might irritate me, but I couldn’t deny she looked good in them. But then, this girl would look good in a paper bag. Just another fucking annoying thing about her.
The pills were interesting. There were a fuck ton of them. That wasn’t a normal situation. Selena and her mum were hiding something, and I wanted to know what it was.
“Right, so… even if I’m not drinking, how am I supposed to take them?”
“You can come to me and I’ll dispense them, once I’m sure you’re not mixing them with alcohol, or I don’t know, cough syrup.”
She rolled her eyes, and my palm itched to spank the brat right out of her. I’d never met a more defiant woman in my life.
“Like I’d drink cough syrup.” She was going for nonchalant, but her cheeks were going red. A dead giveaway.
“Hmm, imagine that, it would be crazy, wouldn’t it?” I agreed.
I didn’t know for sure that Selena had fallen that low, but it was a move my sister had pulled frequently.
“And my clothes? Am I supposed to wear the same thing every day?”
“No, you’re supposed to wear the stuff in the closet.”
“I’d rather die,” she announced, raising her chin and looking for all the world like she might take a swing at me. So much defiance in such a tiny package.
“Please, this house is no place for amateur dramatics. Save it for the stage, little heathen.”
“The stage? What are you talking about?” she muttered and dropped my gaze.
I knew she was interested in the stage because of the Shakespeare play she had on her nightstand, with a flyer about auditions tucked inside.
“I suppose that being in the drama club is off-limits as well to the fun police?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Knock yourself out. Being a thespian is always acceptable, provided you keep the drama reserved for opening night and not our house.”
“You are the most irritating person I’ve ever met,” she accused, then stepped back into her room and slammed the door.
“Well, that went well.” Cal lounged in his doorway.
“It did, didn’t it?”
