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“Oh, he left.”
I put my fork down. “What do you mean he left? He just had this food sitting here and you came over and he left?”
I had no idea what the hell was going on, but Hampton’s half answers were making me crazy.
He shook his head. “I stopped by to drop off the weed eater I borrowed. Lawson told me to stay and wait for you to get home and then he left.” He shrugged and shoved another bite in his mouth.
“Jesus, could you stop eating long enough to tell me why he just so happened to have food from the place we talked about right before fighting and then just left?”
His eyebrows rose, and he smirked. “You and Law were talking about Thai last night before y’all had that cat fight? Hm, interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”
“Nothing.” He put his fork down and smirked. “He also asked me to tell you to check the bathroom when we were done eating. I figured he wanted you to clean up your clothes or something. But now…”
I didn’t have any clothes on the floor. I’d made a point to pick my stuff up after my record setting shower this morning. I pushed away from the table and sprinted down the hall.
There, on the counter, sat a brand-new MacBook and Beats Pill speaker. I snatched them up and ran back down the hall. “Hampton!” I shouted. “Are you messing with me?”
He looked up from the phone that hadn’t left his hand all night. “About what? Whoa, you win a scratch off and not tell me?”
“No, you dummy!” I flopped back into my seat. “This was on the counter in the bathroom. This is what he wanted me to find in the bathroom.”
Hampton smiled. “Ah.”
I frowned. “Ah? Have I entered the twilight zone? You’re barely making any sense and Lawson’s leaving me gifts and Thai food.”
Hampton shrugged. “Guess he felt bad about breaking your laptop and then being an asshole. Although, he’s always an asshole, so he probably doesn’t really feel bad about that.” He shoveled another forkful of noodles in and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone while I sat there dumbfounded.
His phone dinged, and he smiled. “Smith’s done. Gotta go.” Dropping his fork on his now empty plate, he pushed from his chair and came around the table. He wrapped his arms around me and the electronics I was still holding and squeezed. “Thanks for dinner, Pip. I’ll call ya later.”
He waltzed out the door, slamming it behind himself, and left me staring at the remnants of Thai food all over the table. I was beginning to realize why Lawson was always irritated at me for leaving dishes on the stove.
An hour later, I heard the front door open and then shut.
Lawson came around the corner and his eyebrows shot up. “What are you doin’?”
I smiled at him over my shoulder. “Washing the dishes.”
His eyes were still wide as he sauntered over to the counter and propped a hip against it. “Piper Kelley, you’ve been holding out on me. When did you learn to wash dishes?”
The way my name sounded rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down my spine. It shouldn’t have. I was still mad at him for the last few weeks he spent being a jerk. But he’d gotten my favorite dishes. And he’d replaced my laptop. So, the anger I’d been holding onto had begun to dissipate and in its place, a new, stranger feeling had started to creep in. A feeling I didn’t want to think about while I was elbow deep in soapy water. I pushed the thoughts away and rolled my eyes in his direction. “I’ll have you know, I got an A in home-ec in high school.” I boasted, puffing my chest out in mock pride.
He didn’t miss a beat, his voice dry. “You failed home-ec.”
“I did not,” I sputtered.
He chuckled, and the deep sound made my stomach flip. When was the last time I’d heard that? Who knew. “Yes, you did. Mrs. Winslow hated you. You’re lucky she didn’t get you expelled for setting her kitchen on fire.”
“How the hell do you know about that?” I asked. I dried my hands with the dish towel and made a show of hanging it back on the stove before sliding past him to grab the paper containers from the table. I dropped the empty ones in the trash and shoved the ones with leftovers into the fridge, already excited about having it for lunch again tomorrow.
“I also know that the fire was intentional, and not because you accidentally left the water boiling too long.” He winked, and I stared at him open-mouthed. “You hated that old bat as much as she hated you.”
He was right. That teacher should have retired ten years earlier but refused to stop torturing kids with her insistence that a good woman knew how to cook for her man. “How do you know that?” I asked again, this time more urgently.
“I know a lot of things about you,” he murmured, his eyes warm.
I nodded. “Yeah, like my favorite Thai dishes.”
