Dear Husband (VegasPete)

Chapter 7

Did he say he wouldn't take advantage of Pete's kindness?

Well, he lied. It turned out he enjoyed this accidental privilege too much.

Vegas hugged his pillow while shamelessly knocking on Pete's room. No one answered the door at first, so Vegas knocked harder. This time, Pete finally answered the door.

"What?!?" Pete fumingly barked at him.

Vegas grinned, "Can I sleep in your bedroom?"

"It's been few days already, Vegas. It was supposed to be a one-time thing." Pete sighed exasperatedly, "Is it time for you to sleep in your own room?"

"Do we have to do this again?" Vegas replied, "I slept on the couch then you told me to sleep in your room because that's how I remember it the last few days."

"Not this time." Pete shook his head, seeming to reassure himself, "This time, you sleep in your room or on the sofa." With that, Pete closed the door.

Vegas frowned a little then dragged his feet to the sofa. He threw his body with his pillow under him then began to count with his eyes closed.

...51, 52, 53

A door abruptly opened.

"Argh, I really hate myself." Pete whined in frustration but that only made Vegas smile.

He hurriedly got up from the sofa and half-ran towards Pete's room while Pete still hadn't closed the door. A wide grin appeared on his face. He could sleep soundly again.

Pete gave him a snide side glance once he was inside but then proceeded to sit at his work desk with his laptop open. It looked like he was designing something.

"Don't worry, I won't disturb your work." He said as he walked closer to see Pete's work more clearly, "Don't work too much—"

"—because my job isn't worth it." Pete continued as he rolled his eyes, "You don't need to rub it in my face every time."

Vegas chuckled, "Glad that finally stuck in your brain."

"This is not for my job." Pete said while busying himself with the design, "My friend asked me to design the interior of his house."

Vegas blinked, "So you're taking a side job now?"

Pete bit his lips. It seemed like Vegas was correct but the man just didn't want to admit it, "it's just a small job..."

But Vegas bet the pay was greater than Pete's part-time job. Not wanting to embarrass Pete by finally following Vegas' advice, he decided to drop the topic when his eyes caught something more interesting on Pete's work desk.

Vegas threw his pillow on the bed then grabbed a brochure from the table. It was a brochure for a massage chair. He never thought Pete would think about buying it, but it was good for himself too.

"Should we buy it?" Vegas offered, "We can put it in the living room."

"Well, yeah, if you want it..." Pete shot him a disinterested look before returning to his work again.

"You don't want it? Why do you have the flyer?"

Pete took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, "I'm considering buying it for my father's birthday."

Vegas was busy so he completely forgot the birthday party was coming up. A high-quality massage chair, it was very well useful and thoughtful gift considering what an ass Pete's father was, "It's too good." He blurted out without meaning to.

"You think so?" Pete looked at him, "It's not like he's going to use any gifts I give it to him."

Vegas raised his eyebrows, "Then why do you buy something for him?"