The Bet

Chapter 69

"Kendall, I don't see how this is a huge deal." Adam told me with clear confusion. He moved down the hallway with me quickly. I wouldn't slow down for him because laundry needed be done around the house. I held the wood basket at my hip as I moved into my guest room. Which magically turned into our room. He'd practically moved out of his room and into mine. I'm still not sure that it was a wise choice, but at the time he made all of it sound like it made complete sense.

"I don't see how you can even think it's not." I replied. I squatted down to pick up some of Adam's things and threw it into the basket. If it wasn't for me, this whole floor would be in a sea of Adam's clothing. I could loose my hopes and dreams on this floor. "You know for once it would be great if you pick up your shit once in awhile. I'm almost ankle deep. This is a new record." My tone was bleeding in sarcasm. But it was driving me to slow insanity.

"You know we've got help for that right?"

I snapped my head over to look at him. He leaned against the threshold boredly as if he had no concern as to what I just said. Adam looked down at me with a slightly raised brow. "What help?" I asked slowly. I was holding one of Adam's shirts into my hand as I drilled my eyes into him.

"You know, the help. The maids and butlers." He listed slowly as if I dropped a few IQ points during this conversation. "We've got quiet a few." He added.

I only stared at him with blank expression. As I gripped tightly on his shirt. "I have been in this place for months. And I haven't seen nor heard a single maid or butler in this damn museum you call a house." I replied. "Where the hell do you hide them? In the cabinets or something?" I interrogated. I looked under the bed for the effect. Adam broke out into an open laugh. For some odd reason his laughter taunted me.

"They aren't here on weekends-"

"What about weekdays?" I cut him off. He only gave me a look because I interrupted him. It was a mixure of annoyance and blankness. "Continue." I said like a reprimanded child.

"Thank you." He said patiently. "They aren't here on the weekends because I want to give them days off. They are here on weekdays but they come when we leave for school. But leave when we arrive back. Which is usually around five." He explained before folding his arms.

All those times where I never made up my bed, it was made for me. When I had a few dishes in the sink that I promised myself I would get back to, they were already cleaned in the morning. I always assumed that Adam did all of that. But it was them-the help. I felt like I just discovered proof of a myth. "You mean to tell me, I've been picking up your shit for weeks but you had people doing it all along?" I asked as I gritted my teeth. I made food and cleaned his clothes, folded his things and organized them. And he didn't say a word.

Adam only gave me a smile that only mocked me. "Well you looked so cute being like a little housewife and all. I didn't have the heart to tell you." He replied. His tone sounded teasing. That did it for me.

I chucked the shirt at his direction. I can not believe he did that. Then his pants were aimed and fired. I grabbed anything I could find. A shoe was in my peripheral vision. Which I threw perfectly at his head.

"Mother fucker-" He hissed in pain as he tried to dodge the shoe with no success. "Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry-Kendall, no. Put the clock down." He said in a low tone. There was a small pocket of blood dripping down his forehead from the shoe that had a hell of an edge. I withdrew my urge to throw the nightstand clock at him. But I still held it high, ready for aim. "Now who's fault is it that you've been acting like wife since we've been living together?" He asked quickly. I assume he's still afraid of the weapon I'm holding.