Chapter 173 

Just when Lizetta thought she was about to be devoured by Remington on the couch with no escape, everything went dark 

Tums out, Remington had chucked his shirt over her head. By the time Lizetta yanked the shirt away, the guy was already at the bathroom door, throwing some shade her way. 

*Better think about what you’re gonna spill later!” 

He ducked into the bathroom, and the sound of running water filled the space. 

Lizetta sprang up and dashed for the door, but whatever trick Remington had pulled on it, she couldn’t crack it after fiddling with it for ages. 

When Remington emerged from the bathroom in his robe, Lizetta was slumped on the couch, having thrown In the towel. 

Remington, toweling off his wet hair, sauntered over. His robe was tied loosely, and that just–showered vibe made him seem even more dangerous and imposing. 

Not daring to look too long. Lizetta ducked her head and scooted over. No sooner had she settled down than something landed on her lap. 

A hairdryer. 

She glanced over at Remington, who was now lounging against the back of the couch, and commanded, 

“Come and dry my hair.” 

“Can’t you do it yourself?” 

Sometimes the guy could be so lazy 

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Even though he was religious about his one–hour workout every day, he often couldn’t be bothered to dry his hair after a shower, so he would just give it a quick rub and call it a day. 

Back in the day, Lizetta would always worry he’d catch a cold or end up with some old man’s ailment, so she’d follow him around, with hairdryer in hand, and nagged him to use it. 

When he found it too bothersome and didn’t cooperate, she’d press him into the couch and do it for him. 

Sometimes, she’d even kneel by the bed and dry his hair while he slept; the buzzing sound never woke him up, but rather helped him sleep deeper. 

This sudden rush of memories sent a wave of mixed feelings through Lizetta. 

She stayed put, while Remington’s eyes flicked open to look at her. 

“Aren’t you gonna take responsibility for what you’ve done?” 

As his words could easily be taken the wrong way, Lizetta was left speechless. 

He drawled again, “Or would you rather serve me in bed?” 

Lizetta felt even more speechless. 

Forget it; drying hair is way better than having a breakup shag with him. 

She stood up, plugged in the hairdryer, and walked behind the couch to help him. 

The warm air brushed through his hair tips as Lizetta reached out to tousle his wet locks, but her fingers paused. 

10:45 1 

Gold 

He had showered for quite a while, with cold water all along. 

She frowned subconsciously, but she, not being naive anymore, knew why he’d taken a cold shower. 

Talk about a breakup shag, it was clearly just to scare her. 

He hadn’t planned on hurting or forcing her after all. 

She felt a mix of sourness and swelling in her heart, and she couldn’t tell if she was relieved or tensed up. 

At that moment, Lizetta paradoxically wished Remington could be a bit harsher with her. 

“Figured out your explanation yet?” 

The man lying there suddenly spoke up, which snapped Lizetta back to the task at hand. She continued to work on his hair, drying it with focus. 

“What do I need to explain?” 

Remington suddenly opened his eyes, and as Lizetta looked down, their eyes met–his deep gaze, ΠΟΥ seemingly chilled by the cold water, was piercing and sharp. 

Lizetta’s breath hitched, and she averted her gaze. 

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“You’re not hiding anything from me?” Remington scoffed. 

Lizetta’s eyelashes fluttered, “What do you mean?” 

She wasn’t sure which secret Remington was alluding to; there were quite a few things she was keeping 

from him. 

Seeing her playing tough, Remington chuckled, “At Dories‘, were you really just interpreting? Was it really worth making such a fuss over a part–time job–gone bad that you had to make sure Evelina swallowed that sleeping pill again?”