Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 145

Lawrence remembered how he’d laughed for ages, only stopping when Bonnie’s patience finally snapped. Clutching a pillow, he escaped into the bathroom for cover.

The bathtub would have to do for the night. The glass wall was see-through, blinds drawn on the inside, and beyond that was the bedroom. He had no idea if Bonnie had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t about to risk going back out there.

On both sides, the door handles were wrapped in layer after layer of tissue, held tight with one of Bonnie’s hair ties. She’d drawn a giant red X across the tissue, smearing lipstick until the mark looked almost angry.

She’d actually used up a whole tube of lipstick just for this—just to make sure he couldn’t sneak out without her knowing. No matter how careful he was, once he touched it, there’d be no putting it back the way it was. Bonnie even took photos of her masterpiece so she could check every detail in the morning.

Just thinking about how serious she’d looked, bent over and concentrating so hard as she colored in that thick red X, made Lawrence grin.

A pillow suddenly flew from the bed, thudded against the glass, and rattled the blinds. He managed to call out, half-laughing, half-begging for forgiveness, promising he wouldn’t push it anymore.

When morning came, he lounged in the bathtub, opening and closing the blinds out of pure mischief. Through the glass, he watched Bonnie sleep. She looked so calm, tucked onto her side, only half her face peeking out.

He knocked gently. Bonnie blinked awake, rubbing her eyes, her hair a wild mess, shoulders wrapped tight in her jacket. Another laugh slipped out of him. He mouthed, “Can I come out now?”

She just looked at him, sleepy and confused, face blushing as she tossed another pillow in his direction. Her glare was more adorable than intimidating.

Lawrence would never forget the feeling in that moment. It was like his old defenses had crumbled, his carefully protected heart sliding away under crashing waves and leaving him—just himself—soft and warm for her.

Inevitably, it would turn messy. He’d lose control, covering her in lipstick smudges until both of them looked like they’d been stamped everywhere. Bonnie would sometimes cry from embarrassment, but she always dove right back into the mischief with him.

He’d bought her so many lipsticks over time, but she hardly ever wore real makeup. Those marks she left on him, and the way she kept him at arm’s length—it was always half a joke, half flirting, and all sweetness.

That was then.

Now… Lawrence leaned his forehead against the cold security door, staring at the lipstick mark that hadn’t yet dried. His eyes stung so badly it hurt to keep them open.

Now, Bonnie really was keeping him out.