continued from here Wilson was lying on his bed, head propped up onto his pillow with his shoeless feet crossed at the ankles and a book in his hands.
He wasn't expecting House to turn up, and he wasn't about to go looking for him if House didn't turn up.
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He set his book flat on his chest and kept his eyes on the door, waiting for House to come back out again.
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He sauntered back into the main room as casually as possible. "Must be a good book," he mommented, tilting his head to try to read the title.
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"What was that you hid in the bathroom?" he casually asked as though he was making conversation about the weather.
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