Page 106 of Kai
Kai tosses the towel into the hamper.
Then he returns.
And for one horrible second I wonder if he's back to say bye, to tell me he’s done and going to leave now.
A sense of awkward dread fills me.
Oh my God, what if he thanks me?
Makes an excuse?
Or worse, tells me he'll call?
What if he comes in here and says something awful like that?
I brace myself for it.
But he just walks right back to my bed.
Pulls back the covers.
And climbs in beside me.
Relief hits so hard I nearly laugh.
His hand finds mine instantly and he pulls me into his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Like it belongs there.
Like he's been doing it for years.
His thumb brushes softly across my knuckles.
“What happened?”
I blink.
“What?”
His eyes narrow.
“You disappeared.”
I force a laugh.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
The word is gentle.
Affectionate.
Dangerously knowing.
I stare at the ceiling.
Unable to look at him.
