Page 105 of Played By Design

I head for the garage door, pulling it open. The overhead light flickers on, illuminating the vast empty space in the middle. I check the far wall for an outlet.

There’s an open one by the workbench.

I can order a freezer. Have it delivered. Plug it in.

Problem solved.

I close the garage door and return to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Kain calls from the living room.

I ignore him and pull out my phone, opening the delivery app. Freezers are expensive, but Kain needs ice packs, and I need a place to put them. The logic is sound.

“Reef.”

I keep scrolling.

“Bunny.”

I find a well-rated chest freezer. Seven cubic feet. Stainless steel. Same-day delivery if I pay extra.

I tap order, autoload the payment information, and mark the quest as in progress.

When I walk back into the living room, Kain is reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

I launch myself across the room.

My hand closes around the remote a half-second before his fingers reach it.

I clutch it to my chest and step back, panting. “No screens.”

Kain’s hand drops to the cushion. “I was going to put on music.”

“Music has a screen.”

“Not if I use the speaker.”

“The remote has a screen.”

He stares at me. “The remote has buttons.”

“Backlit buttons. With tiny LEDs. That’s a screen.”

His jaw tightens. “Do you expect me to sit on the couch for seventy-two hours, doing nothing?”

I reach into the pocket of my hoodie and pull out my phone. “I downloaded audiobooks.”

His eyebrows lift.

“Six of them.” I scroll through the list. “The new horror by that author you love. The space opera series you were talking about last month. One about shipwrecks. And a guitar biography.”

I lift my chin. “I know what you like.”

His shoulders ease, and he pats the empty space beside him. “Come sit. You can pick which one we start with.”

I don’t move.

“Bunny.” He drops into the deep rumble he uses when he’s tired or wants something. “Come here.”