Page 133 of Played By Design

Kain rises up on one elbow to peer at the clock. “Only four forty-three.”

I curse under my breath. “In the morning?”

He drops back down. “No, at night.”

“Oh! Then we haven’t missed dinner.” Relief pulls me upright, the sheet pooling around my waist. “I’m getting another suppressant. Then we’re ordering food, and you’re taking your evening meds.”

My legs swing over the edge of the bed, but Kain’s hand catches my wrist. “Reef.”

That stops me.

“Are we okay?” he asks, quieter now.

I turn back. Kain lies propped on one elbow, the sheet draped across his hips, his dark hair falling across his forehead. In the dark, I can’t see his cuts and bruises, but I know they’re there.

“You have a user manual for me,” I say.

His thumb strokes my wrist. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Kain sits up, wincing as the movement pulls at his ribs. He settles at the headboard, the sheet sliding to his lap.

“Because when we met, you were fourteen, and you wouldn’t eat anything that wasn’t shaped like a dinosaur or a star.” His mouth quirks. “And you’d forget to sleep for days if I didn’t unplug your computer.”

“So you wrote it down.”

“I wrote everything down.” He lifts my fingers to his lips. “What music helped you work. What made you restless. What foods you’d eat without arguing. What games calmed you down after a bad day.”

He meets my eyes. “It was how I learned to be with you, Reef. My way of figuring out what you needed when you couldn’t always tell me.”

My jaw tightens. “It’s manipulative.”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no shame, and no apology. “It is.”

The admission knocks the fight from me.

“But.” Kain’s fingers tighten around my wrist. “If you truly don’t want something, no amount of nudging can override your stubbornness. You dig your heels in and refuse to budge, and I’m left to find another way.”

That same stubbornness sent Kain to Stackers alone. Because I was hyperfocused on my video game and didn’t want to go with him, but also wanted a Sweet Stack.

He opens my hand to nuzzle my palm. “But I also love your stubbornness. It’s all part of the package.”

The L-word should be turning my insides to squishy goo, but it can’t get past the guilt. It sucker punches me deep in my gut, and my chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe.

“It’s my fault you were hurt,” I whisper.

Kain drops my hand to cup my cheek. “No.”

“I sent you alone. If I’d gone with you⁠—”

“Stop.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “It wasn’t your fault I got attacked. If you’d been there—” He falters. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if they’d hurt you, too. I’m glad you weren’t with me, Bunny. Every time I think about it, I’m grateful.”

He pulls me toward him, and I go, folding into his chest, careful of his ribs. His arms wrap around me, and his mouth finds my hair.

“We’re okay.” His lips move over my hair.

“We’re more than okay.” I bury my nose in his neck and breathe.