Page 69 of The Price of Ice

“Sure,” Levy agreed, and Kallen grabbed the remote and didn’t look at him.

He made no promises he’d have to break, and he asked for none in return that couldn’t be freely given.

Chapter 27

They’d ended up going to bed a little later than usual, and Kallen had been too distracted by the bed hewasn’tsleeping in to think of much but the oblivion sleep would bring.

So the next morning, Brad shook him awake and Kallen startled so hard, he nearly fell over.

The nurse stepped away. “What—”

Kallen squinted at him. “Sorry.” He raised a palm, as much to block the light as to ask for time.

“This is new,” Brad said slowly, but he was already recovering the amused lilt that characterised most of his speech.

Sitting up was automatic, but now it felt awkward of all things. “Yeah,” he admitted, blinking fast to try and wake up fully. “I... I need coffee.”

Brad laughed. “Glad not everything’s changed!” He glanced around the room. “You don’t need the chair anymore?” he guessed when he didn’t find it. “Do you need help getting to the kitchen?”

He swallowed, unsure, then shook his head. Maybe Brad was going to call Management ten minutes from now and update them on the development, but there was nothing Kallen could do about it if he did. “No.”

Somehow, it’d been much easier to be certain yesterday when Levy had been doubting and it’d all been theoretical.

“Okay, get sorted. I’ll make the coffee.”

WHEN KALLEN MADE ITto the kitchen ten minutes later, Brad was sipping at his own coffee, sitting on one of the high stools.

“These are amazingly comfortable,” he commented.

There was another cup for Kallen across from him, perfectly doctored—it was the kind of attention to detail Brad seemed instinctively adept at. Someone might have claimed it was a classic omega trait, but Kallen knew he himself was more likely to panic if he was asked to remember an acquaintance’s drink order.

“Think they are designer or something.”

Brad nodded, but didn’t speak. His silence felt miraculous as Kallen sat across from him and started drinking, closing his eyes for the first few sips to savour it fully. And to hide. He hadn’t changed his mind about going home without the chair, but it was quite different to risk being discovered than to outright know the White Cats management could be calling him within the hour with some demand.

He’d say no, he’d promised himself that and he had to trust he’d stick to his guns. But even so, even hearing what they would want him to do felt dangerous.

“So... You were right,” he said at last, tracing the rim of his cup with his thumb as slowly as he could make himself. “I’d rather walk than play.” He couldn’t look up from the breakfast bar. The words were no longer stabbing at him, but they dragged across a tender wound. “I decided yesterday that I was going home. And then...” He shrugged.

“Makes sense,” the nurse agreed.

“I should have warned you.”

“You don’t have my number,” Brad pointed out, and that shocked him into looking up. “So you’d have had to tell your team managers.”

Kallen couldn’t speak, but Brad was still watching him, beginning to frown, a disconcerting expression on his face. “Hey, man. Team Kal here, remember?”

He’d said it a lot, sure, but they barely knew each other, and this was Brad’sjob. A job he loved, that much was clear by his patience and good humour.

“But you don’t report to me.”

Brad shrugged. “Not really here to report,” he said. “My instructions are more about showers and changing beds every few days and making nutritious meals to maintain muscle mass.” This last had a layer of sarcasm so thick on it that Kallen almost smiled. Brad seemed to catch it. “Don’t tell them about the chips, yeah?”

“You ate most of them,” he pointed out, because even when he tried to be an arsehole to his body, he really couldn’t get into greasy food.

“Doing you a favour,” Brad shot back with half a smile.

Kallen wished he could just smile back and joke about it. “But if I ask you not to come back tomorrow, you’d have to tell them why.”

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