Kain Locke
"Shouldn't you still be in bed? Resting and recuperating?" I asked, arching a brow as he walked closer. He had a shirt on now—sloppy and wrinkled like he'd pulled it on just to hide the gauze. It hung over his frame, doing a piss-poor job of masking how battered he still looked.
But damn if the man didn't still carry himself like he owned the very space we are in. Technically he does.
Kael gave me a look. That quiet, unreadable look that always made it feel like he could see too much. "I was. But then I heard you guys. " He said, lifting Brian up and kissing his nose gently, making the kid giggle. "Couldn't sleep after that."
"Don't tell me you want to play ball?" I asked, folding my arms, trying to sound unimpressed even though the sight of him holding Brian like that was already doing dangerous things to my chest.
Kael smirked, that irritating, slow kind of smirk that always made me feel like he was seeing straight through me. "Should that be any problem?"
