NOVPUB
Chapter 60: Open it already
Kael held the envelope between two fingers, the paper crinkling faintly as he turned it over, savoring the weight of it like a magician about to reveal a trick.
Across the table, Rhea leaned forward, amber eyes gleaming with curiosity. Her spoon dangled from her lips, giving her an oddly intense, pouty expression. "Come on," she mumbled around it, voice muffled. "Open it already."
Kael smirked, met her gaze with intentional slowness, and slid his thumb under the flap. A satisfying rip cut through the silence.
He peeked inside, eyes flicking over the contents, and a quiet grin crept across his face—subtle, smug. Without a word, he folded the envelope shut and slipped it into his pocket, leaning back like it meant nothing.
Rhea’s spoon clattered against her bowl. "What? What was that?" Her brows knit, voice sharpening. "Spill it, Kael."
He gave a lazy shrug, his grin only growing.
"I swear to god, if you act mysterious one more time—" she lunged forward, hand poised to snatch the envelope.
Kael pulled it out just in time, flipping it open with a dramatic flourish. A thick wad of crisp bills tumbled onto the table, landing with a soft, rich thud between their half-eaten bowls of stew.
Rhea stared, blinking. "...Why the hell did Harris give you cash? Did you take a loan or something?"
Kael tilted his head, mischief glinting in his hazel eyes. "How do you think I’m gonna keep the Haven running, Rhea? Can’t exactly keep on working part-time. Someone’s gotta manage this circus."
Her frown deepened. "Wait. Wait. You’re saying Harris paid you... for me?"
"Mm-hm," he said, popping the ’m’ with maximum smug. "Hero gig comes with pay. And Harris decided I’m the one responsible for keeping your fire-happy ass alive. This," he tapped the cash pile, "is my bonus."
Her jaw dropped. "That’s my money!"
She reached for the pile, but Kael was faster, snatching it back and holding it just out of reach with a casual flick of his wrist.
"Ah, ah—hands off," he said, grinning. "This funds the food, the gas, the lights, the clothes, the rent and the endless mending of furniture. You want your own cut? Work double time and I will think about it."
She squinted at him, scowling.
Kael pointed a finger at her, mock-accusing. "Didn’t you brag once about that stash you’ve got hidden? Why fuss over this measly cut?"
Rhea froze. Her glare narrowed, sharper now. "Tch," she huffed, slumping back into her chair with a defeated grunt. Her spoon clinked against the bowl as she poked at her stew like a sulky kid.
Kael, delighted, peeled off a single bill and waggled it in the air like a flag of victory. "Tell you what—I’ll buy you puddings with this. Your half."
Rhea puffed her cheeks out, cheeks flushing as her pout went full tsundere. "Cheapskate," she muttered. "Make it at least double the notes. Chocolate. The same kind like before."
"Nope," Kael said, biting into a piece of meat with deliberate satisfaction. "You’re lucky I don’t invoice you for utilities."
Dinner wound down, and the soft clatter of dishes took over as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink.
Rhea scrubbed a bowl, her loose t-shirt clinging damply in spots, riding up with each movement to flash a peek of her black panties beneath. The overhead light cast a warm glow on the steam curling from the faucet.
"How’s it going with Freya?" she asked, not looking at him at first, suds dripping from her fingers as she rinsed another plate.
Kael tilted his head, rinsing a spoon with casual efficiency. "Not bad, actually. She’s starting to crack—slowly. I’ve got something planned for tomorrow that’ll nudge her a little further."
Rhea smirked, glancing over with a sly arch of her brow. "Naughty, perverted schemer. What dirty tricks are you cooking up this time?"
He shrugged, that playful glint flickering in his hazel eyes. "Same stuff I pulled with you. Was it really so bad?"
Her hands stilled for just a moment. A flush crept up her neck, and her amber gaze flicked away, just for a second. "Maybe... maybe not," she muttered, voice softer now, teasing with a twist of something warmer underneath.
Kael chuckled, dipping his fingers in the rinse water and flicking a few droplets at her.
"Asshole!" she yelped, swatting at him with a sudsy hand. Water splashed, laughter rising, the kitchen momentarily a battlefield of flicks and half-hearted jabs. The air between them buzzed—not quite romantic, not quite innocent.
When it settled, they stood closer than before, shoulders nearly brushing.
"Thanks for the stew," she said quietly, eyes on the sink.
"Anytime," Kael replied, still smiling.
They finished up, parting ways to their bedrooms as the Haven settled into its usual nighttime hush. A warm breeze stirred the string lights in the hall, and everything else faded into stillness.
Kael lay sprawled on his bed, still half-dressed in jeans and a faded green shirt, the envelope of cash still tucked snug in his back pocket. He hadn’t even made it under the covers yet, just letting the day wear off him inch by inch.
Then—knock knock.
Soft. Hesitant.
Fifteen minutes, maybe less, since they’d split.
The door creaked open.
Rhea stepped in, barefoot and quiet, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting her in bronze and gold.
Her loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder, the hem barely skimming the tops of her thighs. Black panties peeked beneath, plain and worn, but the way they clung made it feel anything but. Her fiery red hair was a mess—wild.
She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest, the shift of fabric doing little to hide the gentle curve of her figure. "My room stinks," she said, her voice low and a little whiny, like the day had finally caught up to her. "Still reeks."
Kael pushed up on his elbows, smirking. "There’s air freshener in the hall. Use it." 𝖓𝔬𝖛𝔭𝔲𝖇.𝔠𝔬𝖒
"Tried," she muttered, stepping closer. "Made it worse. Now it’s chemical and sewer. Double hell." Her tone was casual, but there was something under it—something quieter, more deliberate. "Can I crash here instead?"
He eyed her, one brow raised, lips twitching at the corners.
She was a mess, sure, but it was that kind of beautiful mess that didn’t need effort to pull you in. "Your call," he said, voice lazy, smooth. "Just don’t stink up my sheets."
She rolled her eyes, but a tired laugh slipped out as she padded over and climbed onto the bed.
The mattress dipped with her weight, her thigh brushing his as she settled on her side, her shirt riding up just a little more. She smelled like soap now—clean and warm—and something a little sweeter that hadn’t been there earlier.
Maybe it was just her.
"Comfy?" he asked, still watching her from the corner of his eye.
"Better than sewage and sad spray," she murmured, already tucking herself against the pillow.
Kael didn’t say anything more. Just laid back, the silence stretching comfortably between them, warm and full of things unspoken.
