Jay's POV
Keifer insisted on driving us .
Hex didn't argue, which was suspicious on its own.
The car ride was mostly quiet. I was in the passenger seat, trying not to move my leg too much. Hex sat in the back, scrolling through something on his phone like he wasn't listening to us.
He was absolutely listening to us.
When we reached the house, Keifer parked smoothly.
Before I could even open my door—
He was already there.
My door opened.
And then—
He bent down and lifted me.
Completely.
Both arms.
Like I weighed nothing.
"Keifer."
"Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
"Kidnapping you."
From behind us, Hex's voice floated out.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny."
Keifer looked over my shoulder. "Come on, go open the door."
Hex stared at him for a second.
Then actually walked ahead and opened it.
Traitor.
The moment we stepped inside—
Explosion.
Aunty Gemma gasped. "What happened?!"
Jeana rushed over. "Why is he carrying you?!"
Andy blinked. "Did she faint?"
Aries squinted. "Is this dramatic entrance necessary?"
Angelo just stared at Keifer like he was evaluating him.
I sighed. "It's just a scratch."
"Scratch?!" Jeana repeated. "You're being carried like a princess in a hospital drama!"
Keifer answered calmly, "She didn't see a stone and scratched her leg when she fell."
I turned my head slowly toward him.
"That's the story?"
He smiled innocently. "You want me to tell them you fought masked attackers?"
"…Continue."
Jeana folded her arms. "You need to be more careful."
"Yes, jeana," I replied flatly.
A small scolding followed. Mostly dramatic sighing. Some head shaking.
I didn't care.
Keifer didn't put me down.
He just nodded politely through it all like he had attended this lecture before.
Then he carried me upstairs.
Hex followed halfway, then stopped.
"I'm not watching this," he muttered, disappearing into his room.
Smart choice.
Inside my room, Keifer gently placed me on the bed.
He didn't step back immediately.
"You know," he said, "this kidnapping thing is easier than expected."
"You're still in my house."
"Details."
I lightly tugged his collar.
He leaned closer automatically.
Peck.
Right on his lips.
He blinked.
"That's payment," I said.
"For?"
"Carrying me."
He looked very pleased with that arrangement.
"Then I'll continue helping."
"I figured."
I carefully stood up.
He instantly moved closer like I was about to collapse dramatically.
"I can walk."
"You limp."
"It's elegant."
"It's tragic."
I grabbed my pajamas and turned toward the bathroom.
He raised a brow. "You're showering?"
"Yes."
"With the injury?"
"It's a scratch, not a battlefield amputation."
He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. I'll wait."
"You're staying?"
He leaned against the wall casually. "I'm making sure you don't fall again."
I paused.
"You really think I'm that fragile?"
"No."
"Then why?"
He shrugged lightly. "Because I want to."
My heartbeat did something unnecessary again.
I shut the bathroom door before he could see my expression.
—
When I came out in my pajamas, hair damp and falling over my shoulders, he was sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling through his phone.
He looked up.
Paused.
Then blinked once.
"You look… softer."
"That's called not wearing a mask."
He stood up immediately and grabbed the towel from my hand.
"Sit."
"You're very bossy for someone in my house."
"And you're very stubborn for someone injured."
I sat on the edge of the bed.
He started gently drying my hair.
Slow. Careful.
The room felt smaller.
Warmer.
He plugged in the hair dryer.
The soft hum filled the silence.
He stood behind me, one hand lightly brushing through my hair while the warm air flowed.
"You're enjoying this too much," I said.
"Absolutely."
I tilted my head back slightly to look at him.
He leaned down just enough.
Peck.
Another one.
He grinned. "What was that for?"
"Hair service."
"I should open a salon."
"Don't quit your day job."
He finished drying my hair, fingers brushing through it one last time.
"You fight like a warrior," he said casually, "but you sit like a kitten."
"I will push you out of this room."
"You can't. You limp."
I grabbed his wrist lightly and pulled him closer.
He stumbled forward just enough.
Peck.
"Mocking fee," I said.
He laughed softly.
Then he gently helped me lie back against the pillows.
Tucked the blanket slightly around me.
"You're overdoing it."
"Probably."
He sat beside me.
Quiet now.
No teasing.
Just comfortable.
"Rest," he said.
"I will."
He leaned down and brushed his lips softly against mine again.
Not rushed.
Not dramatic.
Just warm.
When he pulled back, he looked at me like he wanted to say more.
But didn't.
Instead, he stood up.
"I'm leaving before Hex reports me."
"He would."
"Definitely."
At the door, he paused.
"If you fight again without telling me…"
"I'll what?"
"I'll carry you again."
"That's not a threat."
"It is if I do it in front of everyone."
I laughed softly.
"Goodnight, kidnapper."
He smiled.
"Goodnight."
The door closed.
The room settled into silence.
My leg hurt a little.
My heart didn't.
And somewhere downstairs, I could hear Hex moving around.
Life was still complicated.
Still dangerous.
But tonight?
It felt simple.
And that was enough.
End of Chapter. 💙