Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 28: Shopping 2

"Wanna come pick out some clothes with me?"

Kael asked, voice low and casual as he leaned against the kitchen counter, suds dripping from his hands onto the cracked tiles, the faint steam of lunch still clinging to the air.

Rhea paused mid-scrub, her sponge hovering over the sink, water trickling slow as she turned to face him, amber eyes glinting through damp crimson strands that stuck to her neck from their earlier tumble.

Her brow crease—half-surprised, half-confused. Then her face split into a grin, wide and unguarded, a burst of light that bounced off the Haven's battered walls. "Hell yeah, I'm in," she said, voice ringing with a thrill that echoed loud, and she tossed the sponge down with a wet slap, suds splashing his arm as she shook off the chore like it burned.

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Her grin dimmed fast, though, as her fingers brushed the collar locked around her neck—metal cool against her flushed skin—and she stepped closer, amber softening into a plea that carried a hint of play. "Hold on a sec—what about this thing?" she asked, voice dipping low, coaxing as she tilted her head, damp hair swaying gentle against her cheek.

"You can take it off now, right? Come on, Kael—you know you can trust me. I haven't set a single damn thing on fire lately. I didn't even try to run away, and I've had plenty of chances. I've stuck around, hauled your ass with Freya, played nice when I didn't have to. Ditch this leash already—I'm not some feral stray you've got to tie down." Her words flowed smooth, piling up with earnest charm, and she leaned in closer, her chest grazing his arm, amber eyes wide with a mix of hope and tease, daring him to crack.

Kael's hazel gaze narrowed, a grin tugging his lips as he dried his hands on a rag, the rough fabric snagging on his knuckles while he held her stare. "Trust's a heavy ask, Rhea," he said, voice steady but threaded with doubt, stepping back just enough to break her heat. "You're still a wildfire—one stray ember from torching my whole setup. I'm not buying the tame act yet, collar's staying put."

He turned to a drawer, rummaging with a clatter, and pulled out a red scarf—frayed at the ends—a faded cap, and a thin mask, dropping them onto the counter with a soft thud that punctuated his words. "Wear these instead. Keeps your face off the radar, hides that collar—nobody'll peg you out there."

Rhea's pout flared instant, lips pursing full as she glared at the pile, hands planting firm on her hips, the t-shirt riding up to flash a sliver of skin that caught his eye again. "You're joking—I'm not putting on that garbage," she snapped, voice sharp with defiance, amber sparking hot.

He stepped closer, grin sharpening as he loomed over her, the rag dangling loose from his grip while his shadow fell across her. "You're wanted Rhea—can't risk you lighting up the streets with recognition. Gear up, or I lock you in your room and go shop alone... So tell—which one is it?."

Rhea's pout deepened—cheeks puffing out, eyes rolling slow with a dramatic huff—but she muttered a loud curse, punching his arm light enough to sting without marking. "You're a real bastard, you know that?" she grumbled, snatching the scarf, cap, and mask from his hand, her fingers brushing his with a spark of heat that lingered.

She stormed off to change, tugging her torn old pants over the t-shirt—ragged at the knees, patched at the thighs—and wrapped the scarf loose around her neck, cap tilted low, mask dangling free until they reached the door.

Kael slipped into his jacket—leather worn soft, boots scuffed from use—and they stepped out, the Haven's stale air giving way to the city's hum.

The shop hit them with a rush of cool air and soft lights—racks spilling with fabrics, chatter humming low as shoppers milled around—and Rhea's energy shifted, amber glinting eager as she trailed her fingers over cotton and denim, Kael shadowing her with the cart's quiet rattle.

"Three pairs. That's your limit," he said, his voice firm but warm, watching her toss a pair of jeans, a loose shirt, and two tanks into the cart—practical choices, her size, dropped in with a quick nod. She paused, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth, as he nudged her side with his elbow, the soft creak of his jacket punctuating the moment.

"Grab three for Freya too—something she'd wear," he added, and her grin shifted to something mischievous, a glint of playfulness flashing in her eyes as she picked out dark pants, a fitted top, and a sleek jacket—cool tones, sharp lines—and added them to the cart with a flourish.

Kael lifted the fitted top, his brow furrowing as he held it up, the fabric stretching thin under his grip. "Hold up," he said, voice low with doubt. "This won't fit her. Bust's way off."

He curved his palm slow, tracing an imaginary swell—Freya's fuller chest vivid in his mind—and smirked, measuring the air with a knowing tilt. "Nope, too small."

Rhea's head snapped his way, sunglasses slipping down her nose as amber burned through, her lips parting in mock outrage that didn't quite hide a flicker of something sharper. "You filthy pervert," she said, voice loud and laughing, snatching the top back to swap it for a larger size with a huff, her own chest brushing the cart's edge as she leaned over, the motion deliberate.

Kael's chuckle rumbled low, and he wandered off, fingers grazing racks until he stopped at the lingerie section, eyes glinting as he plucked two dresses—white lace, plunging deep to frame a generous bust, and blue satin, slit high to hug curves—tossing them into the cart with a sly grin meant for Freya's taste.

Rhea wheeled around, catching sight of his picks, and her glare flared fresh, amber narrowing through the tint as she crossed her arms tight, pushing her breasts up against the t-shirt in a silent counter. "Pervert's at it again," she said, voice dry with an edge, her stance stiffening for a beat before her smirk crept back.