Whitmore Day Page 11

  “I saw that,” Kara said, sitting down in a nearby chair and propping her feet up on top of Paul’s blanket-covered ankles as she kicked her shoes off and summoned a datapad to her hand from across the room that she pulled up a game on. “Next time you have a breakthrough, tell me or I’m going to kick your ass.”

  A weak telepathic image was sent to her of a crying emoji.

  “10 hours of sleep,” she said firmly. “I’m not letting you up a minute sooner.”

  An angry emoji followed.

  “Tough. That’s what you get for holding out on me, jerk.”

  A clock emoji with the hand on 5 hours followed.

  Kara responded with one of her own…Han Solo frozen in carbonite hanging on the wall.

  A waving white flag responded, then Paul went truly silent as the fibers on the blanket between Kara’s exposed ankles and Paul’s own frayed a bit under her telekinesis, allowing a skin to skin contact that would give her direct monitoring over his body and what parts of his mind were accessible as she worked on level 38 of 3D Binary Tetris while he began his healing process…

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