Spencer Reid didn’t understand why people found casinos exciting. To him, they were just loud rooms with bad lighting, overpriced drinks, and games where people willingly handed over their money without understanding basic probability, cause it wasn’t about luck. It was about math.

Growing up in Las Vegas, he’d learned early how to work the numbers—patterns in roulette, blackjack strategies, the way dice rolls could be predicted if you understood the science. He didn’t gamble often, but when he did, he always won.

And now, as he handed you yet another shopping bag—this one with a gorgeous designer logo—you couldn’t help but stare at him.

You laughed, shaking your head as you looked down at the haul he’d insisted on carrying for you. “This is ridiculous. I don’t need all this!”

“I know you don’t,” he replied with a boyish grin. “But I want you to have it.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You’re spoiling me.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he said as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Do you know how many people lose at these games because they don’t understand the math? I’m just redistributing their losses.”

Dinners at five-star restaurants, surprise gifts showing up at your apartment, spontaneous trips to places you’d only dreamed of. He didn’t just buy you things—he thought about them, always tailoring each gesture to something you’d love.

But it wasn’t just the money. It was the way he looked at you when you tried on the dress he insisted you needed or how he slipped his hand into yours when he saw your expression soften.

“You deserve everything,” he told you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you leaned against him.

“You know you don’t have to do all this for me, right?” you whispered, looking up at him.

“I know,” Spencer replied. "But I want to. I love seeing you happy. And if I can… calculate ways to keep you smiling, I’m going to.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Not when he tilted his head slightly, looking at you like you were the only thing worth solving.