“Does that mean I can shower when you’re done?” she asked, grimacing as she looked down at her soiled clothes.
“Yes, of course,” Freckles assured her. “But we have some questions for you before our friends get here to take you to their place.”
She nodded, scrolling through her phone but not really seeming to absorb anything. Nico couldn’t imagine having been through something so traumatic and having his mother missing while still maintaining any sense of composure. Not at that age, anyway. But Casey was the picture of calm, more curious than worried.
That made one of them. Nico couldn’tstopthinking about the troubles crashing down on him. Not just stumbling upon the dead body of a triad member—which was an enormous issue all by itself—but trying to decide how to deal with Mal, who was still showering in the spare bathroom.
Nico captured his bottom lip between his teeth as his traitorous brain pictured his best friend’s naked body beneath the steamy water, face tipped back, droplets clinging to his lips and lashes. Fuck. Why had he ever shared a shower with that man? He knew way too well how he looked naked and wet.
And now, they’d kissed. No, they’d more than kissed. Nico didn’t even know what to call what had happened between them, but whatever it was it was one hundred percent Mal’s fault. Friends who kiss? That wasn’t even a thing. But Nico had pretended it was justsoreasonable in the moment. Because he was weak and stupid and horny. And Mal was strong and pretty and smelled incredible all the time, even dripping with sweat.Especiallydripping with sweat.
Nico tried to push those thoughts away. He really did. He was sitting in a room full of people. He couldn’t be getting worked up thinking about his best friend or, more specifically, about the soul-searing kisses they’d shared. Fucking asshole. Couldn’t Maljust be bad at one thing? Why couldn’t he have been a weird kisser? Or a bad kisser who slobbered or used too much tongue?
Nico dropped his forehead to the table with a groan, causing the table to vibrate, then jerked up, giving an apologetic look to Freckles and Casey before setting his head back down less emphatically. The cool wood felt soothing on his overheated skin. What was wrong with him? It had been less than two hours since they’d had to wait for a clean-up crew—dressed as a legit clean-up company—to arrive and cart off the body of a dead Chinese gangster, and all Nico could focus on was how he’d let Malachi con him into blowing up their friendship.
Maybe Mal had only just pretended to be this adorable little alien creature. Maybe he was actually an evil little bunny-teethed sex demon sent to lead Nico astray. What other explanation was there? Kissing Mal was supposed to extinguish the hunger gnawing at his insides, not throw gasoline on it. How dare he be so fucking sexy? So hot. So good with his tongue…and his hands.
It made no sense. Mal was an awkward turtle on his best day. He made weird eye-contact and spit out random facts like he was the back of a Snapple lid. He had a mean streak ten miles wide and he looked at Nico like he was a ten-course meal. He could—andwould—debate whether subbed or dubbed anime was better with the same heat and fervor he’d defend something big, like human rights. He made silly expressions when he was reading and he sneezed like a cat.
Him sexing up Nico like the rent was due made no fucking sense. It had to have been a trap…or a fluke. His insides twisted painfully, his heart heavy. He’d really hoped Mal would be bad at kissing. Fooling around with him was supposed to be a one-time thing, a temporary solution, not the answer to every prayer he’d ever had.
Stupid, dumb, sexually adept cat-bunny.
He’d ruined everything.
Nico’s chest tightened, the inexplicable urge to cry overtaking him. Mal was already his everything. He couldn’t be the person who got him off, too. Nico knew better than anyone what happened when people brought feelings into sex or sex into feelings. He’d watched his mother chase love again and again, bringing home loser after loser, each one more dangerous than the last, until she’d finally just given up, choosing instead to exchange sex for money. She’d told him a million times that choosing money over love was the best thing that ever happened to her.
She’d cautioned him to harden his heart, to never seek fulfillment or validation in other people. She had told him it was fine to date someone, it was fine to fuck them, but to keep love out of the equation. Love was for family and friendship. Relationships were for stability, nothing more than a financial contract.
His friends said it was crazy to listen to his mom, that she was just bitter after being hurt so many times in the past. The only member of their friend group who understood was Seven. Nobody knew better than him that love was a fucking illusion. He thought Nico’s mom was an icon.
Nico jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder, bolting upright with a gasp, earning a giggle from Casey and a smirk from Freckles. Mal lingered over him. Nico tipped his face upwards to look at him, his heart kicking as they made eye contact. Mal’s mahogany curls were dripping, missing the towel around his neck to land on his borrowed gray t-shirt, making the fabric darken everywhere they landed.
“You good?” Mal asked, frowning so hard his brows knitted together.
Nico nodded. “Tired,” he said, by way of explanation.
Mal dropped into the empty seat at the table, the legs of the chair making a horrific dragging sound as he then proceeded to drag-hop the chair closer and closer until they were touching. When Nico gave him a weird look, he gave him a closed-lip smile that was silly enough to have him biting back a laugh.
Mal was so weird.
“Now that you’re here, I wanted to ask Casey a few questions,” Jericho said, setting the sandwich and some chips on the table within the girl’s reach. “Would that be okay with you?”
She nodded, looking more apprehensive than she had just moments ago. “Okay.”
“Did you know the man who broke in?” Jericho asked, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder.
She shook her head, her face falling as she added, “No. Not really. I would see him around the stalls sometimes. There’s been a lot of weird men hanging out there lately. They make everyone nervous.”
“The stalls?” Mal asked.
Casey nodded. “The booths we sell from. Most of the regular customers are designers looking to buy silk from the other stalls, but a lot of boutiques come for my mom’s handbags. They’d either buy them outright or offer to keep them in their shops on commission. But…then things changed.”
“Changed?” Nico asked.
Casey gave a stilted nod. “My mom’s custom designs were her own. They were unique, that’s why the boutiques always wanted to keep them in stock. But a few months ago, we started selling…”
She fell quiet, her gaze ducking back to where Freckles continued to slowly, meticulously sew her wound shut.
