Salt did. The same as when Aster was sad.
I whipped my head towards the heartbeat in the cottage that didn’t belong to me or a cat. Kit was home but he was upstairs. Before he’d gone up there, he’d been crying.
I ditched my bag by the sofa, prompting Kat to jerk awake and hiss. I didn’t stop to placate her. I rushed over to the second set of stairs. Kat might be upset I’d been absent for weeks and that my return had interrupted her beauty sleep, but she wasn’t my priority right now. Something had made Kit cry. I needed to find him and make sure he was alright.
I paused on the top floor landing. His steady heartbeat wasn’t thumping from his bedroom. A crease forming between my eyebrows, I pushed open my door.
All confusion around why Kit had chosen my bedroom over his own was swept away as a deeper wave of salty sadness swept over me. I hurried to my bed, the scent of tears growing stronger with every step.
Kit was asleep, tangled in my blankets. Only his head was visible, his face turned into one of my pillows. His light brown hair curled against the navy fabric, his darker eyelashes clumped into triangles above his high cheek bones. His smooth skin was damp with tears.
Despite his evident distress, warmth swelled inside me. I didn’t know why Kit had cried himself to sleep in my bed rather than his own, but it felt right that he was here. I didn’t know if that was because I had been living in a cabin with one bed that I shared with two other men for the past few weeks, but I hoped Kit never slept in his bed across the hall again. I wanted his legs tucked close to mine. I wanted to watch him blink awake in the mornings. I wondered if he’d smile when he saw me.
His lips aways looked softest when he smiled.
I found his shoulder under the mound of blankets and squeezed. His eyebrows scrunched, his mouth fattening into a pout, before he slowly opened his eyes.
‘Lucas? You’re here?’ His face bloomed pink as he struggled to free himself from his blanket cave. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come into your room.’
‘I like it.’
‘I didn’t think you were coming back.’ Kit tugged at the blankets crowding him, his eyes darting everywhere but to meet mine. ‘I wouldn’t have gotten into your bed if I thought you were.’
‘Kit, I really like you being in my bed.’ I didn’t mind repeating myself, since the second time the words seemed to sink in. His face turned a deeper shade of red and his frantic movements ceased. I untucked half of the blankets. ‘Can I join you?’
More salty sadness brushed over me. There were other parts to it, elements I couldn’t untangle yet. I hoped enough time spent with Kit would make them familiar. But not too familiar. His eyes flooded with tears as he scooted over to make room for me. I wanted to know all the different ways his scent deepened and changed, but I wanted to know the notes that meant he was in anyway unhappy the least.
I snuggled under the blankets. We lay facing each other, heads resting either end of a pillow. My knees touched Kit’s. I tangled his fingers in mine.
‘What’s wrong?’
None of my dreams for my homecoming included Kit being desperately sad, but that didn’t make being here any less perfect. I didn’t need Kit to be ecstatic at my return, I just needed him to be with me.
He sniffed, his nose pink. ‘The indie awards committee didn’t shortlist Island Books.’
‘Oh.’ I frowned. ‘They’re stupid then.’
Kit huffed out a laugh. ‘I appreciate your support, but they made the right decision. I didn’t do a great job of explaining why Island Books is special.’ His lower lip wobbled. I wanted to trace my thumb along the delicate skin until the quivering stilled. ‘The video I made wasn’t very good.’
Kit had agonised over that recording for days. He’d been so self-conscious that he hadn’t let me watch the finished product. I couldn’t see how he would have been anything other than lovely, but nerves might have gotten in the way of him truly shining.
‘You tried your hardest. That’s all you could do.’ I gripped his fingers. ‘You don’t need some award people to tell you and everyone on this island and everyone who visits from all over the place that your bookshop is wonderful.’
A fresh tear trailed down his cheek and soaked into my pillow. ‘Thank you.’
The salty scent surrounding him was thick, but I thought there was a tiny lightening. If Kit’s happiness increased when I opened my mouth and expansive compliments spewed out, I wouldn’t stop them ever again. If my inability to control my vocal cords gave him joy, then I’d let them run wild and free.
‘That’s not all.’ Kit bit his lip and the urge to press my thumb there grew stronger. He couldn’t do permanent damage, but I didn’t want him to hurt himself in any way ever. ‘Hamish is heading off to university tomorrow. He told me this afternoon.’
A bright flash of rage distracted me from imagining what my calloused thumb would feel like on Kit’s lower lip. I’d tried not to judge Hamish too harshly despite his grumpiness and his continued scepticism around whether I was truly Kit’s friend, but this was a step too far.
‘He only told you the day before he’s leaving?’ I checked.
Kit sniffed. ‘Yeah.’
‘That butthead.’
Salty sadness was shoved aside by pure warmth, the scent like fresh popcorn and sponge cake. Despite my desire to comfort Kit, I closed my eyes for a second. The air around me felt like raising my head to enjoy a sudden burst of sunshine.
