“Shit,” Kit said out loud. Two words echoed in his mind as came down from his high.
Naughty boy.
EIGHT
Quin
In the coupleof weeks following Kit’s unexpected appearance at the beach, Quin bumped into him almost every night. A few nights in, Quin convinced Kit to exchange phone numbers and established daily communication between them. Most of the messages Quin sent were memes, and he hoped Kit would learn to respond in more than old-school emoticon smiley faces. All Quin wanted was a joy emoji or a laughing gif. It wasn’t too much to ask.
Despite Kit being able to message Quin, he always turned up without prior contact when Quin took Mabel on her late-night walks. Summer might have been approaching—or what passed for summer in Scotland anyway—but Quin’s days were getting shorter as he stayed up later and later to maximise his time spent with Kit.
But the new routine worked. It didn’t matter if Quin woke up late; he had picked up a few coding jobs, which only required intermittent contact and weekly meetings with the clients. Staying out well past midnight was no big deal.
He and Kit would make small talk and discuss a bit about their hobbies and interests. Quin had sussed that Kit rarelyconversed with anyone but him, along with an occasional email exchange with his vampire friends. Quin had learned a bit about the triad of Shaun, Rake, and DJ, and been told some anecdotes from previous nests Kit had been around in the past few decades, but Kit revealed little beyond the surface level.
However, Quin was certain that, given time, Kit would open up. And oncethathappened, then Quin would ask him on a date. With the full moon beckoning once again, he’d have to take a short break from his stealthy operation to ask Kit out, but it wouldn’t derail his plans.
That night, the smirr—a word Kit had taught him—was soaking both himself and Mabel. It was a fine, misty rain that didn’t appear heavy, yet seeped into your bones. At least it wasn’t the horizontal rain they’d experienced the other day.
Even with his hood up and Mabel in her little doggy raincoat, they both shivered, so he chose a shorter route than normal. As he walked down a side street, he caught sight of Kit propped against a wall. He wore a bright yellow rain jacket with matching wellingtons.
“Hi, Georgie,” Quin called out.
Quin’s feet got splashed with puddle water when Kit appeared in front of him. “Are you finally admitting you’re a complete and utter clown?” Kit asked, face peeking out from under his over-long hood.
Quin laughed. “Walked into that one, I suppose.”
Kit took in Mabel in her raincoat. “She’s adorable,” he said, reaching out and patting her head as she approached him for attention.
You’re adorable, Quin wanted to say. But he refrained.
Barely.
Mabel shivered even as Kit lavished her with pets.
“Bit miserable out here tonight,” Quin said. “I’ll have to get her inside soon. Don’t want her getting too cold.”
Kit lifted his hood, meeting Quin’s eyes. “But…I only just got here,” Kit trailed off, leaving an awkward silence between them that Quin was desperate to break.
“Were you feeding?” he asked, wondering why Kit had shown up later than usual.
Kit averted his gaze. “No.”
Quin waited a beat to see if Kit might expand on that statement, but nothing else was forthcoming. “Do you need to feed tonight?”
“No.”
“Okay. So, if you don’t need food, and we all need to get out of the rain, how about you walk us back to mine and come inside? Get dry, get warm. I’ve got a fire I can put on,” he added, hoping it would sweeten the deal.
Kit remained silent for a few long seconds, one hand holding up the brim of his hood. The rain came down heavier, droplets pitter-pattering as they hit Kit’s raincoat.
“I suppose there can’t be much harm in it,” Kit said.
“Wonderful,” Quin gushed. It was a disproportionate response to the lukewarm acceptance, but he meant it.
He led the way, giving Mabel’s leash to Kit when he wouldn’t stop trying to smuggle treats to her as they walked. They came to Quin’s house after a quarter of an hour, both of them hurrying for the last few minutes as it started to pour.
Mabel zoomed up his garden path, pulling Kit along with her as she made for the front door. When she got to the stoop, she turned expectedly to Quin.
