Quin risked reaching a hand over to give Kit’s knee a squeeze. After a split second of tensing, Kit relaxed and met Quin’s eyes.
“I’m sorry that happened to you all,” Quin said, putting both hands back on the wheel.
“It’s in the past.”
“Doesn’t make it any less trau?—”
Kit reached towards the door handle. “If you use the ‘T’ word, I’ll throw myself out of the car.”
“Uh. Right,” Quin said. He considered pulling over.
Kit tapped his nails on the window. “Your generation is so obsessed with trauma. Not to mentiontherapy.” Each word dripped with derision as Kit’s agitation grew. “You can’t solve everything by sitting down with a complete stranger and telling them about the worst things that ever happened to you. It’s ridiculous.”
“I didn’t say you should go to therapy,” Quin said. “I take it someone else did?”
“Shaun. He went to a psychologist or psychiatrist or some other ‘ist’ and told me it helped him.”
“Don’t bite my head off, but there’s merit to his words.” Quin warded off Kit’s sharp look with a raise of his hand. “Don’t you agree that if the mere mention of trauma or therapy makes you threaten to throw yourself from a moving vehicle, then there might be some credence to the suggestion?”
“It’s not like I’d die if I did it,” Kit grumbled.
“Kit, come on. You’re stubborn, but you’re not that stubborn.”
“I’d argue that I very muchamthat stubborn.” Kit folded his arms over his chest and slumped in the seat.
“Sorry,” Quin said. His idea of their perfect evening was slipping from between his fingers. As Kit stayed silent and stared resolutely forward, Quin’s hands clammed up. All the doubts he’d felt at the start of the night returned tenfold. They were almost at the cinema, and he wanted to get them back on track before then. “Look, I think I’ve made a mistake,” he blurted.
“A mistake?” Kit’s voice was quiet and careful. Too careful.
“Oh, I mean, not in inviting you. No, that was the opposite of a mistake. An excellent decision on both our parts, I’d go as far as saying. Just in, well, the film choice.” He was rambling. He knew he was rambling, and yet, he didn’t seem able to stop himself.
“Okay,” Kit said, drawing out the word. “So what film are we going to see?”
“Um.” Quin flailed, because suddenly admitting out loud to a vampire that you were taking them to see a double bill of vampire movies didn’t even sound good in his head, let alone aloud.
“Is it…” Kit lowered his voice. “Is it like one of those old seedy cinemas that you go to watch porno films in?”
“What?” Quin took his eyes off the road to look at Kit in abject horror.
Kit was pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek, grinning. “You’re too young to have been about when those were a thing, I suppose.” He shook his head, laughing. “The shit that existed in the seventies and eighties would shock you.”
“I did not bring you on a date to watch porn,” Quin said, now feeling a lot better about what theyweregoing to see. That was, if Kit didn’t tell him to turn the car around the second they got to the cinema.
“Such a gentleman,” Kit said.
“Just wait,” Quin said, playing along. “I’ll open the car door for you and lay my jacket down on the puddle outside as I escort you in.”
“Not your nice jacket!” Kit cried, though he didn’t hide his laughter.
“Yup. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“I’m glad that’s all you’ll have to sacrifice,” Kit said, more seriously. “I owe you another apology for Conroy.” He’d spoken a lot whilst Quin’s beast was in control over the past couple of nights, but there wasn’t much mutual conversation when Quin could only respond in growls.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Quin assured him.
Kit bit his lip. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I’m to blame. Please don’t hate me, but I went to ask Conroy if he could get rid of you right after we first ‘met’.” Kit did quote marks in the air as he finished his confession.
This didn’t surprise Quin. “I figured it was something like that. I couldn’t hear everything that you all said to each other, but I got the gist.”
