“You’re not mad at me for it?” Kit’s voice was tiny.
“No, of course not. I chased you down in a dark forest and then turned up on your street a couple of days later. It’s not thatweird to presume that you’d go to your version of the authorities to complain.”
“I caused you to be hunted down like an animal.”
“What do you want me to say, Kit? That I’m angry about it? ’Cause I’m not. We’re both past it. We both got out alive. That’s all that matters.”
Kit hummed. “Okay.”
“You can trust me to be honest. If I thought you’d done something wrong, I’d tell you and we would talk it through.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It is,” Quin said. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?”
Kit’s gaze slid over to Quin, wary, but trusting. Kit nodded. “Yeah, Quin. I do.”
He sounded quietly surprised by his own admission.
Kit stopped short when he caught sight of the old movie posters on the walls as they entered the building. He twisted to look at Quin. “Seriously?” he asked, incredulous.
Quin grimaced. “Surprise?”
Kit rubbed a hand over his face. “Only you would plan a date to bring me to seeThe Lost BoysandFright Night. By the way, I’ve seen both of them at the cinema before.”
“What?” Quin searched his memory for their original release dates. He still wasn’t sure exactly when Kit had become a vampire, but he presumed he would have already been one by the time the films were out.
“Oh, yeah,” Kit said. “Lawrence found it hilarious to go along to vampire flicks and choose guys to feed on. He was quite righteous about the whole thing. Like it was some kind of divineretribution he was carrying out on the poor people who’d had the audacity to consume media about us.”
“Uh. So, was this a terrible idea that reminds you of a bad time in your life and I’ve screwed up?”
Kit’s smile was small, but seemed legitimate. “It’s fine. Been a while since I’ve gone to the cinema. I’ve never plucked up the courage to go by myself.”
His words made Quin feel worse in a way. “You don’t have to go along with it just because I brought you here and you’re too nice to tell me to fuck off.”
Kit scowled. “Toonice? Nobody’s ever accused me of such an outrageous thing before. Take that back. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Quin raised his hands. “All right. I take it back. You’re perfectly horrible.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Emphasis on the ‘perfect’,” Quin added, earning him a narrow-eyed glare from Kit. Before Kit could snark again, Quin pressed at the small of his back. “We better pick up the tickets or we’ll miss the trailers.”
Kit made a show of looking unamused as Quin guided him forward, but the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Do they even show trailers here?”
“Probably not.”
There weren’t many other attendees: a mixed group of teenagers who were the most well-behaved Quin had ever come across, some older couples, and half a dozen women of a similar age to Quin, who’d collectively drank a few Pinots too many.
One woman caught sight of Quin. She leaned over and stage-whispered to her friend, “Check out those arms!”
Quin resisted the urge to follow her gaze down to his own arms. But Kit went stock still, staring at the women like a sniper with his target in the crosshairs. The women didn’t seem torealise that they’d caught Kit’s attention, continuing to witter on about Quin’s appearance. They couldn’t know that the two of them heard every word they said.
“Ignore them,” Quin said, and tried to push Kit along.
Kit didn’t let Quin move him. “They’re objectifying you,” he said. “It’s rude.”
“I don’t care.”
