Kit nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Can you say it again?”
“I love you.”
“Again.” This time, Kit was more demanding.
Quin smiled. “I love you.”
“A—” Kit started, but Quin cut in.
“Iloveyou. And I’ll tell you it every day until you grow bored with me saying it.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of hearing it.”
“Good. Because I don’t plan to stop.”
The smile that Kit gave Quin was small, but it told the truth. Kit believed Quin’s words. But then Kit’s face fell. “What the hell are we going to do about everything?”
“About our ghostly problem?” Quin asked, and Kit nodded. Quin swallowed before suggesting something he didn’t want to, but it might be their only option. “What about Conroy and the witches?”
Kit’s expression turned pained. “Those arseholes won’t help us. Conroy would cheer Lawrence on from the sidelines.”
“The witches didn’t seem so bad.” Even though Quin had wanted to rip Xavier to shreds for threatening Kit—and then again for calling him by an overfamiliar endearment—he would admit that he didn’t think the witch would have hurt Kit. Although Roxy had been intimidating, she seemed unlikely to wield her power maliciously. At least, that’s what Quin thought. In his beast form, it was like experiencing life on a different frequency. He relied less on his physical senses, and a lot more on instinct.
Kit hummed in response before sighing. “I’m not sure.”
“How about we speak to them whilst the others are here? Bring them for backup?”
Kit made a face. “I don’t suppose we have another choice.”
“We do. The two of us can try to fight whatever it is alone, but I think we’ll have more of a chance of defeating Lawrence if we understand what we’re facing. The witches are our best option.”
“You’re right.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
Kit frowned. “You’re often right.”
Quin’s face heated. “I’m just being stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” Kit punched him in the arm as if to punctuate his point.
“Um, ow? I’m covered in enough bruises.”
“I barely touched you.”
“You have vampire strength.”
Kit harrumphed. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Then stop moaning.”
“I think it needs to be kissed better,” Quin said, pressing his hand to where Kit had, indeed, hardly touched him.
Kit rolled his eyes and batted Quin’s hand away. “You’re so dramatic.” But he leaned over and kissed Quin’s arm where he’d hit it.
“So much better,” Quin said. “But what about my knuckles?”
