“Couldn’t sleep,” I said quietly. “Wanted to see you before you left”
He pushed himself up to sit.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Kit remarked.
“I know.” I hesitated, then added, “I wanted to.”
That earned me a small, crooked smile. The kind that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t understand. He rubbed a hand over his face, and for a moment I just watched him.
I didn’t know how to tell him that being near him made me remember what it felt like to be human.
Kit noticed me looking. “You like what you see?”
“You know I do,” I answered.
Kit grinned, then sobered when he saw my expression. “Hey. You okay?”
I forced a nod. “Fine.”
That was a lie, of course. The image of his pulse under my lips, the memory of how close I’d come to losing control, it still haunted me.
I could have killed him. One wrong breath, one second of weakness, and it would’ve been over. Even worse, I could have claimed him, cursing him.
Kit leaned forward a little, elbows resting on his knees. “You don’t look fine.”
“I just didn’t expect you to stay last night,” I said, trying for something that sounded like casual. “I don’t exactly have five-star accommodations.”
Kit chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I’m here for you. I don’t care about the place.”
I didn’t have a reply to that. He looked out the window where the sun was just beginning to climb.
For a moment, the light hit his face in a way that made him look almost otherworldly. Like he didn’t belong in this broken house, in this fractured life.
“I have to head back soon,” Kit said finally. “They’ll start asking questions if I don’t show up.”
“Right,” I murmured. “Of course you need to go.”
I inwardly winced, because I hadn’t meant to sound so pathetic or needy.
Kit shot me a look, which was half teasing, half something else.
“You make it sound like I’m ashamed of being here,” Kit said.
“Aren’t you?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Kit frowned. “No.”
The word landed between us like a spark. I didn’t know what to do with it. I wanted to believe him, but I should know better. Kit stood, tugging on his jacket.
“I’ll check in later,” he said casually, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “Maybe bring you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he said with a smile.
Kit moved toward the door, and I followed him without meaning to.
“Kit,” I said.
