"You saved me, didn't you?" Gentry said, plopping onto her back. "Visha gave me something funny to drink and then you gave me something even funnier and now..." She spread her arms out as if she were trying to capture the enormity of her feelings in a single gesture. "I'm a mess."
"Are you sure you weren't a mess before?" Kit asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and avoiding getting kicked by a wayward foot.
"This is a nice kind of mess," Gentry proclaimed. "I never took a bunch of pills like the others in the hospital do. Because they don't want you to think and I like to think, but right now..." She put her pillow over her face. "I don't wanna think."
"About your father?" Kit guessed.
Gentry made a disgusted choking sound and threw the pillow aside. "Forget about that. It's done. Five years down the shitter. My life is... all shitty. I planned and planned and planned and now I don't know what to do."
"Me neither," Kit said, surprised that they were on the same page for once, albeit because she was severely inebriated. "I don't know what to do either."
"Your girlfriend's bad," Gentry murmured.
“My ex,” Kit immediately corrected, “yes, she was bad. That’s why I broke things off with her.”
"Good for you," she sighed, "I want an ex."
"You don't have an ex-boyfriend?" he asked, surprised by this information. He remembered her taking control in the hotel room, how he’d instantly been helpless to her. “You’re lying.”
Gentry shot him the dirtiest look she could, but it lacked the amount of heat he'd grown used to. "Sex is different from dating, dumbass. No boyfriend," she lisped. "No girlfriend. I’ll settle for anything at this point. I'll have to dump them fast to call them an ex. That way I’m experienced. The second one will be more serious," she decided.
"You can’t plan all that," Kit said, amused by the topic.
"How can I know if my boyfriend's any good if I've only ever had one boyfriend?" Gentry closed the distance between them and poked him on the chest, leaning close in.
"Gentry." It took everything in him not to put his arms around her, pull her closer. "Visha was the only girlfriend I ever had," he told her, not counting the women he’d slept with as he and her had fought and taken their breaks.
"Excellent!" She smiled back up at him. "That means the second one has got to be better."
"More than likely," he agreed, not fighting at all as the smile tugged up at his lips. It was funny. Even deadly drunk, this nerdy, magic-less girl was smarter than he was.
"I could be your second girlfriend." Gentry leaned in close and put her head on his chest, and Kit just about jumped off the bed at the gesture. "Because you're terrible and I'm great so it makes sense," she announced.
"You can only go up from here," he agreed, not fighting the smile tugging at his lips. So sure. Despite his light words, his heart was thundering in his chest, his body hot. After all, he'd always found Gentry beautiful and smart and more than a littleintimidating. To have her all cute and cuddled into his chest like this, it felt like a perfect little slice of hell.
She was so innocent compared to the woman who’d taken control at the hotel. Kit didn’t prefer one over the other. He wanted both. For a second, he wondered if this was a game she was playing, but he dismissed it. She had nothing to gain from faking this time.
"You do look like you'd be a good kisser," Gentry said, scooting herself even closer to him and sitting up on her knees so that they were eye level. Her eyes were concentrated on his, intense. Despite this, she traced his scar up from his chin over his lips, her gaze losing focus instantly.
"I've heard no complaints," he admitted, once again fighting a smile. He scooted back so that they had some distance. "But I just went through a breakup and you..." He flicked her nose and she fell over. "Are high as a kite right now."
"But I wanted to kiss you while I was sober," Gentry said. "And you need a rebound."
Everything in him tightened. "You’d be a hell of a rebound," he admitted, not wanting for one second for her to think that she was anything less than beautiful. "So let's see if you still feel the same after you take a little nap." He suspected very strongly that she wouldn't. After all, how could she want him? She was beautiful and smart and he was the bastard who tried to snuff that out, all just because his bitch of an ex-girlfriend had told him to. And that wasn't even considering the point that Gentry had essentially just escaped a prison of 5 years; her finding him desirable in any way could just be a case of not enough choices. If they could ever find someplace safe, then Gentry would be reminded that no sane man would turn her down.
But that idea didn't make him happy, far from it. He was surprised by the raw amount of jealousy burning in his chest atthe thought of some guy getting his hands on Gentry. God, he felt so off-balance.
He stood up before he did something he regretted. "Get some sleep," he told her. "We’re out of here soon, and I’ll need that brain and laptop of yours to come up with a plan.” His spiel about the Wilds could wait until he heard her plans. After he’d almost gotten her killed, Kit wanted to give her a chance to decide their fates herself.
Gentry pouted at him, but lay down. "Whatever you want," she said cheekily, burying herself into the covers and batting her eyelashes at him.
Kit’s body went hot again, and he saved the memory for a time when he wouldn't feel so fucking confused. He was in trouble; if she ever acted like this again sober, they'd both be doomed.
twenty-six
Gentry
Gentry woke up with an instant migraine and with every inch of her skin protesting the scratchy quilt on top of her. She moaned and threw it off of her, as every aspect of her environment fought her. Her skin pebbled at the freezing air conditioning and the late afternoon sun tormented her sensitive eyes.
