Latching onto the soft voices and footsteps around him, the bright children’s book posters and rows of shelves, Kit closed the tab, cleared the browser history, and signed out of Matthew James’s computer session. Shopping bag and book in hand, he headed towards the front of the library.
Thankfully, there was a self-checkout kiosk. Kit wouldn’t have to make conversation again.
Except a light, friendly voice sounded behind him. “Hey, I’ve been rereading that series. What did you think of the first book?”
Kit whirled, adrenaline spiking. He hadn’t heard anyone approach, but this guy was close enough to touch. Close enough Kit had to rock back a step to look up andupinto his face.
The guy just grinned down, seeming not to notice Kit’s extreme reaction. He was as tall as James, around a foot taller than Kit, and gave off a laidback surfer vibe. His mass of wavy blond hair was pulled back in a bun, accentuating the strong, lean lines of his face.
From his SCU shirt and the backpack slung over one shoulder, Man Bun was probably a college student. Just a few years older than Kit at the most.
And he was still grinning, unperturbed by Kit staring at him like an idiot. The guy had said something, hadn’t he?
“What? Um.” Kit looked down at the book in his hand. He hadn’t even read the title when he grabbed it, just wanting an explanation for why he was at the library in case James was tracking his location. “I didn’t realize this was a sequel.”
Fuck. Why was he so awkward? Was he really this out of practice talking to people who weren’t murderers?
Man Bun just laughed. “I do that all the time. Hang on.” He winked and snagged a book from the nearby returns cart. “Here’s the first one. I just brought it back.”
“Um. Thanks.” Kit hooked his shopping bag over his elbow so he could take the book. Their fingers didn’t brush.
Why was Kit so aware of their fingersnotbrushing? Why did Man Bun’s attention feel so much like sunlight, warming his skin and stinging his eyes?
“If we run into each other again, you’ll have to tell me what you think,” Man Bun said, eyes crinkling in a smile. “See you around.”
Then he was striding off for the front doors. Kit stared after him for a long time before he realized the checkout kiosk was open.
Weird, Kit reflected as he checked out. Kind of nice. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a casual, low stakes conversation with someone. Maybe he hadn’t even made that much of a fool of himself.
Kind of nice, yeah. This was how you were supposed to meet people. Talking about books in a library. Not getting abducted in the middle of a massacre.
Kit sighed, exasperated with his own weird wistful thoughts. Normal was for other people. Kit was way too fucked up for a nice, normal guy like Man Bun.
He slid his books into his shopping bag and headed for the exit—until a rack of newspapers caught his attention.
A specific headline in the paper. A specific word in the headline.
Killed.
Kit drifted forward. Resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone was watching him. Was this about the guy James killed on their date? A strange calm settled over Kit, his mind separating from the flipping of his stomach. He’d barely asked James for any details. Just enough to get the assurance that the cops wouldn’t be looking to question Mr. Zhou’s anonymous, underdressed lunch companion.
He should probably see what other people were saying about it.
But when he picked up the newspaper, Kit discovered that Mr. Red and Purple Tie only warranted a small article. Front page, but below the fold. The headline was about another incident entirely:
SCU STUDENT KILLED ON CAMPUS
Ignoring the San Corvo University article, Kit skimmed through the piece about Mr. Red and Purple Tie. The restaurantdeath was still unsolved, and the San Corvo Police Department detective in the interview wouldn’t even disclose whether they considered it a homicide or not.
Kit set down the newspaper and returned to the mall.
Head bowed to text Carla for a pickup, something caught the edge of his vision. A movement reflected in a shop window, gone before he could look up. Paranoia tingled at the back of his neck.
There was no reason to suspect he was being watched. There was no reason for anyone to watch him. But he could help feeling—
“Hey! It’s Kit, right?”
Kit whirled at the familiar deep voice. Too close behind him. What was with everyone sneaking up on him today? He took a moment to remember the man’s name, even though he recognized him immediately. Darius. Kit had only seen him for a few minutes at Bishop’s house, but he would recognize that glorious brown jawline anywhere. That confident ease of movement, unfettered by the orange-cream button-down shirt.
