Darius stared him down. “Leave the room. Get yourself together. I’ll take care of Kit.”
James closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped, and when he opened his eyes again, the fire had gone from them. He reached out towards Kit, then grimaced and dropped his hand. Without another word, he retreated further into Darius’s apartment. A door shut firmly down the hall.
Kit slumped against the couch, caught between so many emotions, he couldn’t feel any of them properly. His eyes stung but stayed dry. “I fucked this up, didn’t I?”
Darius sat on the coffee table in front of him. He filled the space as solidly as ever, a physical wall between Kit and the rest of the world. “Even if you did, it’s okay to fuck up sometimes,”Darius said, with the same reassuring firmness with which he’d told James to leave the room. “I think you’re good for James.”
Kit blinked out of his agonizing self-pity. “What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t see it, because you obviously didn’t know James before he met you.” Darius grinned. “He’s always been driven. Too driven.”
“With searching for his family’s killers?” Kit asked.
“With everything.” Darius’s grin dropped. “He’s emotional enough that I don’t work hands-on with him. I’ll take jobs for him, or loop him in to help with intel, but I don’t trust him at my side in the field. But there’s been something different about him since he met you.” Darius lifted his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s driven about you too. But I’ve never heard him talk so normally about someone before.”
Kit laughed loudly enough to startle himself. He uncurled, legs swinging over the edge of the couch. “I met James at a crime scene. Then he took me on a murder date. Then I blew him in his limo and asked to move in with him. He’s tracking my phone—this is after he read all my text messages. What the fuck is normal about that?”
“Normal is relative,” Darius admitted, adjusting the empty harness around his shoulder. “James has never seriously dated anyone before. He’s gone on a few dates. He’s definitely slept around. But the closest thing he’s ever had to a relationship is probably me, and maybe Bishop. His need for revenge is such a huge part of who he is, and he can’t share that with most people.”
Fuck. Kit had been so caught up with how new and crazy and scary this was for him. He’d never even thought that James might be in over his head too.
James shared some of his darkest moments with Kit, without Kit sharing the same. Except—maybe James hadn’t shared that much after all. Kit knew the facts, but there was more to tragedy and revenge than facts. James had given Kit more than he gave most people, but not everything. Until today, Kit hadn’t seen any cracks in his confident mask.
“He’s gone fucking domestic over you,” Darius continued. “I can’t tell if it’s adorable or disgusting. He told me he made you breakfast in bed the other day.”
“Because he kept me up until four in the morning trying to sixty-nine,” Kit said absently. “It doesn’t work. He’s too tall.”
“James didn’t tell me that part.”
“Oops.” Kit twisted his fingers in his sweatshirt sleeves. “What else has he told you about me?”
“He told me how good you smell in his shampoo.” Darius rubbed his stubbled scalp, grimacing. “And how cute he thinks your toes are.”
Kit stared. “You’re right. I can’t tell if that’s adorable or disgusting either.”
“He fucking called me to tell me that. I hung up on him.” Darius leaned forward and squeezed Kit’s shoulder, his grip firm and warm and reassuring, but gone the next moment. “James is fine. He just needs a minute to cool off. Areyouall right?”
19
Blunt fingers traced Kit’s jugular.
“I’m fine,” Kit answered, which probably wasn’t the truth. He was still freaked out over—over nothing. The flash of light had been nothing, probably. So, he was freaked out over freaking out, and over telling James about the hit, and over the gut-wrenching look of betrayal in James’s face.
But he was better now. That was good enough.
Darius didn’t press him. “I know you’re keeping secrets, and that’s all right. All of us have secrets. If you’re wondering whether or not you should say something, it’s okay to wait. You can’t un-say shit once it’s been said.”
Maybe it was cowardly of him, but Kit was glad he was talking to Darius right now. Not Bishop—who wouldn’t let Kit keep evading. Nobody needed to know why Kit hated photographs.
“I’ve been in some situations that make me a little jumpy sometimes,” Kit said eventually. “That’s why I freaked out today. They aren’t relevant to this contract, though. I’m sure of that.”
Darius just nodded. “Okay. Tell me if anything changes. I’m still negotiating with the contact about the hit. They’re not in a rush, and they’re being cagey about proof of completion options. So, it’s still serious, but not urgent.” Darius squeezed Kit’s shoulder, broad hand rubbing some of Kit’s tension away. “But until we get this sorted, you shouldn’t go out alone.”
Every nerve in Kit’s shoulder tingled with Darius’s touch. “Yeah. I’ll talk to James about it.”
“I want to loop Bishop in too.”
Kit instinctively resisted the idea, but today was clearly proof he wasn’t thinking rationally. Darius was the professional here. Kit should probably listen. “If you think that’s best.”
