James was angry at Kit for hiding something. He wasn’t stupid enough to miss his own hypocrisy.
Cold air ruffled through their hair. Darius was probably in the bedroom behind them, because for all Darius claimed he didn’t want to get involved in James’s business, he was as nosy as Bishop sometimes. But out on the balcony, high above the streets flowing with people and cars and lights, San Corvo’s glittering blood pumping through its veins—
James and Kit were the only people in the world.
Kit regarded him with a serious calm. His bright green eyes were as mesmerizing as ever. Even when James turned away to look at the city again, the pressure of Kit’s gaze remained heavy.
James wished he wasn’t sober now. “Today would have been Crystal’s thirty-second birthday.”
“Your sister,” Kit said softly, after a moment. Of course it took him a moment to remember, because James never talked about them all.
“Yeah. My older sister.” James rubbed his hand over his face. “I always think of her as being older than me, you know? She seemed so mature. She knew everything. But I’m older now than she’s ever going to be.”
Even Kit, who seemed so young, was older than Crystal or Iris would ever be.
There was nothing young about Kit when James turned now.Just sorrow, and something foolish and desperate like affection. That same steady calm anchored them together, and James wanted to talk, for once. He wanted to expose his weaknesses to Kit—because maybe these weren’t weaknesses after all.
“She would have been an adult with a job and maybe a family. Or she would have crashed and burned out of art school, and she’d still be mooching off Mom’s money.” James gripped the railing, his knuckles whitening. “She could have been a fucked-up junkie and that’s fucking fine. She deserved the chance to win or lose, fly or fall. To live.”
“Was she an artist?” Kit asked.
“That was all she ever wanted to do. Mom always said she would end up a spinster with seven cats. I think Crystal saw that as a goal, not a threat.”
Kit moved closer. Just enough that their hands barely touched on the railing. “I’m sorry.”
“The anniversary of their deaths is easier,” James admitted. “I can deal with being angry. Their birthdays are the days that fuck me up.”
Warmth kissed James’s hand. Kit’s palm slid over his skin, and their fingers entwined. James hadn’t realized how cold he was until Kit’s heat seeped into him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kit asked, head bowed as he played with James’s fingers. “I can help you day-drink way better than Darius.”
“Maybe that’s why. I like you more than I like Darius, and I didn’t want to ruin your day.” James laughed, knowing it was a defense mechanism. “I didn’t want you to see me weak and sad.”
Kit tilted his head against James’s shoulder. “Go ahead next time. It’ll be a nice change from me ruining my own day.”
James closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the railing, then relaxed. He needed this comfort more than he realized—but he didn’t deserve it. Not after losing his temper in Darius’s living room.
He didn’t deserve it, but he was never strong enough to refuse what Kit offered.
“Thank you.” James brushed the hair from Kit’s forehead. Pointless. The wind just blew it back into his eyes, and Kit wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I yelled at you in there.”
Kit frowned. “You didn’t really yell.”
Yeah, no. James didn’t intend to make excuses for his behavior, and he certainly didn’t want Kit doing that work for him. Whatever shit Kit was used to putting up with, that wasn’t how James handled relationships.
Not that James had had many. “Doesn’t matter. If I ever raise my voice in anger at you again, I want you to walk out on me.”
“We’re allowed to argue.” Kit sighed when James narrowed his eyes. “Don’t like, suppress your emotions or whatever. Even I know that’s unhealthy. Trust me, I’ll walk out if I need to.” Kit’s lips pursed, like he was suppressing a smile. “Unless you’re actively kidnapping me at the time, I guess.”
James laughed, the last of his tension melting away. “You kidnap a guyone time,and he holds it against you forever.”
Kit’s grin broke free. “I’m petty like that.”
Fuck, seeing Kit smiling was a relief. Knowing James hadn’t ruined this already. Though he still might, if he wasn’t careful. Kit was so touchy about labels. “Not that we’re dating or anything,” James said.
He expected Kit to laugh and lean into him. Scold him with sharp words or kiss him with soft lips, so they could return to equilibrium.
Instead, Kit shook his head, fierce light in his eyes. “No. That’s whatIneed to apologize for.”
