A smile stole like sunlight across Holden’s face. He waved and strode through the crowd towards Kit.
“Hi,” Holden said, still smiling, though more muted than usual. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Kit shrugged under his new jacket. “I didn’t expect to see you either.”
“Sure, you didn’t.” Holden winked. “If we keep running into each other like this, I’m going to think you’re stalking me.”
“Maybe I am.” Fuck. This wasn’t the time to flirt. If Holden was here, that meant… “Did you know Marco?”
Holden’s hand slipped into his pocket, fiddling with coins or whatever he had in there. The nervous gesture made Kit feel guilty for even asking, and Holden sounded a little distant when he answered. “Not very well. My friend Soraya was dating him.”
“Oh, shit.” Kit’s guilt intensified. “That must be horrible.”
Way to go, asshole,he scolded himself.Be weird and jealous about some grieving chick hugging your… totally normal, flirty acquaintance.
Holden seemed oblivious to Kit’s depravity. “Yeah, it’s been rough for her.” A microphone screeched, and people started moving towards the main tent. The crowd jostled Kit closer to Holden, and Holden lightly touched Kit’s shoulder. “Looks like they’re taking photos. We should get out of the way unless you want to be in the papers.”
Kit grimaced. “No thank you.”
“Great, neither do I. I prefer writing articles, not starring in them.” Holden flattened his hand against Kit’s shoulder blade and urged him away from the gathering.
“What do you mean, writing articles?” Kit asked.
Holden steered him towards a row of trees and benches and deeper shadows. “I wrote for the school paper last year. Dropped it this year, though. It took up too much time.”
Kit’s phone buzzed. He fished it out and read the incoming text.
Bishop:Where are you going?
Fuck. Right. Kit wasn’t supposed to wander off, however nice and normal Holden was. What if a hitman came after Kit, and Holden got caught in the situation too?
Bishop was right. Kit’s sense of self-preservation was sorely lacking. There was just something so disarming about Holden. He made Kit forget how fucked up his life was.
Kit pointed to the benches. “Let’s sit down.”
“Sure,” Holden said, and dropped down on the nearest one. With his long legs, he took up most of the bench, but not all of it. Not until he cocked his head as if considering carefully, then deliberately stretched his arm along the back of the bench.
Okay. So Kit wasn’t the only one having inappropriate thoughts at a memorial vigil. For a long, insane moment, he thought about sliding onto Holden’s lap.
Kit went for the restrained choice, sitting next to Holden and leaning back against his arm. The pressure against Kit’s shoulders was warm, even through his jacket.
Kit’s phone buzzed again.
Bishop:good
The approval was a different, aggravating kind of warmth, leaving Kit entirely unprepared for Holden to ask, “So, who are you here with?”
22
“You don’t get to flirt with me at a vigil.”
After all Kit’s worrying about coming up with a good story, Holden was the first person to ask him any questions. Kit shrugged against Holden’s arm. “A friend. He knows the family.”
“A friend, huh?” Holden teased. “Or that kinda-sorta boyfriend?”
Kit gently elbowed Holden’s ribs. “Stop it. You don’t get to flirt with me at a vigil.”
“That’s not fair. You’re being funny, but it’s probably rude if I laugh at a vigil too.” Holden gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re avoiding the question.”
