Kit:new house, same traditional grownup playdate—pizza, beer, and planning crimes
24
“We’re going to need a bigger bed in there.”
Fingers chilling around a beer bottle, Kit nestled into the corner of the couch. He was trying not to be nervous.
The couch was from James’s living room. Darius’s TV and TV-cupboard-thing sat across from him. The rug was from James’s house, and the armchair was from Darius’s apartment.
Most of Holden’s belongings were still in boxes, waiting on the second floor, but his shoes slumped next to Kit’s in the foyer. Kit just had to turn his head to see them.
Twenty-four hours. The house was already filling with the jumbled evidence of their lives. Kit had spent most of the day hiding from movers, while Darius directed them. James had gone into the office to do CEO things, and Holden had class.
Holden was allowed to drive unsupervised now. That wasn’t an expression of trust. Kit was pretty sure James just wanted to give Holden more rope to hang himself with. His sensible little sedan was parked next to one of James’s sports cars in the driveway.
Now, everyone was home, which was a weird thing to think. Weird in a good way. Darius and James had finished ‘helping’ each other set up the TV. Now they were in the kitchen arguing comfortably about something else. As for Holden…
A familiar blurry figure reflected on the TV screen. Deliberate footsteps gave warning before Holden swooped to kiss the top of Kit’s head. “What are you brooding about, darling?”
“I’m not brooding.” Kit stretched a rainbow-socked foot to poke Holden’s thigh as he circled around. “I’m just thinking, we should pick bedrooms soon. Otherwise, we’ll never organize the furniture.”
There was plenty of space on the couch, but Holden settled right next to Kit. That wasn’t good enough either, apparently, because he lifted Kit’s leg by the knee and hooked it over his own.
“You get the master bedroom,” Holden said. “I’ll get the next closest room. I don’t care where James and Darius sleep. I’d suggest the basement, but the wine cellar is pretty cool. They shouldn’t get it to themselves.”
“Good points.” Kit leaned forward, anticipating Holden’s arm stretching behind him. Cuddling back was so strangely comfortable. Just like settling into this house. “I was thinking, maybe I pick a different room just for me, and the master bedroom is for sharing?”
He didn’t want to claim the biggest room for himself, even though his boyfriends would let him. This was the point of moving in together: to centralize their clinging spiderweb of a relationship.
“I like how you think.” Holden jiggled his leg a bit under Kit’s. “We’re going to need a bigger bed in there.”
A low, pleasant chime interrupted.
“I’ll get the door,” Kit said, extricating himself from Holden’s grasp.
James called from the kitchen, “Remember to check the camera!”
“Don’t worry,” Kit called back. Untouched beer in hand, he headed for the front door.
A newly installed screen hung beside it, six by six inches. Kit tapped a hidden button twice, and the screen brightened into a clear image of Bishop’s face. Tugging the touchscreen to zoom out revealed that Bishop was alone.
They hadn’t decided on bedrooms yet, but everyone was on board with sensible precautions.
Kit unlocked the door and opened it. “Hi.”
“Nice place,” Bishop answered, but his searching gaze was fixed on Kit.
Bishop looked the same as ever. Tall, composed, the dangerous sort of casual. The blue stripes in his flannel shirt brought out his eyes, and a six-pack offering dangled from one hand.
But Kit was getting better at reading Bishop. Tonight’s tension wasn’t one-sided.
Not the good kind of tension. The kind that made Kit want to say—
“I’m sorry,” Kit said quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.
Bishop blinked. Possibly the most surprised Kit had ever seen him. Then his eyes narrowed above a lopsided smirk. “Does that mean you’re going to spill all your secrets?”
Kit wrinkled his nose. “You wish.”
