17
Andy
“That shouldn’t take toolong to run,” Kit said, voice echoing in the stairwell as he came back down into the kitchen from the bathroom. “Time to break into Mother’s wine collection, I think.”
“Won’t she be mad?” I asked, pausing to look up from my very important task for him.
I couldn’t believe I’d found a cup to match his dad’s tea set in a thrift store window—and fortwo pounds. Which I guessed was, like, three dollars. Practically free.
I’d never spent so little time over a purchasing decision in my life. Teddy was my friend, and this was something I knew he’d appreciate.
I just hoped Kit thought the gift I had tucked at the bottom of my suitcase for him was as good as this one.
“Furious, I imagine,” Kit said, ducking behind the kitchen counter. “But by the time she notices, you and I will be long gone.”
I laughed, breaking off the last piece of tape and inspecting my handiwork.
… okay, this wasn’t the most professionally-wrapped Christmas gift in the history of Christmas gifts, but it was an awkward shape, and I got the feeling Teddy would care more about the sentiment than the wrapping paper.
“I like the way you think,” I said as Kit emerged with two bottles of wine.
“Have we had enough dry sparkling white to last us until at least New Year’s? I think we must have,” he said, pushing one bottle aside. “But this, this one is a rich, full-bodied red with notes of berries, cinnamon, and liquorice. Very seasonal.”
“How do you know all this about wine?” I asked. I couldn’t remember Kiteverdrinking wine before this week.
“Says so on the bottle,” Kit said, turning it around so I could see the label. “I do know this one’s worth a month’s rent, though.”
“Your month’s rent, or mine?” I asked.
“Our combined total,” Kit responded with a gleam in his eyes. “Shall we see if it’s worth it?”
I couldn’t resist him when he was like this, lit up with mischief. While he searched for a corkscrew, I got up to join him on the other side of the counter and grinned when he looked at me.
“Kiss me,” I said, tugging on the hem of his sweater.
The corkscrew fell onto the countertop with a clatter, all of Kit’s attention focused on me in an instant.
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as he reached out, cupping my jaw, tilting my face up so he could seal his lips over mine. My eyes fell closed as we shared a happy moan, tingles rolling down my spine and making my stomach tight.
“Like kissing you,” I murmured against Kit’s lips, brushing our noses together as I tilted my head to try another angle, fingers curled tightly into his sweater.
“The feeling is—mm—incredibly—ah—” he hissed as I slipped my hand under his clothes. “Mutual.”
I giggled into his mouth.
“Good,” I said. “I could go for some mutual feeling.”
Kit chuckled. “You’re filthy-minded, do you know that?”
“I’m going easy on you,” I said, grinning at him. “We haven’t even scratched the surface of all the filthy things I wanna do to you.”
I’d never, ever get tired of making Kit blush.
“Starting,” I added, holding his hand up to my lips and kissing the knuckles. “With all the fun places I haven’t kissed you yet.”
The blush deepened until Kit’s cheeks were a seasonally-appropriate red, but his eyes were curious. I bit down on the end of his thumb and preened at the hitched breath and tiny shiver.
How had he managed to fool me into thinking he wasn’t interested for so long?
