Chapter 16
WAR
Kit’s head was on my shoulder, his hair trailing across my neck like stray wool.
For a second, I didn’t know where I was.
Not the usual kind of morning confusion, either.
This feeling was actual peace, something so strange for my body that for a few fragile heartbeats I thought I’d flatlined.
No sharp slam of a nightmare at the back of my skull.
No cold sweat or that jumpy, skin-prickling certainty that I’d broken some rule of reality during the night and the universe was about to come for payment.
Just warmth. Sheets heavy and hot as bread fresh from the oven, while Kit’s thigh draped over my leg and weighed me down in the best way.
His breathing was slow, deeper than I’d ever heard when he was awake.
Every few seconds he’d mumble, barely above a whisper, probably wrestling with something abstract like a thesis statement or a new anxiety spiral.
I tried to listen, but it was all muffled vowels with no teeth.
I stayed still for a while, just letting the simple and easy solace fill every hollow in me. It would evaporate as soon as I got up, so I pressed my luck and watched the morning seep across the ceiling, thin and gray. Kit shifted against me and the spell broke.
He opened one eye, groggy and annoyed at the light, and grunted. “You awake?”
“Unfortunately.”
He made a face. “That’s your best answer? We slept together in the same bed, and you’re leading with unfortunately?”
“Habit.” I chuckled. “Give me a few years. Might improve.”
He snorted, and the sound vibrated against my ribs.
He must’ve shifted overnight because the blanket was twisted around our ankles and his bare knee was digging a bruise into my thigh.
I thought about moving, but according to Derek, Kit never got up before he had to.
I didn’t want to ruin his morning by letting him realize he’d just spent over ten hours wrapped around a man who sometimes needed a running start just to get out of bed.
He craned his head back, squinting at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. “It’s not even six. How are you awake?”
“Muscle memory. I slept, which is a win.”
That actually woke him up. He rolled onto his back and blinked at the ceiling, like he was waiting for it to drip blood or cave in or do whatever happened in horror movies when the tension snapped. “You slept?” He said it with the awe of someone who’d just found out his dog could talk.
“Don’t get used to it. Could be an accident.”
Kit smirked. “That’s what you’d say about us, too.” He caught me off guard, and he knew it, so he pushed his luck. “Are you gonna get up or do I have to bribe you with coffee?”
“Coffee sounds nice. Do you even drink the stuff, though?”
“No.” He chuckled. “But maybe I can start.”
“Don’t, it’s a bad habit.”
I pulled myself up on one elbow and watched him flop onto his stomach. There was a faint bruised shadow under both of his eyes, and I assumed it was from the emotional hangover of returning to real life.
He looked so pathetic and sweet at the same time while half asleep that I couldn’t help it, I leaned down and kissed the side of his head, right where the hair parted. He made a surprised “mmf” sound, then laughed. “Morning breath, War. Do you want to die?”
“I’ve smelled worse. You ever bunk with Nitro?”
He shuddered. “Then, I’d really be dead.”
Kit stretched like a cat, arms above his head, which pulled the sheet dangerously low on his back.
My shirt had ridden up and the boxers hung low on his hips.
I let my eyes wander, enjoying the delicious sight he made.
He’d lost all self-consciousness, and I loved this version of him.
I wanted him to be comfortable around me as much as I wanted him to wear my clothes because goddamn, he was gorgeous in them.
He looked over his shoulder, trying to catch my expression. “Are you, like, okay? Because last night you kind of—”
“I’m fine,” I said, maybe too fast. “You don’t have to check.”
Kit didn’t argue. He knew better. Instead, he poked my shoulder. “Can we make waffles? Or am I supposed to eat protein bars until I wither away?”
“We can try.” I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t blame me if the fire department gets called. Waffles is something I can’t say I’m the best at.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
I didn’t answer. Making waffles couldn’t be too hard, right?
I didn’t make a habit of eating them, so I wasn’t entirely sure.
I got up, peeled off the blanket, and walked down the stairs to the tiny apartment kitchen to see what damage awaited.
Kit padded after me, feet slapping the tile, all long limbs and sleepy eyes that made my heart go soft and crumbly.
He rummaged through the pantry until he found the emergency jar of Nutella, then brandished it like a rare artifact.
Which it might be because I’d forgotten I had it in there.
Nitro had brought the jar over a few months ago when he was going through a family drama, but he hadn’t even opened it.
“You wanna go for the main course or pretend to be healthy first?”
“Coffee, then Nutella. Order matters.”
He scooped a spoonful and pointed it at me, chocolate glistening. “You sure you don’t want dessert first?”
“You do remember I’m former navy, right? I like putting real food in my body.”
He laughed and nodded toward me, making a show of licking his lips. “Can’t forget when you look like that.”
I glanced at him as I grabbed my favorite chipped coffee mug, the one with faded blue stripes and a hairline crack near the handle. “I could snap you in half.”
His eyes went all shiny. “Yes, please. When do we start?”
I snorted.
He plopped on the counter and watched me fiddle with the ancient coffeemaker, which groaned and hissed like it was haunted. Kit followed my every move. I could feel his stare, hot on my neck.
It was so domestic I wanted to laugh or maybe punch a wall just to break the illusion before I got too attached. I told myself he was staying and he was safe with my heart.
“I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, suddenly serious. “About not leaving.”
Maybe he was a mind reader. Or my expression spoke too much for me.
I nodded, eyes on the coffee as it dripped in slow, uneven spurts.
Kit got off the counter, padded over, and put his hand on my hip, tentative and sweet. “And I know you’re a big, manly navy SEAL who struggles with feelings, but . . . .”
He searched for the right word, as if he hadn’t already solved every problem in his life by just talking them into submission.
“You can say it. I’m not gonna run for the hills.”
He bit his lip, and for once, he looked shy, like he was the one being asked to leap out of a plane with no parachute. “I love you,” he said, quick and quiet, like it was a secret he hadn’t already shared back in St. Loren.
Still, hearing it again made my hands tremble. I set the mug down before I shattered it.
“I know.” My voice came out a rasp, thin and uneven. “I love you, too.”
Kit grinned, wide and stupid, and for the first time in years I wanted to stay in a moment instead of letting it dissolve behind me.
Then, my phone buzzed. Three times, insistent and sharp, ruining a moment I hadn’t planned but was enjoying. Goddamn it.
Kit’s smile faded, but he didn’t let go of my hand. “Duty calls?”
“Probably,” I said, pulling the phone from my sweatpants pocket.
It was Derek. Not a call, just a text.
Derek
Is he there?
I typed back and hit Send.
War
Yeah. He’s here and safe.
Fuck. Maybe I should’ve made sure Kit let Derek know where he’d be staying. It was stupid, but Kit had distracted me, which was an easy feat, apparently.
The response came immediately.
Derek
I’m coming over.
I put the phone away and looked at Kit. “Your dad’s coming here. In person.”
He grimaced, but there was no fear in it. Just resignation. “Do we have to let him in?”
“Technically, we could barricade the door,” I teased, knowing I would never do that to Derek, especially because Derek had saved my life when I’d needed it the most. “But he’d send someone to chainsaw it open.”
Kit considered that. “Do you have a chainsaw?”
“No, but your father does. It’s in the trunk of his BMW. Don’t ask why.”
He actually laughed at that, a real laugh, and for a second, I felt the old boundary between us—boss’s son and employee—snap and fall away.
“Guess I should put on some clothes. Wouldn’t want to scar him for life.”
I looked down at him, pale and beautiful and alive, and heat went straight to my cock. Down, boy. Your boss will be here soon. “You could wear a hazmat suit and you’d still scare him.”
Kit liked that. He went into the bedroom with me following and rummaged for a T-shirt which happened to be mine, because they were all mine, and pulled it on inside out.
He was obviously too distracted to care.
I stared at him for a very long moment, amazed he was mine to watch.
I couldn’t bring myself to look away. He was handsome, and I didn’t know how I’d caught his attention, but now that I had it, I didn’t want to lose it.
I dressed as well, and I was quicker than him from the years of training and needing to be ready in a heartbeat. I winked at him and went back to the kitchen.
I poured the coffee, fixed a mug for Kit in a way I thought he may enjoy—way too much sugar, a drop of heavy cream, borderline undrinkable. When he came back into the kitchen, he sipped the sludge and made a pleased little noise. One point to War. Fuck yeah.
“You’re good at this,” he said.
“At what?”
He shrugged. “Being a person, not a soldier.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just watched him drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed with every sip and his eyes closed with the enjoyment I craved to see from him. If this was what he liked, I’d give it to him every morning. I’d have the coffee ready before he even woke.