Fold

She tucks her chin down and covers her face with her hands like she's trying to shield herself from a dangerous storm.

It breaks my goddamn heart.

“Kit.” I don't recognize my voice. There's a note of warmth in it that I've never heard before.

She looks at me through her fingers and our gazes clash.

Everything inside me stirs, sends me spiraling into unchartered territory.

The co

But I won't let it. Because if she's headed for a crash, I want to be the one to soften her landing.

No, more than that. I don't just want to break her fall, I want to crash with her. This way, she never has to go through it alone.

I hold out my arms and her response is automatic. A gravitational force that pulls her to me like a magnetic tether. Permanently binding us.

The moment she's in my arms and all four of her limbs wrap around me, something changes.

For the most part, I tend to operate on supersonic speed—lights, colors, all sorts of stimuli whiz through my brain. It puts my body in a constant state of fight or flight as it desperately struggles to keep up with my impulsive need for more, more, more. The only time my neurons aren't firing rapidly is when I'm drunk or sleeping.

But right now? It's like my circuits have been regulated.

Kit doesn't drown out the noise, dull the colors or slow things down.

No. She centers me. Makes it easier to take everything in.

Like the smell of her hair. It's some kind of fruity mixture, maybe blueberry or raspberry. Whatever it is, it's intoxicating.

My hands slide down her lower back, stopping when I reach the little indents above her ass, and fuck me sideways because her skin feels like warm satin. So delicate and smooth.

It makes my heart shift into overdrive.

Or maybe not, because it's not my heart thumping wildly against my chest like a feral animal stuck in a cage.

It's hers.

It throws me for such a loop, I briefly forget the reason she's in my arms to begin with.

“You're not crazy.” I cup her cheek, waiting for her to look at me. “You're colorful and beautiful and unconventional. A unique blend of heart and fire that should never be diluted. A girl who's so imperfectly perfect, she steals my breath.”

Tears fill her eyes and she clutches me tighter.

“They existed,” I whisper when she lays her head on my shoulder. “I'm holding the evidence right here in my arms.”

And I don't want to let her go.

The seconds stretch between us for what feels like forever before she speaks. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She sniffles. “For this. For not calling me a basket case. For saying the nice things you did.”

I want to tell her she never has to thank me for that, because I meant what I said, but she lifts her head.

I'm not sure what to make of the expression on her face.

“I have to ask you something important and I need you to tell me the truth.”

“Not a problem.”

“Are you still with Becca?”

I shake my head so hard I'm surprised it doesn't detach from my body. “No.”

She eyes me skeptically. “You swear?”

I meet her stare. “On my life. We are over. So over I'm go

“Are you sure—”

“Finito.”

“So you don't have any—”

“Niet.”

“Okay, because s—”

“Caput.”

“Preston.”

“Persona non-fucking-grata, Kit. We're done.”

Relief flashes across her face. “So it's really true then. God, I was so worried you two were still together and I was some kind of homewrecker. Or worse, that you still had feelings for her and we—”

I cut her off because I need her to believe me. Especially now that she's made it clear she wants to pursue whatever this thing is between us just as much as I do.

“You have nothing to worry about. In fact, part of the reason I came here today was so I could tell you we were over.” I tip her chin. “Believe me, the only feelings I have for her are the murderous kind. If I never see her again in my lifetime it will be too soon.”

Her eyes narrow into tiny slits. “Won't that be a little difficult considering she's—”

“Still living with me?” I grind my molars. “Yeah, not for long. I'll be getting rid of that succubus and her bastard baby for good.”

Kit's mouth drops open and she frantically motions for me to put her down.

The moment I do, she shoves me. “What the fuck, Preston? Becca told me how bad you treated her last night, but it's so much worse than I thought.”

Her statement roots me to the spot and I shake my head, certain I must have misheard her.

Right as I open my mouth to ask her what the hell is going on, an authoritative voice shouts, “Police!”