grin. Jude’s accent had sent waves of heat through him before, but right then, it was cute. It made him sound young and sweet—and he was neither. But he liked the idea that there were more sides to him that he hadn’t gotten to see just yet.
Picking up the spoon, he dug into the dumpling. The broth seared his mouth for a second, but after sucking in air, his tongue was coated with a sort of rich, salty flavor. He breathed in through his nose as he savored it, and he saw exactly why this was something Jude craved whenever shit hit the fan.
“If Eliah cooks like this, I see why Smokey keeps his ass around,” he muttered into his third bite.
Jude snorted. “I like to think he wants my brother’s company for more than just his cooking skills. And I can safely say that Eliah isn’t as good at this as I am.”
“Bet that irritates him,” Kicks said with a smile before shoveling more into his face.
Jude laughed, then grabbed his own bowl, though he bypassed the counter and took a seat at the table. Kicks nearly joined him, but instead he cradled the soup in his hands—ignoring the hot ceramic—and turned around to face him.
“Look, I wanted to say sorry for…”
“I hope you don’t think…”
Kicks rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You go.”
Jude’s cheeks flushed a little, and he shrugged, his gaze darting out the window. “I hope you don’t think I’m ungrateful for the help. I know I put up more than a fuss about going with you, and to be an imposition on top of it…”
Kicks took another couple of bites before he answered, just to stop himself from saying something stupid like, ‘I want you here in my space,’ which he had no business thinking. “It’s my job to keep an eye on you,” Kicks said, and when he saw hurt flash through Jude’s eyes, he went on, “but I also kind of like you.”
Jude stared at him for a long moment. “You…kind of like me?”
“You’re less irritating than a lot of people I know,” he answered honestly, then reached over and set his bowl down. “And I think we’ve seen each other in some pretty fucking vulnerable positions.”
He didn’t just mean sex, but he saw when Jude processed that, and it made him half-hard almost instantly.
“I know you didn’t ask for this shit, but it’s not putting me out or whatever—to make sure you and Eliah both get out of this in one piece.”
Jude’s hand moved to his knee, rubbing over the brace, and Kicks wondered if he realized he was doing it. “It was terrifying, you know. Watching you lie there—wondering if you were going to wake up.” He swallowed thickly and glanced away. “When the fire…” He stopped with a heavy breath. “I keep thinking that I wouldn’t have been as strong as Eliah. I think he probably would have killed me.”
“From what I heard,” Kicks said, hopping off the stool and crossing over to sit next to him, “you literally gave your brother everything he needed to get us the fuck out of there.”
Jude’s lip twisted up in a grimace. “I distracted him with bullshit philosophy. I’ve always been good at talking.”
“You’re goddamn good at thinking on your feet.” Kicks paused and waited for Jude to look at him. “You saved my life.”
His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue, but after a beat, he just set his spoon in the bowl and sat back. “I keep wondering what the bloody hell is wrong with me that I don’t go home. I know why Eliah stayed. More than just falling in love with Aaron. He’s…we’ve never really been much alike. I was always so reckless and angry, but I was also so much more afraid than he ever was.” He glanced down at his knee. “This has been hell, and I’ve wanted to tell him so many times since I got hurt that I don’t know how he does it. But it seems so cruel to devalue his body and experience like that.”
Kicks nodded. He understood in more ways than one, but he rarely let himself think about what it was like—recovering from his attack. The pain that lingered, losing his eye, learning to cope without depth perception. “You don’t have to be like him to be worthy of peace or whatever it is you’re looking for. You know that, right?”
Jude glanced up at him. He looked young again and