Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,38

run my fingers through his hair and pull his head to my stomach. Kit turns in his chair, dragging me in between his legs as I wrap my arms around him. His arms circle around my hips and pull me close as he trembles, emotion ripping through him like a chainsaw.

I can feel it.

I can sense the hurt pulsing through his veins. I can see the pain tightening his muscles, and all I want to do is take it away.

Taking a gentle finger, I tilt his chin up to look at me. I run my hand over his cheek as he sighs, leaning into my touch.

“Clinging onto your anger will only make it fester, Kit,” I say softly. “I’ve seen what that does to a person. It ruins them. Changes them. Turns them into a shadow of who they used to be.”

Kit’s eyes open as he stares at me. He lets out a long sigh, his hands tightening around my waist. I hold him close, running my fingers through his silky hair as he trembles against me.

I close my eyes, loving how it feels to have him lean on me. I can feel him building himself back up again as his emotion ebbs away, until he takes a deep breath and loosens his hold on my waist. As soon as his touch is gone, I miss it.

“I’ll clean up,” he says.

I smile, letting my hands drop from his shoulders and stepping back. When I turn to grab a plate, I feel his hand on my arm.

“I’ll do it, Serena,” he says. “You cooked. The least I can do is clean.”

Biting my lip, I try to hold back my emotion. I pour us both some more wine as Kit tidies up the kitchen and dining table, and then he leads me to the living room where we lounge on the sofa.

After a time, he glances over at me. “You’re right.”

“Can you be more specific?” I grin. “I’m right about a lot of things.”

He chuckles. “About Finn and Esme. My anger is only hurting them and hurting myself.”

I reach over to put a hand on his thigh. He covers my palm with his and brings my fingers up to his lips. My heart clenches as he kisses my fingers, and I long to move closer to him.

But Kit drops my hand, drains his glass, and stands up. “I’d better get to bed. See you in the morning.”

The lump in my throat stops my voice from working, so all I do is nod. I watch him disappear into his room and I stare at the closed door, feeling empty and hopeful at the same time.

Kit is hurt, but he doesn’t want to lash out. I saw the vulnerable side of him tonight, and I believe he wants to mend his relationships with Finn and Esme.

He’s not the type of guy who will let his wounds fester and destroy him. He’ll face his problems and try to heal, and for that, I respect him more than I did before. Seeing him grow before my eyes makes me feel hope.

Hope that I can find someone who will treat me better than Angelo.

Hope that some men have emotional intelligence and the courage to admit they’re wrong.

Hope that maybe these feelings budding for Kit aren’t unfounded and unreturned. My attraction to him isn’t a rebound. It’s not pathetic. In him, I see the promise of a man who can be strong and vulnerable at the same time. He doesn’t see forgiveness as a weakness. He might just be as good as he seems.

15

Kit

When I wake up, I go for a run and end up at the skydiving booking center in town. Jogging to the back door, I grab the spare key from underneath a potted plant and let myself inside. My shoes clang on the steel staircase leading to Finn’s apartment as my heart thumps. I’m not sure if it’s nervousness or the after-effects of my run.

My money’s on nerves.

When I knock on the door, I hear rustling on the other side. My heart bangs even harder against my ribs, so hard I’m afraid they’ll shatter.

Last time I was here, I told Finn I quit. I turned my back on our friendship and our business, and I walked out of his life.

Now, I want the opposite.

Esme opens the door, dressed in black from head to toe with her shaved head bare. She smiles, opening the door wider.

“Hey, Kit.”

“Hey, sis,” I say, reaching over to ruffle her buzzed