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“I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink,” says Finn. That gets a big nod from me. Nic looks tense, his jaw bunching. He doesn’t say anything.
Crossroads.
I move slowly next to Nic and slide my hand into the crook of his arm.
“You too, Nic.”
Nic looks down at my hand. I look Finn straight in the eye.
He looks down at my hand, too, wrapped around Nic’s arm. Brings his gaze back to mine. His eyes widen slightly. He nods slowly.
“You heard the lady,” says Finn. “You’re with us, boss.”
The car ride is quiet and mercifully short at this hour. Plenty of people are out in the city for a fun Friday night, but they’re all walking, enjoying the warmest weather we’ve had yet this month. I follow Nic up the stairs when we arrive at their apartment building, feeling Finn’s eyes on my back all the while. Awareness prickles my skin, and as we reach the landing for their floor, there’s that word again.
Crossroads.
Nic stops in front of his door, Finn and me right behind him. Nic doesn’t turn to look.
“You going to invite us in, boss?”
Finn’s question puts a kink in the air—a twinge, an edge of something I can’t quite put my finger on. Nic stiffens, unlocking the door and pushing inside. I think I’ve been wrong—there’s no way this is headed where I thought it was—and the door starts closing.
Nic stops it with one hand, holding it open for us as he steps to one side.
Finn looks at me questioningly. I twine my shaking fingers through his, and we follow Nic into the apartment.
I’ve been here before, of course. The day I couldn’t find Cat, when I met Finn during the search. Before that, too, back when I still wondered if my boss was really an emotionless cyborg or possibly just a regular old robot. Whatever I thought then, I was wrong. Nic looks so tightly wound; I’m afraid he might break if I touch him.
He crosses the room, pulls down glasses, and pours some liquor slowly. Brings the drinks to us in the living area.
“What a night,” says Finn. He sits beside me on the couch, too close for casual company.
“You can say that again,” says Nic.
He chooses the leather chair off to our right. Tonight is the most unbuttoned I’ve ever seen him the whole time I’ve known him, and my heart beats a bit faster. He’d shucked his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves while we were cleaning up, but sitting here, drink in hand, his tie and suspenders make him look dangerous. Like a 1930s gangster. Which is so unlike the Nic Pendergrass I know, it’s like looking at a stranger.
His cheeks are flushed, and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Finn’s big, rough hand covers my knee, and it stirs me up enough to ask the question I’ve been dying to ask all night.
“What happened in the elevator?”
Finn goes still beside me. Nic appears to stop breathing altogether.
He sits up, downs the rest of his drink, and sets the glass on the coffee table with a crack.
“I kissed Finn.”
My jaw drops.
“But… you were… you…” Even though I had suspected, even though I’d fantasized about it, I’m shocked at his words.
“Technically, he kissed me before we got on the elevator. What you saw was me about to kiss him,” says Finn, tension threading through every word.
“I thought you were going to punch me,” says Nic.
“It was a toss-up.”
I lean forward slowly, setting my own glass down gently. Nic watches my every move, tabulating my reaction, working out how much damage control needs to be done. I know he thinks I’m about to get up and leave.
