Page 113 of Cross & Crown

Kelly turned so he could see Nick. He rested his chin

on Nick’s chest, peering up at him. “I think we needed this,”

Kelly admitted.

“What?”

“I think we’re based off murder and mayhem.” Kelly

pushed up, sitting cross-legged and facing Nick. “We’ve never

known each other in times of peace.”

“Sure we have,” Nick argued. He tried to sit up, but Kelly

put a hand on his chest and shoved him back down. For some

reason it was easier to talk to Nick when he was lounging,

wearing a pair of Red Sox pajama bottoms and little else.

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“No we haven’t,” Kelly countered. “Even after being

discharged, every time we got together, we got in trouble.

Or wemadetrouble. It’s in our nature, babe. And then New Orleans happened. It took me taking a bullet in the chest and

almost dying to realize I was attracted to you. I just . . . I think our foundations are built on gunpowder and I’m just afraid

they’re going to . . .”

“Kels,” Nick whispered. “Jesus Christ, are you breaking up

with me right now? Because that’s kind of what this feels like.”

Kelly smiled gently. “Do you want me to?”

“Well, no!” Nick sat up again, and this time Kelly didn’t

stop him. “I swear to God, we’ll go somewhere soon where it’s

not fucking possible for us to be shot at. Vacation in . . . Amish country or something. I’ll prove we don’t need it.”

Kelly laughed and shook his head. Nick gripped the back

of his neck, pul ing their faces closer. “If our foundations are built on gunpowder, then so be it. They’re foundations all the

same.”

Then his fingers loosened, and he dragged his thumb over

Kelly’s cheekbone, letting the backs of his fingers drift along Kelly’s jaw and then trailing the tips down his neck.

“I love you,” Nick whispered. “Has nothing to do with

the circumstances, or our history, or how close to death

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