Page 109 of The Last Inch Of Ice
Kai watches his jaw clench so hard he’s genuinely afraid it might crack. The muscle jumps beneath his stubble, his dark eyes tracking over Kai’s face with an intensity that makes Kai’s carefully constructed defenses feel paper-thin.
“You know,” Kai says, his voice falling into that lazy, infuriating drawl he uses when he’s terrified, “it’s considered polite to give a person some warning before you show up at their home. You know, a text. A call. I believe it’s called good manners. You might have heard of the concept.”
Nazar doesn’t respond. Just stalks forward with that predatory stride he has, eating up the distance between them in four steps.
He crowds Kai against the wall, his presence filling all the available space.
Oh God.
“Did he do it?” The words come out raw, barely controlled. There’s a violent undercurrent in his voice that sends an involuntary shiver down Kai’s spine.
“Did who do what?” Kai’s going for confused innocence. It’s not his best work.
“Take off the fucking glasses.”
Kai lets out a weary sigh—the kind he’s perfected over years of dealing with people who think they’re entitled to parts of him he hasn’t offered. “Oh,that. Speaking of which, could you be a dear and run out to Shoppers Drug Mart? I need concealer. Heavy coverage, full opacity. MAC makes a good one, though Fenty’s is better for my undertone. If you hurry, the paparazzi across the street might still be able to get a shot of you. Won’t that be fun for both our publicists?”
“I don’t give a shit if they take my picture.”
“Is that so?” Kai tilts his head, a gesture he knows makes him look insufferable. “How noble. Very martyr-complex of you. I’m swooning.”
“Kai.” Nazar’s voice drops to that low, dangerous register. “I swear to God, if you don’t tell me who hit you right now, I will not be responsible for the consequences. It was that guy, wasn’t it? Rey?”
The genuine, murderous fury in his eyes — the way his hands are clenched into fists at his sides, the tension radiating off him — is so startling that Kai’s carefully constructed facade develops significant structural cracks.
This is someone barely holding themselves back from committing violence on his behalf.
No one has ever looked at him like this. Like hurting Kai is a personal offense that demands retribution.
Kai turns and walks into the living room before he does something stupid like cry. “No,” he says, his voice coming out flat despite his best efforts. “It wasn’t Rey. It doesn’t matter. It’ll be gone in a few days. Bruises heal. It’s fine. And for the record, I don’t sleep with Rey. I don’t date him either. In case you were wondering.”
He sinks onto the sofa and gestures vaguely at the cushion beside him.
Nazar follows, moving like he’s approaching something that might bolt.
He sits, and Kai can feel the heat radiating off him, can hear his breathing—too fast, too shallow. His body is tense.
Kai can feel his pulse in his throat. He’s acutely aware of how close Nazar is, how the cushions dip slightly toward him, creating a gravitational pull Kai has to actively resist.
He holds his breath as Nazar reaches out — slowly, gently, like Kai might shatter — and lifts the sunglasses from his face.
The movement is so tender it makes Kai’s chest ache.
He wants to look away, to close his eyes, to be anywhere but here having this moment witnessed. But he forces himself to stay still, to let Nazar see.
Nazar inhales sharply through his nose, the sound harsh in the quiet apartment. His gaze is fixed on the bruise.
His father’s signet ring had caught him perfectly, the heavy gold leaving an imprint Kai can still feel when he touches his cheekbone.
Then Nazar leans in and kisses him.
Not the mouth. The bruise itself. A barely-there press of lips against damaged skin, so gentle it’s almost reverent.
And it’s the thing that finally, completely undoes him.
Everything goes haywire. All the careful control Kai’s been maintaining, it all collapses.
His hands are in Nazar’s hair before he consciously decides to move, fingers tangling in the too-long strands that need cutting.
