Page 64

I don’t like handouts. Not from anyone, but especially from Kit, especially from Kit. Kit, who could never owe me anything, who I’ve already taken more than⁠—

“Nah, man.” I hold the bills back out. “I don’t⁠—”

“Take it,” Kit says, hands still in pockets, and steps back so I can’t even push the money back into his chest.

“Fox?” Tink, again. I can hear the faint tap-tap of her shoes from the opposite hallway.

Kit swallows and glances past me at the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he says quickly. “If you’re done⁠—”

“Kit,” I say, trying to protest, but he’s already slipped past me and shut the door. Locked it, too, with a thunk.

Well, shit. Reluctantly, I put his hundreds in my left back pocket—to keep them separate from mine—and head toward the landing of the loft, where I sit on the couch a little stupidly, elbows on knees, and brush my fingertips against each other between my legs as I wait.

I guess we can discuss some kind of plan on the way over, or—no, she’ll probably want to go on my bike. I hadn’t even thought of that. I scratch the back of my head. I mean, she’s probably gonna be dressed a little differently, so⁠—

“There you are.” I look up, and…

Oh. Wow. She looks totally different. Completely.

She’s got on this kind of fluffy fur coat, grayish with spots or polka dots that sort of reminds me of Cruella de Vil, and heels, really skinny black ones that are four, maybe five, inches and make her as tall as I am, practically. And in between, the edge of a dress peeks out—at least, I think she has a dress on, under there. I hope.

To her side, Wendy’s hovering. Very interested in me, I realize. And my reaction.

“Hey. Hi. Hi there.” I swallow a few thousand times and jump to my feet, which I realize I haven’t done yet, and clamp my hands together at the small of my back. I nod again. “Um…you’re ready?”

“I think I am,” Tink says, and gives a little laugh. She’s wearing makeup, I realize. Not a ton, but lipstick and eyelash stuff and blush or something that makes her cheeks sparkle a little. She’s…

She’s such a girl.

A pretty girl.

My heart pounds in my chest.

“What do you think?” Tink says, and she almost sounds a little nervous. “Think this’ll pass?”

With that, she spreads her arms a little so that the coat falls open, and I can see the full effect of her dress—green, tight, and short—with these little cutouts at the waist, so that the curves of her hips are peeking out.

“Oh yeah,” I say quickly. “You’re green. I mean, great. You’re good. It’s good.”

Goddammit. I sound like an idiot.

Wendy giggles.

“You look nice too,” Tink says, folding her arms again and nodding at my outfit. “Very, uh…”

“Bro-y?” I offer. She laughs, and it’s a really nice laugh.

“Basically,” she says. “But that’s what we’re going for, right?”

“Yep.” I nod. “Just two regular gamblers out for a night of fun.”

Tink nods back. “Think we need some kind of cover story beyond that?”

“Oh, I…” I literally hadn’t thought about it. Again, I scratch the back of my head, which I realize is going to mess up the way I’ve tried to do my hair all neat. “I mean, I guess I’m trying to show off, for you, right, which is why I’m spending so big, and…” I shrug.

“And I’m the arm candy?” Tink says. Now she lifts a hand to her hair, and mutters something I can’t quite hear.

“What?” I ask.