Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(18)

But he didn’t.

Slowly, he pulled away, mouth hanging open wide enough to remind me of clown face on the fourth hole of the Penance miniature golf course. I never could get the ball into that hole… Bringing his right hand up, he ran a finger along his bottom lip, never taking his eyes from mine. A chill replaced the space he’d vacated. A surprisingly unwelcome one.

Disappointed. I was actually disappointed.

Around us, the sounds of arguing began to taper off. Sirens blared in the distance and a fire truck flew past, the breeze from it sending my loose hair flailing in all directions. Things seemed to be cooling down.

“What were you thinking?” When I didn’t answer, he kept going. “Are you crazy? Why would you do that?”

Wonder what he’d think if I told him he’d just sort of been my first kiss? Heat rose in my cheeks, and I tamped down a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wouldn’t let him see his indifference bothered me. “It was the only thing I could think of. I needed you to snap out of it.”

“And you thought that was the best way to do it?”

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I simply shrugged.

He climbed to his feet. “I lost control—I’m sorry.”

Control? I’d had my face smushed up against his, and he hadn’t taken advantage of it. That was control-a-plenty in my book. Or maybe I’d done something wrong. I wasn’t unkissable, right? I mean, I lacked skill—obviously—but…

He looked around, taking in the disaster. Guilt. It was evident in every twitch of his lip and flinch.

Oops. He was apologizing for the violence, not our almost-lip lock. “It wasn’t that bad,” I lied. Truth was, it’d been terrifying. Like the apocalypse had blown into town and smacked everyone upside the head. And I was worried about kissing? Brain meltdown, Jessie!

“I need to get out of here.” He didn’t wait for me to get up before starting back the way we’d come.

I didn’t argue.





Chapter Eight




It was almost four when we got back to the office. Lukas had settled on the old couch in the waiting area—the one Mom said Grandpa always hated. I could understand his dislike of the thing—and I’d never even met the guy. It looked like cheesy yellow and brown flower-infested curtains had thrown up all over it. To make things worse, the mustard yellow carpet matched the flowers perfectly and reminded me of a bad seventies movie. Most of the pictures on the wall—badly painted scenes of people dressed like pimps—had given me nightmares as a child. The place was a shrine to the days of platform shoes and fringe. I’d been pushing Mom to update the place, but as she pointed out, we were broke.

“You sure you’re okay?” I’d asked at least twelve times since we’d walked through the door. Pale and shaky, at least he didn’t look ready to collapse anymore. His eyes had returned to their normal color and he’d relaxed. For the most part. Every now and then I’d catch him watching me with an odd expression.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You want something to eat? Some water maybe?”

“Water would be nice, thank you.”

A quick dash to the kitchen. When I returned, I set down a glass and settled across from him on the chair. It took a lot to make me feel guilty. Hold your nose, jump in feet first, and think about it later—that was my mantra. When your mom owned an agency that dealt in the creepies, you kind of had to think that way. If I did something rash, it was because it needed to be done. No apologies. Not from me. This time, though, I’d acted stupid. Made a bad choice without thinking through the consequences. Lukas and all those people on the street in The Pit had paid the price because I felt like I had something to prove. “I’m sorry.”

He sipped the water and set it down on the coffee table. “Sorry?”

“That whole thing back there—it was my fault. We could have gone around. I was trying to get the jump on snagging the others.”

“Oh. Yes, it was.”

I held back a smile. Lukas didn’t sugarcoat things. You never had to wonder what he was thinking. It was a nice change from, well, pretty much everyone else. “I didn’t know what would happen.”

“I know.”

“I mean, you seemed to hold it together at school, so I thought…”

He leaned back. “You had no way of knowing my limits.”

“So I did the only thing I could think of.”

“You tried to kiss me.”

Tried? Suddenly my cheeks were flaming for an entirely different reason. “Yeah. Well, I know I lack the experience of someone your age—what are you, like four hundred?”

I could see he was fighting a smile, and it made me want to smack him. This wasn’t funny. “Not quite, no.” His face flushed slightly. “And the kiss was…nice.”

Huh. Didn’t see that coming. My mouth dried out and the breath caught in my throat. It was like someone had sucked all the air from the room—then cranked the heat sky high. My heart started dancing crazy. Like one of Kendra’s crazy speed metal bands.

I cleared my throat. “I think for it to have been considered an actual kiss, there had to be lip movement.” And maybe some tongue—I wasn’t sure. I’d never had a real boyfriend. There was Tommy Jensen in the first grade, but shin kicking followed by a sloppy gum-infested peck on the check didn’t exactly define going steady.