He lifted the drink to his mouth and sipped slowly at it. When he lowered it, a bit of foam stuck to his lip, captured by his tongue in a way that made Kat feel warm inallthe best places.
When he met her gaze, his eyebrow raising, Kat quickly averted her eyes.
Still, Olin went on as if he hadn’t caught her ogling him. “Difficult case. Some of the time I can go home and sleep like nothing happened, but other times? Other times the faces stick with me, especially until I can catch the person behind it all.”
Kat nodded, understanding that. She wasn’t a cop or anything like that, but she held grudges with the best of them. Even when the crime was as small as being rude to her friend, she had a strong sense of justice that required retribution.
When dealing with issues like murder and gang violence, Kat could understand how he might lose sleep. In fact, it would bother her far more to find out he slept with no issue after seeing such horrors. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s part of the job.” Even that statement made her feel like he was holding something back.
But it did bring up another thought, something Kat had heard around but had trouble believing. “I heard a rumor about you.”
“Yeah? Were you asking around?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just a humble keeper of knowledge.”
“Uh-huh. Well, sacred keeper of knowledge, what’s the rumor?”
Kat ran her finger around the rim of her cup as she forced herself to ask. “I heard that you used to go to Sanctuary.”
Part of her expected him to furrow his eyebrows, to ask what she was talking about. Sanctuary wasn’t the best kept secret, but most people in town knew little about it unless they’d been.
He laughed softly, breaking some of the tension. “Yeah, I used to go.”
“Used to?”
“It’s been…” He paused, as if doing math in his head. “Damn, it’s been seven years maybe?”
“What happened? Did you settle down or something?” She left the other part off, the question of if he’d settled down with someone vanilla. Few people entirely left the lifestyle, though life could easily get in the way and make it so participation wasn’t always possible for a person. When they just stopped coming at all, it was often due to a partner who didn’t care for the place or some other issue that happened there.
“Me? Settle down?” He made a derisive sound, as if the idea were preposterous. “No, nothing like that. Sanctuary just stopped being a good fit for me. It’s like a pair of pants—they can be great at first but sometimes, after a while, they start to chafe.”
Kat thought about her own feelings and understood what he meant. At least, to some extent.
“I heard you’re not going either.” Olin broached that carefully, as if he knew it was a hard question.
“I guess you could say it’s chafing a little for me, too. I used to love being there—it felt like home.”
“And now?”
“Now it’s like…like in those amusement park rides where everything is dark except for what they want you to see. That’s how it was before. Then someone turned the lights on, and I saw all the wires and the gears and now the ride doesn’t feel so magical.” As she spoke, Kat frowned. That sounded like some poetic bullshit, like something she deserved to be laughed at for saying.
Except, Olin wasn’t laughing. He stared at her, his face impossible to read, his expression intense. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Still, don’t let something you love slip away just because it doesn’t feel so safe anymore.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“You could,” he said with a laugh. “But that doesn’t make me wrong—just bad at taking my own advice.”
“Well, when I seeyouthere again, I’ll go.” Kat threw out the ultimatum like a joke, wanted Olin to realize just how stupid it was to tell her to go when he wouldn’t.
“Deal.”
That stopped Kat cold as she jerked her gaze to his. “Excuse me?”
“Deal. You said you’d go when I do. How about Saturday?”
Kat’s mouth dropped open, the turn of events one she couldn’t have predicted or readied herself for. The fact was that she often made such flippant remarks—she sure as hell hadn’t expected him to call her on it. “That isn’t such a good—”