“And everybody is evil; the most despicable and horrible examples of humanity ever.”
He liked the direction this was taking. “They can’t all be evil though. There has to be one ‘good’ character in there; someone to give it balance.”
She touched her tongue to her top teeth. “Like a Ned Flanders type?”
“Yeah, but not a joke or a parody. Someone people can actually root for.” He searched for the right words. “A despicable antihero can only go so far. You need some light in all that darkness.”
She nodded slowly. “A white knight.” Her fingertips grazed the back of his hand, sending warmth all the way up to his elbow. “Like you.”
She was so achingly beautiful sometimes, she just about killed him. He could easily be in love with her. It was better for them both that he was not. “Am I your white knight?”
“Yes,” she said simply, then her smile turned mischievous, her eyes twinkling. “Without you, I’d always wear black.”
He laughed and some of the tension dissipated. Or perhaps it had never there at all. It was possible all that electric energy was completely one-sided. He wouldn’t put it past himself. Whatever it was, he needed to get over it. “You do always wear black.”
“Hmmm, well, maybe you aren’t all that good an influence.” She squeezed his forearm and then looked away, pressing her fingertips to her lips in a gesture she often made when she was unsure or stressed. “We’ll see if I can make it work.”
He took her hand and met her eyes. She was an incredible artist, the best graphic artist he’d ever had the pleasure of teaming up with, and her comics were off the charts. “It’ll work.”
She held his eyes for a long moment and then nodded. “Yeah.” She squeezed his hand and then let go. “How about you? How was home?”
“Fantastic.” And it had been. He loved seeing his family, spending time with his mom, dad, and brother. A trip home always left him happy and recharged, and this one had come at a particularly good time. It was because of his family’s love and support that he was able to be over Mari as quickly as he had and being with them made him realize a lot about his former relationship. Having sex with a model was outrageously good, but hardly the cornerstone of a healthy partnership. There had always been something missing between them, a disconnect of sorts. Seeing his parents together, witnessing how much they loved one another, allowed him to understand that what he’d felt for Marine had been nice, but never truly love. She had come to him for strength and comfort, and he had enjoyed giving it to her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.
“Hey.” Kat put her hand on his thigh. “She was never worth it, Dean. She never deserved you.”
He gave her a half-smile. Kat disliked Marine from the first day she met her at the photo shoot Ron had commissioned to use for a romance novelist’s website. Mari was the perfect waif heroine, delicate and ethereal. She had an air of vulnerability, an innate fragility. She was a woman who wanted to be held, protected, comforted, and he wanted to be the man that got to do it. He asked her out that very night. Their relationship didn’t last a full year. “We weren’t right for each other, I guess.”
“Whatever,” she said, and he knew from the tone of her voice that she didn’t believe it. “Tell me what you did while you were home.”
“Not a whole lot really. We went skiing like every year, and my brother and I did some more planning for our climb of Holy Cross in May.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Mostly I ate and relaxed and hung out.”
The traffic lurched forward, stopped, lurched again. At this rate, it was going to take forever to get to the West Village. Normally, the delay would drive him nuts, but it had been over a week since he had seen Kat. It was good to catch up with her.
“It sounds great,” she said.
“They asked about you.” He caught a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a little tug. “My mom says hi.” Ever since his parents visited New York, they asked about Kat. They loved her on sight. “You should come next year.”
She sighed. “I’d love to, I would. Your parents are great, but Christmas is my one obligation. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s better than dealing with the year-long guilt trip I’d have to endure otherwise, having to hear about how I don’t love her enough to go and see her once a year on the most important of family holidays. I’d rather go and get it done.”
“Okay,” he said, although it wasn’t, not at all. “The invitation is always open.” He hated what her family did to her, hated the defeat and depression she came back home to New York with every year after a week with those people. There had to be a way for him to shield her from that hurt. Maybe next year he could kidnap her, take her off to Colorado whether she liked it or not. Or even better, he could let her do her obligatory Christmas Eve and day with that god-awful woman and then make her come to Colorado, spend the rest of the holiday break with him. He was certain he could convince her to agree—it would just take some finesse. He thought of how stubborn Kat could be and smiled. Maybe if he started now, he could wear her down by then.
The traffic surged forward as whatever was holding things up cleared out, and they were over the bridge in no time. He leaned back into the seat, listening to the sounds of the city as they wove through lower Manhattan, the rev of truck engines, the squeals of brakes, the snatches of music and screaming and laughter.
He glanced over at the woman at his side, subtly studying her profile. Her blind date was a lucky man. He’d better realize it too. He didn’t understand why she agreed to it, but if it was what she wanted to do, he supported her one hundred percent. If the guy turned out to be an asshole, however, well, then, Dean might have to end up having a conversation with him.
He smiled to himself. God, she would hate that. He could imagine the lecture she would give him if he tried to protect her that way. She was going to have to deal with it, though. She knew what she was getting into when she asked him along, it wasn’t like they’d just met yesterday.
The cab turned onto Hudson, and he caught a glimpse of a couple locked in a passionate embrace under a streetlamp. The woman’s sparkly tiara was askew and the man was missing his shirt, but that didn’t seem to deter them one bit. “Why do you think people kiss at midnight?”
She smiled at him. “You get cursed if you don’t. If you can’t find someone to kiss, all you have to look forward to is bad luck, hairy palms, and failed online dating attempts all year long.”
He laughed. “Yeah, everyone knows that, but how do you think it began? I mean, how did it get decided that if you don’t kiss someone at midnight, your year is doomed?”
She ran her index finger over her bottom lip as she thought it over. “Well, that whole make-loud-noises-and-be-obnoxious-at-midnight thing is supposed to keep the demons away, so maybe it has something to do with that. Maybe a kiss is a protection as well, a safeguard of some sort, to keep evil away from you in the New Year.”
“So, celibacy is evil, then?”
“Some people might argue that it is.”
They both laughed. “Maybe demons don’t like kissing? That doesn’t seem right. You’d think demons would be into anything sexual. More ways to sin, you know?”
“It has to be about more than just sex.” She thought for a second and then turned to him, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Okay, how about this? Kissing is personal. When you kiss, you share another’s breath and breath is life, so maybe kissing is an exchange of sorts, like…” Her fingers danced in the air as the ideas formed in her mind. “Like, sharing your soul. Maybe that’s what it is. You kiss someone and share a piece of your soul with them. That way they keep it safe for you in the New Year. They have a piece of you inside them.” She touched his chest, right over his heart. “Here.” Her eyes met his. “Protected.” A wicked smile blossomed on her lips and then she shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s spinning heads