Mike didn't actually blame Elliot anymore for what had happened. Not really, even if he still refused to talk to the guy. He didn't even blame Kitty really, though there was no helping being irrationally angry. It was irrational for a reason, after all. Sure Mike tended toward flannels and jeans, but an occasional hat had been known to make it to his wardrobe when he was in a Fred Astaire sort of mood. He knew his classics and he paid a homage now and then in his dancing and style. So it had been easy for Kitty to mistake Elliot for him and, well, Kitty was a pretty woman. He didn't really blame Elliot for not stopping the kiss. He doubted Kitty had given him much warning because who took the time to say they were going to kiss you?
So he wasn't blaming anyone, never had really, and he finally had enough time to cool down.
"Yeah, I shouldn't have walked off like that," Mike said, rubbing the back of his head as he peered down at Kitty. "I shouldn't have said what I did either, to you or Elliot. I'm really sorry about that."