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“You really need to get a place you like to sleep in,” Royce grumbled.
Quinn gave a little shrug as he took his first real drink. He and Royce had somehow settled into this routine of bringing each other coffee whenever Royce wasn’t out on a job. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they just sat silently in the same room together before they separated to work. With Royce, he was comfortable and he liked that.
Over the past several months, that comfort had grown into Royce harassing him about finding a place to live that he liked. Quinn couldn’t get himself to explain things weren’t that simple. He had a feeling Royce knew there was more to it, but he never demanded to know more.
“I needed to game last night. Clear my head.”
Royce looked up and frowned at the screen for a second. “That’s the assassin game, right? Problem with the case? Or problem with the dick?”
Quinn sucked in air on his question and nearly choked on his coffee. That last question was so loaded that he didn’t want to even fucking touch it, though he knew Royce was just referring to the private eye. But few things got past Royce. He was afraid he’d ask if he suspected more.
“It’s…complicated,” Quinn hedged, then fell silent. Royce didn’t talk, demanding more details. He wished he could discuss the mayor’s case with Royce. He was always a great sounding board. While computers weren’t his specialty, he had his own unique experiences and perspective that gave Quinn an angle he usually never considered.
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” Quinn suddenly asked in a rush before he could stop the words. But he immediately regretted the question as pain carved vicious lines through Royce’s handsome face for several seconds before he could wipe it away. Quinn wanted to reach out, to ask him what had happened to cause him such pain, but he held perfectly still, waiting for Royce to recover. The man didn’t talk about himself or his past. Quinn knew if he’d reached out to Royce, he would have walked away and they might never have another one of their shared coffees again.
“Really?” Royce stopped and cleared his throat when the single word came out rough and broken. “You falling for that dick already?”
“Fuck no,” Quinn said on a forced laugh, willing air back into his lungs as relief coursed through him. “I was just thinking. He does the whole casual fling thing with whomever, but then you’ve got Rowe and Noah in a serious relationship. Andrei is getting married in a couple of months. Even Sven has moved in with Geoffrey. Relationships work for some people. But then Shane appears to be the exact opposite and just as happy.”
“If you’re looking for normal, you’re not going to find a set thing. Monogamous relationships or casual sex doesn’t matter. You do what works for you. That’s it.” Royce watched him, his frown deepening.
“What?” Quinn asked, his hand tightening on the coffee cup.
“You don’t strike me as the casual type.”
Quinn shrugged, forcing himself to hold Royce’s gaze. “Maybe I am. Just a little fun, right? Maybe I just haven’t met the right kind of person for that fun.”
Royce’s expression didn’t clear and he shook his head. “Don’t force yourself into being something you’re not.”
“What serious shit did I just walk into?”
Royce and Quinn looked up to find Dominic standing in the doorway, his green eyes moving from Royce to Quinn. In his hand was a large blue mug with a picture of Mister Rogers from the children’s show on it and dozens of little sayings Mister Rogers was famous for. Dominic always found the weirdest mugs.
“And then there’s Dominic,” Royce continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “He simply fucks anything that moves.”
“Hey! I’ve got to be selective now. They’re just throwing themselves at me.” He paused and nodded matter-of-factly. “It’s the scars.”
“Whatever,” Quinn said, taking another sip of his coffee. He didn’t mind working out of Shane’s office, but it felt good to be back at Ward Security—even if it was only for a little while. This was home.
“I’m serious. This one,” he said, pointing to the new pink scar along his left cheek that cut back toward his ear. “They all start by asking about what happened with this one. With their ooohhhs and awwwws and ‘poor baby.’ ”
“Oh lord,” Royce muttered and Quinn snickered. Dominic had been injured in an explosion when a bunch of the guys had gone in to rescue Geoffrey from his stalker. Dominic had suffered the worst of it, requiring him to stay in the hospital for a week as he recovered.
Most men would have come out looking worse with the scars, but somehow with Dominic’s red hair and devilish grin, he simply looked more rakish and enticing. And of course, Dominic simply embraced it, adding it to his natural charm.
