I can hear small sounds from the kitchen. Cabinet doors closing softly. The low hum of the coffee maker. I pull on jeans and a shirt and step out, padding softly in my bare feet down the hall and into the kitchen.
Quinn stands at the counter, hair twisted up messily, stirring cream into a mug. She glances over her shoulder when she hears me. Her smile hesitates for half a second before settling. “Morning.”
I nod toward the coffee. “Is this my consolation prize?”
Her brows lift. “Consolation for what?”
“For daring me to do bad things last night and not being able to deliver” I smirk, dragging a hand through my hair, not sure what to do with the nervous energy skittering through my veins.
Color rises faintly in her cheeks. She looks down at her mug, hiding a smile. “I definitely do not think the term,saved by the bell, could be applied to us in any way.”
I chuff my agreement and take a few steps, entering the actual kitchen space. I lean against the counter beside her, close enough to feel the warmth coming off her. “There’s always later.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. The air shifts for a second, quiet but charged, but then a shy smile as she nudges the second mug toward me. “Coffee for now?”
“For now.” I take it, fingers brushing hers briefly. I lift the mug to my mouth, pausing halfway, my eyes darting to hers. “You okay going into the office today? After Friday?”
“I’m good.” She sets her cup in the sink, then turns back to me. “Thank you for asking.” She takes a tentative step closer, presses a quick kiss to my cheek, like she’s unsure if she should, and then strides over to grab her bag from the chair, slipping the strap over her shoulder.
“You want me to drop you off?” I turn and set the coffee down. “I’m heading out in just a minute anyway.”
“I really am good.” She smiles. “I’m officially a public transit person now.”
“Oh right, I forget you’re an original city girl.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s three stops.”
“I’m happy to help you avoid the dangers of the L.”
“I think my office is more dangerous than the L.”
“I can come take care of that kid if you want.” It’s a joke, and she knows it.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass.” She laughs, real and easy, and the leftover confusion from last night finally cracks. At the door she pauses, adjusting the strap. “Have a good day at the studio.”
“Thanks.” I pick up the mug and raise it in a cheers motion. “Have a good day.”
She hesitates like she might say something else, then just smiles and heads out. The apartment feels different when she’s gone. Less alive. And I realize I don’t like it.
The studio is louder than usual. Luc’s energy fills the room before I even sit down. Dean’s arguing with the producer about guitar tone. Cables snake across the floor. Empty beer bottles and old coffee cups litter every surface. It’s the normal chaos of the studio, but it’s making my skin bristle today.
I slide behind the kit, rolling my shoulders loose. The first take starts clean. The rhythm settles fast, muscle memory carrying me through. Halfway through, something slips. It’s not my timing. It’s my focus. My mind drifts to Quinn laughing at something Sadie said yesterday, her hand brushing mine without thinking. I blow out a breath and roll my shoulders as the track ends to get my head in the game.
“Again.” The producer’s voice crackles through the monitors. I nod, tapping a stick against my knee. Second take goes better. By the third time, I’m finally locked in and feel like I got it right.
By lunch everyone’s sprawled across the couches, food containers open, conversation drifting toward the usual. Luc talks wedding logistics. Dean wants to know when he can plan the bachelor party.
I sit back, listening more than talking. Hayden’s across from me, calm as ever, picking at his food with slow precision. Dean points a fry toward him. “You ever gonna bring someone around or what?”
Hayden glances up, expression neutral. “Bring who around?”
“A woman.” Dean laughs. “You’re like a myth. Nobody’s ever seen you with anyone.”
Luc grins. “Seriously. You secretly gay and afraid to tell us? Cause, you know we’re gonna love you no matter who you like to screw.”
Hayden sets his fork down carefully, eyes moving between us. A quiet pause stretches. “Who I may or may not be fucking isn’t any of your business.”
The room stills for a beat. Dean laughs first, shaking his head. “That sounds way more mysterious than it should.”
