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That smile was pure, unadulterated smug.

I still didn’t want to move. I was warm, and my dick was getting ideas.

“Can I come?” Quinn’s tone was light.

“If you’re asking for a morning fuck…” I froze. Wait a moment… “That isn’t what you’re asking, is it?”

He bit his lip. “Now I’m torn. Morning sex sounds amazing, but…” He sighed. “I was asking if I could come to the rehearsal.”

What?

I peered at him. “You want to?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, then snuggled closer, his cheek brushing my skin. “I want to see that part of you.” There was no trace of teasing in his voice.

“You do understand that rehearsal is not a performance,” I said.

He nodded. “I know. I want the unpolished version.”

I didn’t know how to react to that.

“They’ll ask questions,” I warned.

“So?”

“So… I’ll answer them.”

He smiled against my chest. “Good. That means I can come, then?”

“I haven’t made my mind up yet.”

Quinn stroked my chest. “I liked being in your bed.”

“Better than the floor?”

That grin reached his eyes. “Oh yeah. The bed had certain… perks.”

My heartbeat raced. “I liked you being here too.”

Quinn looked me in the eye. “Just so you know, I don’t need every morning to look like this.” He paused. “But I do want some of them to.”

It didn’t feel like pressure or a demand, but simply him stating a preference. And that more than anything helped me decide.

I brushed my hand through his hair. “You can come to rehearsal.”

His smile lit up his face. “Thank you.” He stretched. “We should probably get up,” he said with a sigh.

Neither of us moved.

His hand was warm on my chest. “Can you at least tell me who I’ll be meeting tonight? You know, forewarned is forearmed.”

“I’ll tell you over tea and toast.”

I was already thinking about how Quinn would look, sitting in the back of the rehearsal room, watching. Then I smiled.