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Key of Kink

Page 199

by K.C. Wells

The grin that spread across Quinn’s face was impossible to resist.

“Excellent. I’m putting that on my CV.”

“Please don’t.”

“I make no promises.”

I laughed, and then Quinn shifted again, settling more comfortably against me, his arm draped across my stomach. The gesture felt instinctive, unguarded.

I’m not analysing the moment.

Instead, I wrapped my arm around him and held him closer. Quinn hummed softly, clearly pleased with the arrangement. After a minute he spoke again, his voice drowsy now.

“You know what I like about us?”

“What’s that?”

“We keep surprising each other.”

Lying there with Quinn curled against my side, I found myself thinking that some surprises were worth every rule I’d ever broken.

I didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was either too late or too early.

Quinn was asleep, his breathing slow and even, his hand on my chest.

I lay there for a long time staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to settle, the evening replaying itself in a loop.

Quinn murmured in his sleep, and I turned my head to look at him in the dim light. Even asleep he looked peaceful. I smiled to myself.

You walked into Obsidian and nothing about you fit neatly into my compartments.

And now he was in my life, I didn’t want him to leave.

Quinn stirred beside me. “Max?”

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered.

“Mmm.” He rolled over and within seconds his breathing changed.

I lay there for another few minutes before easing myself out of the bed. I closed the door quietly behind me and crept into the kitchen, the floor cold under my bare feet.

The clock on the kitchen wall read 2:14 a.m.

I went into the living room and switched on the small lamp beside the piano.

For a moment I stood there, staring at the instrument. Music had always been the easiest way for me to understand things I couldn’t say out loud. Then I recalled the notes I’d made at Quinn’s house. I went over to where my jacket hung and searched through the pockets. When I found the folded piece of paper, I went back to the piano bench and sat.

I played the melody quietly, one ear towards the bedroom, listening for any sign that I’d disturbed Quinn’s sleep.

Silence.

As the harmony unfolded, the first words made an appearance, and I grabbed the notepad I kept on top of the piano. I scribbled them down, not wanting to lose those precious first lines.

You walked in reading all the rules

Like they were promises, not chains…

I had to smile. Well, that’s accurate.