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I ran my hand over the back of my neck, embarrassed. “Yeah, once I’m out like that, it’s best to just leave me be. Nothing short of a natural disaster will get me to open my eyes.”
“Noted,” he said, his laughter filling my soul.
“I made pancakes. You want some?”
“That’s brilliant. I’m so hungry. And there’s coffee too?”
“Of course, there’s coffee. Do you even know me?”
“I’m beginning to.”
We set about plating our food, him pouring himself a cup of coffee while I refreshed my own, then we sat together at the kitchen table and ate in a strange tableau of domesticity. The cowboy and the rock star playing at happily ever after.
“Should we—” I started.
“We should probably—” he said at the same time.
We both sat back, waiting for the other one to say what they needed to say. I deferred to him, desperate to know what was on his mind.
“We should probably talk.”
“Yeah, I think we should.” My gut clenched.
We should talk was never a good way to start a conversation that was going to end happily.
“I can’t stay here forever, Killian.”
Suddenly, the pancakes tasted like ashes in my mouth. “I know that. I didn’t expect you to.” I didn’t know what I had expected. Certainly not this. This was a fairy tale. This wasn’t real life.
“How do you want to keep this going?” he asked.
“Well, we can see each other. It doesn’t all have to be angst-ridden hookups.”
He bit his lower lip and looked down at the table, his cheeks going adorably pink. “That wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about our writing partnership.”
Fuck. Here I was, practically picking out an engagement ring. I always took things too fast. “Yeah, I mean…sure, I know.” I hated stumbling over my words, but I was so fucking flustered. “I suppose we could have video calls and do writing sessions together that way. Or I can come to you, you could come back to me. We’ll make it work long distance.”
“No.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Because, of course, we could write long distance. We could send each other clips of what we’d put together, and then the other could expand upon it. It wasn’t impossible. People did it all the time.
“Yes, we can. We’ll write long distance.”
“What if you came with me and stayed with me at my house in LA for a while? It might be nice…since, you know, everything’s so new.”
“Are you asking me to move in with you?” I asked as slowly as I could to maintain some semblance of control over myself.
“Not permanently. No. That’s…that’s too fast. Bloody hell, I’m mucking this up. I just meant, I’m not ready for this to end, and since we’ve already been sharing a home, I thought maybe you’d like to keep doing that when my time is up here. I have to head back to LA in a week’s time and spend a month or so there before I can go back to London. There’s a photo spread I’m scheduled to do, as well as an interview, and it’s not one I can miss. So, I thought perhaps you would join me. Especially if we’re going to be going public.”
“Going public with us as a musical duo?” I asked hesitantly.
“If that’s what you want.”
I took a tight breath. I wanted to scream from the rooftops that he was mine, and I was his, but we hadn’t fully established that yet.
“I…Yeah, that’s what I want.”
I wasn’t going to push him into something public. Not yet. Not ever. I was out and had been since I was a teen. Ever since I figured out that my crush on Henry Cavill was a lot more than hero worship. But Jameson was complicated and private. He didn’t owe anyone his sexuality.
