1
QUINN
Saturday night means a trip to The Library, the local kink club that I and all my housemates are members of. That’s the theory anyway, but more often than not, I either end up having to turn up late or not at all. Still, as I enter the kitchen to join my housemates and my stepbrother, Rubin, I’m optimistic that I’ll be able to share a taxi with everyone else. Everyone looks amazing and kink-club ready.
Hendrix, the youngest housemate, is sitting on the breakfast bar, eating an apple. “Hey, Rubin, have you booked a session with Stefan yet?”
Rubin laughs. “Nope.”
“Huh. You said you were going to ages ago.” Hendrix drawsagesout to four times its normal length. “Did you decide not to because Quinn fancies Stefan?”
At twenty-nine, Stefan is one of the oldest housemates. He’s also a pro-Dom at The Library. He’s probably already there, setting up his dungeon for a night of humiliating paying submissives. I’m not into being humiliated, but I am curious about what Stefan does in his dungeon. I wouldn’t ever book a session with him, though. It would be too weird, and I’m also sure his dungeon will be dark. Darkness makes it too easy for me to fall asleep.
“Maybe.” Rubin winks at me.
My legs give way. I grab hold of the edge of the table and, with a bit of help from Theo, manage to manoeuvre myself into a chair. I have narcolepsy with cataplexy. I can’t regulate my wake-sleep cycles as most people can. Instead, I struggle to sleep at night and have sleep attacks during the day. On top of that, if I experience strong emotions, I suffer a loss of muscle tone. It’s like bits of my body fall asleep while the rest of me is awake. I often describe it as my legs turning to jelly, but it can affect other parts of my body and my speech too.
I think the emotion that has triggered the cataplexy this time is relief. I’m glad Rubin has decided against booking a kink session with Stefan. Even the thought of it made me more jealous than I had any right to be.
Hendrix turns to me. “I see you’re not denying that you fancy him.”
I shrug.
Hendrix has had a theory that Stefan is into me since the day I moved in. Maybe he is, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it. I like him, but I’m hesitant to put my heart on the line without knowing he’s at least a little bit interested in me first.
Preston glares at Hendrix. “Lay off.”
When Stefan isn’t around, Preston tends to step in to keep Hendrix in line. Hendrix has a habit of speaking without thinking. At least, that’s how it seems. He has zero filter, which is one of the things I like about him. I’d never have the confidence to speak my mind in the way Hendrix does. On the other hand, it’s also fun teasing Hendrix through silence. He’s desperate to know what my kinks are, which is precisely why I’ve not told him or anyone else in the house.
Preston and Theo are dating. They make an adorable couple. They’re not the only in-house pairing. Beau, Stefan’s twin brother, and Fraser, a lollipop-sucking femme guy with amazing dress sense, are engaged.
Our final housemate is Rory. He makes it to The Library even less often than I do because he works at a bar most Saturday nights.
“Stefan takes his submissives back to the bar when he’s done with them,” Hendrix says, clearly ignoring Preston’s instruction. “You should sit there so he can see you. He’d find you irresistible dressed like that.”
My cheeks heat. My head nods, and my chin hits my chest. It would be amazing if Stefan did find me irresistible, but we’ve been living together for a few months now, and he hasn’t shown any signs of fancying me. If it weren’t for Hendrix constantly going on about it, I wouldn’t even be imagining the possibility. Maybe he sees something I don’t.
“How do you know what Stefan does with his subs after a session?” Rubin asks Hendrix.
“I pay attention. It’s not my fault the rest of you are all unobservant. You should prop the bar up tonight, Quinn.”
I’m starting to realise that I’ll be the one needing to be propped up tonight. My optimism about making it out is fading fast as tiredness starts to dig its claws into me. My eyelids drift open and closed. I fight against it, frustrated that a night of fun is going to elude me.
Rubin sits beside me. “Need a hand getting upstairs?”
“Please.”
Often, I get enough warning of a sleep attack to be able to find somewhere to lie down, but when it’s combined with a couple of cataplexy attacks in quick succession, my ability to get anywhere is severely hampered. Rubin was part of my life when I first developed symptoms, so we’ve learnt what help I need and when. I’m twenty-four. Sometimes I forget that only eight years ago, my brain was regulating my sleep just fine.
I put my arm around Rubin’s shoulders and lean on him as he helps me stand.
“If I see Stefan, I’ll tell him how amazing you look,” Hendrix says.
I reply with a weak smile. It’s all I have the energy for. If I try to speak, I’m sure I’ll sound like I’m drunk. It’s ironic, considering I don’t drink alcohol.
“You’re like a broken record,” Beau says. “Change the track.”
“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Hendrix objects. “Stefan likes Quinn. Quinn likes Stefan. They should get on with it and fuck.”
