“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
I shake my head. “You put me to shame. I hated PE when I was in school. Dad wanted us both to get into football, but neither of us was interested, much to his annoyance. Beau jogs sometimes.”
“There’s no shame in not being into sport. The world would be a really boring place if we all liked and did the same things. But I am curious about what hobbies you did have as a kid. Charles taught you to play chess, and your foster dad got you into reading avidly. You weren’t into sport, and apparently, you can’t draw—"
“I can’t.”
“So, what were you into?”
I lean forward so our lips are brushing. “Pretending to be a vampire.”
“Liar.”
I kiss him. “Maths.”
“That’s more believable.”
“And I was on the school debating team.”
“Your school had a debating team?”
“Yes.”
Quinn whistles. “Posh school.”
“We wore blazers and hats.”
“I bet you looked cute.”
“Very.”
“What colour was your uniform?”
“Maroon and grey. Why?”
Quinn sniggers. “I was just wondering when you started wearing black.”
“When I started working for Charles. Black was the uniform at his club. The rest of my style aesthetic came from him.”
“Oh, so he was the vampire that turned you?”
I laugh heartily. “Charles was not a vampire. Nor am I. I can go out in daylight.”
“True. You don’t sparkle either.”
I roll my eyes. “Vampires don’t sparkle.”
“Tell millions of fans that. Anyway, you look hot in vampire chic and in black, so I’m grateful to Charles for giving you such a sexy dress sense.” Quinn runs his finger through the red flash in my hair. “This suits you too.”
I pull him off his seat and onto my lap, where I hold and kiss him tenderly.
“Get a room,” Hendrix says as he walks in.
“We’re in a room,” I reply in a deadpan tone.
Hendrix sneers at me before padding across to the cupboard to make himself some breakfast.
