“I’m sure the publishing house understands.”
“I hope so. It just sucks, you know? I want to be able to stick to deadlines and be reliable, but it’s not always possible.” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologise for letting me know how you’re feeling.”
“I’ll try not to.” He rests his chin on my chest and looks up at me. “What about you? How are you feeling?”
I brush his hair behind his ear. “Right now? Content. Satisfied. Happy.”
Quinn smiles. “Me too.” His brow creases. “But…” He shakes his head.
“Tell me.”
“What if you get bored of working around my limitations? Or get fed up with having to schedule sex and scenes.”
“I would always pre-plan a scene, so there’s no difference there. As for everything else, I’ll learn when you’re likely to be most awake and receptive to sex or being taken on dates.” I tap his nose. “Speaking of which, can I take you on another date?”
Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Today?”
“No. I figured we’d have a lazy afternoon.”
“Sounds good.”
“Wednesday? That gives you time to focus on work before I distract you for a few hours.”
“Wednesday would be amazing.”
I pinch his chin softly between my thumb and forefinger. “I can’t see myself getting bored of you, Quinn. Yourlimitations, as you put it, are things we can work around.”
He smiles. “Tell me if it gets too much. I’d rather know than have the rug pulled out from under my feet if you decide—”
I press my finger to his lips. “Don’t finish that thought.”
He nods.
I move my finger away. “There is something we need to do.”
“What?”
“Finish your alliterative pain scale.”
His head lolls to the side as he laughs.
“What did you have? Trivial two, sexy seven, excellent eight, and terrible ten.”
“Sounds about right.” He sounds drunk again, but I know he’s not.
I tap his shoulder as I try to think of alliterative words that would work with the remaining numbers. “Trifling three?”
Quinn gives me a thumbs up.
“Fine four?”
He laughs harder.
“Flashy five?”
He wrinkles his nose.
