Quinn shakes his head. “No. It’s a good place to end. It’s a reminder that although men before us had to hide who they loved, we don’t need to. We don’t have to pretend to be just friends. We’re free to love who we want. We can live together as a couple, get married if we want.”
“Do you want to?”
Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t mean… I was just…”
I laugh and cup his cheek. “I know. Don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking. If I were, I’d be on the ground.” He narrows his eyes. “Also, I see what you did there.”
“What did I do?”
“Don’t panic. Isn’t that what theHitchhiker’s Guidesays on the cover in the book?”
“Yes. I think it’s a good mantra to live by.”
“It is.” Quinn rests against my chest. “This has been an amazing tour, but I’m crazy tired now.”
“Can you make it back to the park?”
“I think so.”
“You can take a nap there.”
“Will you be my pillow?”
I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Yes. I will be your pillow whenever you need me to be.”
17
QUINN
A week and a half have passed in a blur of illustrating, sleeping, and spending time with Stefan. It’s Sunday, and we’re late arriving at an Italian restaurant to celebrate Sabella’s birthday because I had to sleep just as we were getting ready to leave. My family are used to having to be flexible when I’m invited to things.
To get there, we have to get the tube to St Pancras, the overland train to St Albans, and then a taxi to the restaurant. Not exactly a quick trip.
When we arrive, Dad, Sabella, and Rubin are eating. There are balloons attached to the chairs, confetti on the table, and a couple of presents and cards. I add the ones I brought to the pile.
Dad stands. “We ordered starters while we were waiting. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shake my head. “Of course not.” I don’t tend to eat a full three-course meal anyway. As Stefan discovered on the train, too much food can make me sleepy. “This is Stefan.” I gesture to him. “My boyfriend.”
Stefan looks amazing tonight. He’s wearing one of his fanciest waistcoats, a silk shirt with the top button undone, and pressed trousers with polished shoes. All in black, of course. I chose a more casual outfit—chinos and a shirt, which I’ve covered with a roll-neck jumper to hide the fresh and fading love bites on my neck. I’m happy for my kink-positive housemates to see the marks Stefan leaves on my skin, but I draw the line at trying to explain any of it to Dad and Sabella.
He shakes Dad’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Dad arches an eyebrow. “We’ve already met—albeit briefly—when I helped Quinn move in.” He releases Stefan’s hand. “By the way, I only get called sir at work. Call me Bryan.”
“You’re housemates?” Sabella asks as she stands and takes a turn to shake Stefan’s hand. “I suppose that’s one way of meeting the love of your life.”
She’s a jolly woman with shoulder-length hair, which she wears in corn rows. She brought light back to Dad’s eyes, and I’ll always love her for it. Like Rubin, her brown skin has warm undertones, giving her a rich complexion.
“I—” I shut my mouth because I’m not sure how to respond to her statement.
“I’m so glad you could make it.” She pats my cheek. “We don’t see nearly enough of you since you moved out. Anyone would think you lived one hundred miles away rather than twenty.” She sits and motions for me and Stefan to do the same. “We haven’t ordered our main courses yet. We can look at the menu together.”
Rubin hands us a menu to share.
“Has Quinn told you how we met?” Sabella gestures between her and Dad.
