How did peoplehandlelove?
At my age I probably shouldhave had some experience with the concept, shouldn’t I? But there’d never beena chance. Before now, I’d never gotten this close to someone.
I loved Gray, and I lovedLogan, and Lucas, and Doc. Miles was growing on me. I would have taken a bulletfor any of them.
But this was different. Itfeltbigger. Difficult to contain, like I might burst if I tried to holdit in too long.
My life had changed. I couldfeel all my priorities rearranging themselves in my head without consciousthought.
Christ. How did peopledothis?
“Fox?” Quinn asked.
I’d gone quiet too long.
“Sorry.” I wanted to tellhim. But this wasn’t the sort of thing you just blurted out, was it?
No. No, I’d have to pickmy moment. Say it when it’d be romantic. When it’dmeansomething.
When Quinn was ready to hearit.
If he’d ever be readyto hear it from the likes of me.
“Just, umm. Thinking,” Isaid, grabbing the jug again to rinse the suds out of Quinn’s hair.
He made the sweetest,happiest little sound as I poured warm water over his head. My heart flippedover like a Russian gymnast.Iwas making him happy.
Me.
Good-for-nothing RupertFaulks who had to join the army to get his act together and was still coming upshort.
“Good thoughts?” Quinnasked.
“Good thoughts,” I confirmedwith a nod. “Thinking about how much happier you seem right now than you didwhen we met.”
That wasn’t even a lie,and suddenly we were back on solid ground. The world had shifted beneath me,but it wasn’t a disaster. It was like everything snapping into focus.
Giddy joy welled up in mychest.
If I had to go and fall inlove withsomeone, Quinn seemed like a good choice. Sweet. Clever. Cuddly.
All the things I looked forin a partner. Snuggling on the couch and giggling between ourselves was more orless how I pictured the perfect relationship.
“I am happier,” he said. “Gladto have this album behind me. Well, almost behind me. Just have to sign off onit now, not that anyone cares.”
“They should care.” I putthe jug down, deciding Quinn’s hair was as rinsed as it was ever going to be. “It’syour work.”
“Not under my contract.”Quinn closed his eyes, leaning back in the tub and giving me a wonderful excuseto look at him. The water had cleared as the salts settled and I had a prettygood view from where I was. He had one knee raised, just barely sticking out ofthe water, and I couldn’t help picturing him spread out on the bed, waiting forme to make his dreams come true all over again.
This wasn’tjustabout sex, butthe sex was incredibly good. Quinn’s enthusiasm made it good.
“Forgive me for offering anopinion where I know absolutely nothing about how things work,” I began,grabbing a washcloth and running it over Quinn’s shoulder—more to touch himthan clean him up. “But your contract sounds like bollocks, so far. You ownyour work.”
Quinn shook his head. “Not right now, Idon’t. I… actually have no idea how it compares to other people, but… it’s whatI’ve got. It’s the path to success.”
“Is it?” I asked. Thequestion had been weighing on my mind on and off since I met Quinn.
WasQuinn on trackto succeed? And if he was, was it the kind of success hewanted?
