Page 11 of Masters of Control

What Are Friends For?

Q

He was in the middle of working through some of the code behind Glorg the Destroyer’s dialogue when his phone buzzed. Glancing down at the screen, it was his friend, Angel. Crap. He’d meant to text her last night when he got out of the class to let her know how it went. She was the reason he’d ended up at Stronghold in the first place. They’d been friends for a long time and after she’d met her Dom and now husband, Adam, Q had finally gotten up the courage to ask her about the club.

She’d been thrilled to get him in touch with Patrick, the owner of Stronghold and one of the three owners of Marquis, and get him started on his membership. She was also a relentless busybody and likely brimming with impatience to hear about his first class as a sub.

Opening the message, he wished he could have placed a bet on that. He was one hundred percent right.

Angel: I have been waiting patiently ALL NIGHT AND ALL MORNING and I get nothing from you! Nothing! Proof of life, NOW!

Q chuckled, shaking his head.

Q: Some of us have real jobs, Angel.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

Angel: Which is why you should have texted me last night. Suck it up, buttercup. And don’t blame me just because you weren’t smart enough to get a job with a flexible schedule.

Q: I’ll show you flexible.

Angel: And I’ll show Adam my texts if you don’t start spilling deets! I’m home alone with a toddler, Q. I need to live vicariously through someone. Take pity on me.

Q: Send the toll.

He wasn’t actually worried about her showing Adam their texts. It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. First of all, Adam wouldn’t care. Adam was used to Angel’s banter, especially with her close friends. He was completely secure in his relationship with Angel and knew there was nothing between her and Q—even though at one time, Q had wished there would be. Second of all, she was probably going to tell Adam about this entire exchange later, anyway. He wouldn’t be surprised if she read the texts aloud to him, mocking Q the entire time.

This time when the text message sounded, Q grinned before he opened it, knowing what he would see.

Baby Melody, Angel and Adam’s daughter, grinning at the camera. She was the cutest little thing, happy to be standing and climbing on things, though she didn’t appear particularly interested in walking just yet. She was content being carried around—and no wonder when there was never any shortage of volunteers.

Q was usually at the head of the line.

Q: Damn she gets cuter every day.

Angel: Toll paid, now spill!

Laughing, Q glanced at the clock. It was close enough to lunch time and would be easier to talk on the phone than texting for this conversation. Saving his work, he pushed his chair away from his desk and got up to close his door. Not that many people walked in unannounced, but still. He wanted the warning knock that someone was there.

Picking his phone up, he dialed Angel’s contact and wasn’t the least bit surprised when she picked up before the first ring was barely over.

“Tell me everything!”

“Do you have a point where you wanted me to start at?” he asked dryly, laughing.

“Yes, skip over everyone else and tell me about Sam. Was it weird? Did you two talk at all? Did you find out what happened? Do you think it’s going to be awkward?”

Shaking his head, Q sat and leaned back in his chair as he told Angel about the evening. He didn’t bother going into all the others in the class. She would probably be interested later, but right now, she was focused on him and Sam. He’d learned telling Angel everything she wanted to know usually led to some pretty good insights.

It didn’t take long for him to work his way through the entire evening, including talking with Sam at the bar.

“Oooh, poor thing. It sounds like she was embarrassed,” Angel said sympathetically.

“Yeah, she seems okay now, though.”

“Does she?” Angel sounded a little dubious. “She’s pretty standoffish. Not that it’s always a bad thing. Some people just don’t like others getting too close, but she struck me as someone who wants to make friends but doesn’t really know how to.”

“Is that why you helped her Post-it note my car?” Q asked dryly.