Page 14 of Call Don't Fall

“Mine too,” I agreed. “I think he’s sleeping enough for both of us. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep at all tonight.”

“I’ll stay up with you. Not like I gotta work in the morning,” Kirk said, hugging me close again. “You know what I do and what I did before. What about you?”

I blushed. I didn’t stumble into many occasions to explain my job beyond ‘artist.’ I liked it like that too. Privacy went a long way in saving me headaches.

“We don’t have to talk about it. Hell, maybe work stresses you out. Didn’t mean to make tonight harder on you, mate.”

“It’s an unusual job,” I said.

“I work in medicine. I’ve seen and heard it all.”

“I’m an artist. A not safe for work artist. Mostly commissions. Sell some prints too,” I blurted it all out before I lost my nerve.

“Should’ve known with all the tats,” Kirk nodded.

His scent didn’t change. He wasn’t ready to run for the hills yet.

“And I’m not gonna change jobs if we have a pup,” I added, testing the waters to see how much of an uphill battle I had before me.

“Who said you had to?” Kirk asked. “If you like it and it pays the bills, I say do it. Nudity or erotic or whatever. We’re both grownups. It’s not like our pup’s gonna peek out your belly button and see what’s going on. That’s not how it works. When the kids are older there is always daycare and me and other options too and then school eventually. I take it someone’s said something you didn’t like about your job.”

“Plenty of people have. From get a ‘real job’ to ‘stop being a perv.’ They love to ask if my parents know – they do. They love to ask if my mate knows. Well, you do now. Sorry, I couldn’t tell you when I started. I didn’t want to send letters out to all the single alphas in the universe just to make sure you got the letter.”

“Are you trying to be like the Starscales?”

“Huh?” I blinked.

“Oh, that guy who sent out all those letters to get that one dragon to their world,” Kirk shrugged.

“Eh, I’m lazy. Well, not really, but compared to that guy I am. I’m not sending letters to everyone. I get enough hand cramps from drawing. I don’t need to add mass letter writing to the list of what I do.”

“I’m here now. No need for any of that,” Kirk yawned.

I glanced at my phone that sat over on the bedside table. Grina and Treg had both sent me a handful of texts each and the time read just after ten.

“Do you get up early, usually?” I asked.

“Yeah. About 5.”

“So it’s your bedtime.”

“I said I’d stay up with you. Let me guess you’re a night owl, right? Most artists are.”

“A bit. Sometimes. My sleep schedule follows my commissions and inspiration. I know, I know. Sleep at night or at least the same time every day. Everyone keeps telling me but it just doesn’t work out for me. Probably not great for my blood sugar but life’s meant to be lived, right?”

“I think you have to answer that one for yourself. It’s meant to be lived, but the meaning of that is up to each of us,” Kirk yawned again.

“Do you want to try to get some sleep?” I asked him.

“Stop smelling so guilty,” he frowned at me. “Maybe this is my ‘life is meant to be lived.’ If you feel bad every time I stay up late with you, you’re probably going to feel like that a lot.”

I opened my mouth wanting to say that I’d work on getting on his sleep schedule, but I knew that most likely wouldn’t work out.

“I could switch to night shifts if that’s the only way we can lineup,” he said.

“How are you reading my mind?”

“I’m not. I’m thinking about our future too. I worked a lot of late nights when I was an intern. I could do it again.”

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