Page 25 of Key Change

Then Anthony was alone in the kitchen… almost. The large ginger cat wiggled out of its fluffy cat igloo and strolled over to sit by its bowls.

It was all so domestic, so normal, and he wanted this to be his life.

But, at the same time, his heart was racing, and anxiety churned in his gut, because he didn’t know how he’d stumbled into it, and it could all be taken away with one wrong step.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

“Are you coming on Saturday?”Bevan asked as he stabbed a piece of chicken. It was a late lunch, but the only chance they had to catch up before Bevan’s exhibition and performance. It was part-art and part-live music, and he’d been putting it together for a while because he wanted to do something different from playing in small venues. He should be getting record deals, but then Cillian might be a little biased where his friends were concerned.

“Of course I am.” Cillian always attended when he got free tickets, especially when it involved his friends.

“And are you bringing a plus-one?” Bevan gave him a pointed look.

Quite often, he took Bevan as his plus-one. They were friends, and they had similar tastes, which made it easy. He couldn’t do that this time, given that Bevan was the one performing.

“I haven’t decided.” Which was the truth. He scooped up some rice and beef, so he didn’t have to form a full answer. He should bring Anthony. It would be an opportunity to see him again, though they had been messaging over the last several days.

“Does that mean you’ve got no one to ask except me? Or that you’re seeing someone, and you aren’t sure about it?”

Bevan could read him far too well after all these years knowing each other. “All of the above.”

He had other friends he could ask, but they liked to pretend that they preferred opera and other elevated pursuits. They wouldn’t admit that they enjoyed a beer before a show in a theater that only sat fifty people. That they might laugh too loud or be seen having too much fun.

If he had free tickets to the opera or the ballet, then they were the ones he’d invite. They’d sit there perfectly composed with their polite smiles on, judging everyone around them and being judged in return.

“So who is he? Do I know him? Have I fucked him?”

Cillian laughed. “Probably not.”

“Have you fucked him?”

“Yes.”

“Your place or his?”

“Mine.”

“So it’s serious. How did Snap take being kicked out of bed?”

Cillian rolled his eyes. Just because he had someone in his apartment, didn’t mean it was serious… only unusual. And in this case, more convenient. “I don’t know what it is. Complicated.”

“Do tell.”

He scooped another mouthful of beef that didn’t require nearly as much chewing as he gave it. How much did he say? He was hesitant, but he wanted to talk about Anthony, to be told that he wasn’t making a massive fucking mistake. It didn’t feel like a mistake, and he remembered what they felt like.

Bevan frowned. “How complicated is it? Is he married to a woman? Is he married to a man and bringing you in as the third?”

“Nothing like that.” It wasn’t his place to discuss Anthony’s past, but then he didn’t want his friends to meet him, to ask, and then be stunned into questioning silence.

“And yet you still can’t say… Is he an international spy?”

“That might be easier to explain.” He set down his fork. “No judging me until I finished talking.”

Bevan’s eyes widened. “You’ve got a sugar daddy, so you never need to work again.”

“I fucking wish.”

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