Page 23 of Key Change

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized they were piano grades.

“And it’s by referral only. I have a few friends who teach lower grades, so when their students need a high-level teacher, they send them to me.” He stood and stretched, his pajama pants sliding low on his hips. “I need a coffee. You? Or do you need to rush off?”

“Coffee would be great.” And this was all far too normal. It was as if they’d done it a dozen times before. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can make it.”

“It’s fine. I’ve learned most of the songs, but because practice time with everyone together is going to be limited, I want to act like I know what I’m doing.” He threw Anthony a wink and a grin as he moved into the kitchen.

From his grin, Anthony was sure that Cillian knew exactly what he was doing. “Do you often play movie soundtracks?”

“No, this will be a first. Plus, it pays nicely, and I’ll be able to add it to my résumé. If I do get it, it’ll be a hectic couple of weeks, and I’ll have to reschedule my students.” He pulled out cups and turned on the coffee pod machine as he talked.

“So you don’t have a set sort of job? You just do a collection of random ones?”

Cillian leaned one hip against the kitchen counter. “The life of a musician. I play weddings and funerals, corporate events… I like them because they are good money and often lead to offers from other businesses or their owners. Christmas is always super busy. Then there are the other performances, like playing with the ballet or orchestra.”

“Or a rock band.”

Cillian grinned. “That wasn’t something I had planned on, but my agent knew someone who knew someone, and that’s how it works. I also travel overseas to perform by invitation, either corporate or for a production, or to play in a competition. Winning is excellent money.”

“I didn’t even realize you had an agent.”

“You thought I booked my own gigs?” Cillian shook his head. “At the start, yeah, but I won a major competition earlier on, which landed me my agent, and the rest, as they say, is history.” He handed Anthony a filled mug. “Milk, sugar?”

Anthony stared at the mug in his hand. He’d gotten into the habit of drinking it black. The scent teased his senses. Real coffee was so much better than instant. It wasn’t something he’d take for granted again.

Cillian opened the fridge door. “I only have almond milk… I know, I know. How crazy is it that I grew up on a cattle farm but can’t do dairy?” He poured quite a lot into his coffee, then placed the carton on the counter in front of Anthony. “Are you one of those proper milk only people?”

“No. I’ve been drinking black instant coffee for the last ten years.”

“Even at your sister’s?”

“No, I used her coffee machine, but I didn’t think about adding sugar.” He grimaced at his foolishness, reaching for the almond milk and adding a splash. There was no reason for him to hold on to the habits he’d made for the last ten years. And if he decided that he preferred black coffee now, there was no harm done.

Cillian watched him. “I hadn’t considered how habits change and differed to before.”

“Neither had I. The first year I was very aware of everything that wasn’t as I liked it, or what I did. I was also angry. But then… I don’t want to say I got used to it… adapted maybe… and now that I’m out, I need to adapt again.”

“You aren’t the same person you were ten years ago, and those habits are no longer habits.”

“Yeah.” Anthony took a sip expecting a mild coffee, instead it punched him in the face. “What is this?”

“It’s what they call an eleven out of ten.” He picked up the pod box. “I keep artist hours, so I need a strong coffee in the morning. Some days, I go to the gym first and then have another one before I actually start my day.”

“But you were just practicing…”

“I didn’t want to wake you up.” He put his hand over his heart. “So I suffered.”

“I’m used to being woken up.”

“I didn’t want to be an asshole, and I didn’t want you thinking I was kicking you out.” He ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair, making it stand on end. “Do you want to have a shower?”

No, Cillian didn’t want to kick him out, but he’d made it clear he had a busy day ahead of him. “What time do you need to be out by?”

“In about forty minutes, if you want me to drop you at home. I was going to wake you when I finished that song.”

“You don’t need to.” It rubbed that he was dependent on other people’s kindness.

“It’s not a problem. I’m heading in that direction, anyway.”