Page 29 of Key Change

He opened the email and skimmed the text. The composer loved him and wanted him on board. Attached was the contract for him to review. As Cillian read it over, he had no doubt that his agent had pre-negotiated some of the contract before he’d even met the composer, and the meeting had been to find out if he was a prima donna to work with.

Unless he’d been invited to contribute, he shut up and played.

He replied, thanking Dahlia and that he’d check it over the weekend.

Still nothing from Anthony.

Well, he might as well finish his coffee and buy some groceries and do some meal prep before going to the gym and getting in a practice session.

He was almost home, lugging four bags of food, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He forced himself to wait until he’d made it inside and put the meat in the fridge before checking.

Would love to. Jeans ok? Give me the address and I’ll meet you there?

Cillian stared at the screen. Anthony didn’t want to be picked up. Because he didn’t want to be driven around? Or for some other reason? He needed to stop overthinking the situation. It made sense that they met at the venue. Plus Cillian wasn’t planning on driving when it was in walking distance, and he planned on having a few beers and enjoying his only Saturday night off for a couple of weeks.

Perfect. I’ll meet you in the bar out the front at 8.

He attached a map showing the location. They’d have time to socialize before the show kicked off.

Anthony sent back a smiley face.

Everything seemed fine, and he wasn’t about to ask why Anthony hadn’t suggested anything during the week via text when he hadn’t suggested anything either. That was a slide the question into conversation kind of thing.

With plans made, he returned to his list of chores, which now included hanging out the laundry as the machine had finished. He glanced at his ratty runners, grabbed the laundry basket, and heaved a weary sigh.

Oh… the glamor.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Anthony had seenthe text but, after days of no contact, had vowed that he wouldn’t respond immediately to Cillian’s messages. He didn’t want to seem desperate or needy, so he busied himself following his usual routine of going for a run and looking for work. He’d checked in with his parole officer and done the drug test to prove he wasn’t using. Where did they think he’d find the money for drugs? Did they think he’d steal Margot’s things, or sell his few remaining possessions?

It was humiliating, though that was probably the aim.

He submitted a job application, even though he was sure he wouldn’t get an interview. Thus far, he’d heard nothing back from any of the jobs he’d applied for. He told himself it was because it had only been three weeks and HR departments moved slowly.

Today’s mission was trawling through the local government job site. While he didn’t want to leave Sydney, realistically getting a job in the suburbs was more likely, and he’d be able to afford the rent there more easily, too.

He did not want to admit that moving out of the city would make it harder to see Cillian. While the fling was fun, Anthony was smart enough to know that men like Cillian, with talentand looks, didn’t end up with people like him. He had nothing to offer anyone. He needed to sort himself out before he even considered dating. Yet, with Cillian, he kept throwing that ideal to the wind.

There was a part of him that wanted to decline the invitation and let it die, but the bigger part of him wanted to live, if only for a few brilliant weeks, before he burned when the relationship caught on fire.

He was tired of gray walls, of merely existing and hoping not to be kicked again before he could get up. Cillian was a spark of hope, a glimmer of light that promised a life was possible. Thatthiswasn’t his forever. He was only thirty-six. He wasn’t even halfway…

In another decade, this would be miles behind him.

To put it behind him, he needed to move forward.

Forward meant Cillian.

So he accepted.

And Cillian responded straight away, which made him smile as Cillian must be busy. Cillian had a career and a life—which was another reason Anthony hadn’t asked to see him again. He didn’t want to make demands, but he shouldn’t need to feel so grateful for scraps.

He didn’t want to live with his sister, who was always checking in and asking what he was planning to do about his future, as though he spent every hour of every day on the sofa watching TV. He wouldn’t be doing it now if his options weren’t so limited. If the parole board hadn’t banned him from seeing Liam, he’d be sharing a flat with a friend.

The pang of pain that loss caused was something he was still growing used to. He wanted to pick up the phone and compare notes with Liam or ask him how he was doing. Seeing his friends wouldn’t cause him to re-offend. He pushed the frustration aside, knowing he needed to make new friends, and that Cillianwas a good start. However, there was a thread of disbelief about why Cillian wanted to spend any time with him—aside from lust.

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