Page 46 of Key Change

Cillian grunted as he grabbed the milk. “Most of the time I am, but not when I’m doing a run of performances.”

“I thought you could do it in your sleep?”

“Oh, the music I can, but there are rehearsals and then there’s the performance, and it’s always late by the time it ends and even later by the time I get home. Once I’m back, it takes me an hour or so to wind down when I get to bed. By the time therun ends, I’ll be into the routine of going to bed late and getting up late.”

“Just in time to go back to normal.”

“Exactly.” He didn’t know how shift workers dealt with the changing of shifts. “Growing up on the farm, I got used to getting up at sunrise, so I find early starts much easier to deal with.” He took a couple of swallows of coffee, having added plenty of milk to bring it down to sculling temperature. “Enough about my first world problems…” He put the back of his hand on his forehead and fake-wilted against the fridge. “And the hard life of being an in-demand pianist. How has your week been?”

The coffee machine finished making Anthony’s, and he didn’t wait for an invitation to pick it up. “Uneventful.”

Cillian stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

From the way Anthony stared at the coffee instead of meeting his gaze, there had been something eventful, and he didn’t want to discuss it. Which was fine. It wasn’t as though Anthony owed him an explanation. They weren’t dating. He didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. It wasn’t as impersonal as hooking up—for a start, they’d gone out twice.

Oh my God, they were dating.

How the fuck had that happened?

Anthony glanced up as though Cillian had spoken aloud. “Margot let me be her plus one, so I heard you play the other night.”

Cillian snorted. “The night before last? There was a little fuckup with one of the cellists.”

“I didn’t notice. I’m not sure anyone did.”

“We all did,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows.

“That’s because it’s your job.”

Fair.Cillian took a drink of his now too cold coffee.

“While I was there, someone from my past handed me his card, offering me a job.”

That should be a good thing… but the way Anthony said it suggested it was anything but. Then Cillian got it. If the man was from his past, the job might involve finance or drugs, both of which were bad. “You haven’t called him.”

Cillian hoped Anthony hadn’t. Not that it was his place to say anything. That didn’t stop him from holding his breath and hoping that he hadn’t misjudged the man before him. He was enjoying their time together too much to not miss it if he walked away.

Anthony took a sip and winced. “I forgot you drink rocket fuel.”

Cillian grinned. “I’ll buy you some low strength coffee. Though there’s no point in drinking it.”

“It should be about the flavor, not the punch to the face.”

“I like both.” Cillian shrugged and finished his, setting it beneath the machine, ready to make another. This time, he’d have some toast with it.

“I called him. He wanted me to work as aresearcher, looking for good deals.”

“That’s seems very close?—”

Anthony nodded. “I told him no. I know how it’ll go from ‘find me the deals’ to ‘do them for me.’ The money would have been so good.” He slumped against the counter.

Cillian didn’t miss the wistful tone in Anthony’s voice. The temptation to take the job must have been strong. “Why do you think he’d move the goalposts?”

He grimaced. “He was a friend of Rafe’s.”

“The one still in prison with most of the drug charges?” Cillian had made it his business to look up more about the case, and Anthony’s friends. So he understood what he was getting into, which is exactly what one did when casually hooking up. Not. “Did he expect you to pick up where Rafe left off?”

“Possibly?” Anthony pressed his lips together. “I called him because I wanted to be sure that it didn’t feel right, and the more he talked, the more I realized I was going to end up where I don’t want to be.”

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