Page 62 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

“It’s like we’re twins.”

Kenny arched an eyebrow. “I quit at thirty-five. Hardest thing I’ve ever done. I kept this packet in a locked drawer as a sort of safety net. Knowing I could reach for them whenever I needed, made me not need them.”

“Does that work for all addictions?”

Kenny inhaled. “Sadly not.”

Aaron sipped on his whisky, eyes down and refusing to look at Kenny when he unpeeled his heart. “You saying that if I just had you to look at, like that, whenever I want, this deep craving for you wouldn’t go away?”

Kenny’s entire body seemed to rise from the table with his inhalation and he placed the cigarettes Aaron hadn’t taken beside him. “Actually, I think thatwouldwork for you. If I came too easy, your taste for me would dull.”

Kenny looked almost hurt by that admission, as if that was the reason he was keeping his distance. It was too much to bear. Because Kenny had no idea. Literally zero clue. So Aaron slammed back the whisky, following it up with a hiss and dropped his head back to the sofa.

“I don’t think you realise how bad I’ve got it for you, then.” He peered up at Kenny through hooded lashes, heart hammering with the anticipation of his reaction to what he was almost saying.

Kenny said nothing.

He didn’t believe him. Aaron didn’t blame him.

“I stopped doing Dr Riley’s homework,” Aaron said, shifting in his seat, eyes focusing on the reflections of the indented glass he twisted in his hands between his legs.

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”

“Not sure it was working.”

“Why not?”

“It was like I was making lists of all the shit that made me angry and it just made me angrier.”

“Like what?”

“Bunch of stupid shit. That no one listens to decent music anymore. I’m sick of the smell of Super Noodles. Hatelaughter. How everyone’s so oblivious to what’s really going on in the world. And how I’m a mug for thinking Taylor was the safe bet.” Aaron swallowed the unrest before he dared continue. “But, funnily enough, what makes me the angriest is how the only thing that mitigates all of that, that makes me feel even a smidgen normal and that there’s any shred of hope for me, is when I’m with you. But I’m not allowed to be.”

Kenny didn’t speak.

After a moment of all-consuming silence, Kenny threw back the rest of his whisky, then set the glass on the table with a sharp clink. He raked a hand through his hair, shaking it loose, as though trying to shed the weight of everything. Then the music clicked over, the soft crackle of vinyl filling the silence before the next record spun into life. A delicate piano filtered out, notes lilting and wistful, tinged with a yearning wrapping around the room like a warm embrace. Gentle harmonies of backing vocals—soft, achingooos—followed, and Aaron recognised the song immediately.

Paul Anka. Put Your Head on My Shoulder.

The music filled the space, tempering Aaron’s fears. But when Kenny stood and pushed the coffee table out of the way, scraping it over to the bay window, leaving the inviting fibres of the tufted rug stretching beside the fireplace, his heart stuttered.

Kenny extended his hand to him. “Dance with me.”

Aaron blinked, unsure, looking from Kenny’s outstretched hand to his face. But then, slowly, he set his empty glass downon the floor beside the sofa and slipped his hand into Kenny’s. When Kenny’s fingers closed around his, warm and firm, he dragged Aaron to his feet and the world outside the room dissolved.

Stepping closer, Kenny circled his arm around Aaron’s waist. Aaron hadn’t ever danced to a slow song with another man before, and it took an awkward moment to find a rhythm, but Aaron switched off his unease to stroke up Kenny’s neck, underneath his hair, and did as the song commanded. He rested his head on Kenny’s shoulder. And there, they swayed in synch to a song that might as well have been written for this moment.

The only difference was, Aaron hadalreadyfallen in love.

He knew he had. As brutally as he didn’t want to.

Kenny fisted the fabric of Aaron’s hoodie, as if he was desperate to keep him there, and Aaron closed his eyes, sinking into the moment. IntoKenny. It was so intimate; he didn’t know how to counter it. He never wanted to. And when Kenny’s fingers disappeared inside his top to ghost over his skin, Aaron couldn’t control how his heart leapt. Danced. Begged. Pleaded andbrokeall at once.

Kenny stroked his skin, circling his thumbs along the ridges of Aaron’s spine, and his soft, shallow breaths had Aaron tingling. He shivered.Trembled. Wanted Kenny to peel back his skin and see how his desperate, aching heart only beat for him. It was irrational. Ludicrous. Aaron hadn’tmeantfor this. Didn’t want it.

Yet, here he was. In Kenny’s arms.

Dancing with him to the music he calledhome.

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