Page 46 of High Notes & Hail Marys

“Kai and I are going to head out back,” Sterling tells Margo, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“You boys sleep well,” she says.

You are confused when Sterling leads you out the back door. The backyard is huge and neatly landscaped, with a covered pool and several raised flower beds. Solar lights and pavers make a lit path to the good-sized cedar pool house with French doors and a gray shingled roof. Warm light spills from the inside.

“This is where I stay,” he tells you, taking you by the hand.

“Where’s Cal sleep?” you ask. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him skulking around for several hours.

“I flew him out to Colorado to spend the weekend with some loved ones of his. He insisted on getting me settled and bringing you in, but I convinced him that I’d be okay at home. It’s not like I have any big plans to go paint the town red this weekend.”

“Ahh,” you say, nodding. He can’t really see it, as he’s unlocking the door to the pool house.

Inside, it’s small, but very cozy. There’s just a tiny, neat living room and a bedroom, with a narrow bathroom. The inside is the same reddish cedar as the outer walls. In the living room, there’s a tall bookshelf crowned with a platinum album award forSterling Grayson, his debut. A teal guitar is propped in the corner. Your carry-on bag is onthe couch, and your suitcase is rolled against the wall. A pocket door is open to reveal the bedroom. There’s a wide wooden bed with a sage coverlet and an overstuffed chaise longue. The curtains on the high windows are thick and covered in a riot of florals that evoke a forest floor, all deep green and plum.

“There’s one bed,” you say cautiously.

“Mmm-hmm,” Sterling agrees. He’s pulling all the blinds and curtains closed, and shouldering off his heathered t-shirt. “God, I smell like a cupcake.”

“Am I sleeping in the house?”

Sterling shirtless goes to your head a little, just like it always does. You keep expecting that the sight of his bare skin isnotgoing to turn you into a puddle of goo this time, but it keeps happening anyway. The light is warm-hued in the pool house, and the planes of his dancerly muscles are limned golden. There’s an explosion of powdered sugar on the hip of his jeans.

“Oh. Yeah, no,” he says. His eyes meet yours, and he dimples shyly. “I thought you’d, you know. Sleep with me.”

“You sure?” Skeptically, you hitch a thumb in the direction of the house. “Are there no extra bedrooms? Because I can sleep on a couch. Maybe not the couch in here, because it’s kinda fun-sized, but I saw in the den…”

“Kaius.” He says your name simply but directly.

“Yeah?”

He puts his arms around your neck. Hedoessmell like a cupcake, but you probably do, too. His skin is smooth and leaching a lot of heat. Even in his shoes, he has to push himself up to mouth at your neck.

“There’s a guest bedroom,” he says, into your skin. “Two if you count the apartment in the basement where Cal was staying, but my mom probably hasn’t changed the sheets just yet.” His nose is chilled from the outside as he rubs it maddeningly under your chin. “It’s not a matter of extra space. I want you here. With me.”

Without thinking, your hands find his waist. “Uhh… oh. Yeah. I like that a lot.”

You aren’t sure if you are still talking about sleeping arrangements, or his mouth in the space behind your ear. Sterling laughs like you said something funny. In reality, you probablysoundedfunny, his ministrations making you squeak like a schoolboy.

“I’m so glad,” Sterling says,sotto voce.“I’m so glad you are here, Kai. Thank you for spending the holiday with me.”

It’s a sweet sentiment, but the fact that he’sunbuttoning your fly and insinuating his palm down your pants, against where you are already painfully hard for him, is making you incapable of coherent thoughts.

“Argh…” you manage, when his fingers close around your length.

That makes him laugh again, husky and deep. You have the sneaking suspicion that Sterlingenjoysrendering you speechless. You make another sound, this one a strangled moan, but Ster swallows it with his mouth and tongue, sealing them over yours.

The pump of his wrist is brisk enough to keep you hot as boiling oil, but too lazy to build a tempo that might escalate the situation.

“Come on,” he says finally, breaking the seal of your kiss and leading you by the waistband toward the pocket door. “Let’s go to bed.”

***

You’re an early riser as a general rule, and Friday is no exception. When you open your eyes and check your phone, it’s only 7 AM. Sterling is curled into your side like a cat, his long curls mussed and his breathing even and slow. His eyes crinkle when they are closed. It’s really fucking adorable.

You consider spooning him and trying to catch a little more shut-eye, but your bladder iscomplaining. So you ease out of the bed as carefully as possible, pull on your underwear, and pad to the bathroom. Once you’ve answered the call of nature, you find that you are irrevocably awake. Cuddling Sterling would probably just wake him up, and while you love the idea of slow, sleepy morning sex, you know that he badly deserves a little extra sleep. There’s nothing to do in the little pool house, and you are fiending for coffee, so you brush your teeth, pull on some clothes, and head over to the main house.

Luckily, the back door is unlocked. You let yourself in quietly, making sure that you don’t track any grass inside.

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