Page 160 of In at the Deep End

Matt glanced at the chopping board. “You’ve already added garlic. That’s way too much.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“I think you’ll find there is.”

Owen grinned. “Well, it won’t matter, because the only person I’ll be kissing after it is you.” He scraped his knife across the board and dropped the garlic into the pan. Owen gave him a pointed stare. “Keep stirring.”

Matt shook his head. “What film are we watching after dinner?”

“You can choose this time. I chose the last three nights.”

“Nothing too loud. No explosions. No dead bodies.”

Owen chuckled. “Well, that narrows the field.”

“How about A Matter of Life and Death?”

“Again? You know every line of the film.”

“So do you. I had to listen to you reciting it the last time we watched it.” When Owen didn’t respond, Matt glanced at him. He paused his stirring. “Is everything okay?”

Owen tilted his head. “I’m not too much of a distraction, am I? You coming over so often isn’t stealing time you should be spending on the dissertation, is it?”

Matt let go of the spoon, turned to face him, and looped his arms around Owen’s neck. “If that was the case, I wouldn’t be here. Everything’s on track.”

Owen’s mouth found his, and Matt lost himself in a lingering kiss.

“Matt,” he murmured against his lips.

“Hmm?”

“Burn our dinner, and I’ll make you eat it.”

Matt smiled. “I was in the mood for pizza anyway.”

Owen’s days had taken on a pattern, and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

Some evenings they barely seemed to do anything at all. They talked, kissed, and sat together in comfortable silence. Matt discovered Owen liked having his hair touched. Owen discovered Matt automatically reached for his hand whenever they sat beside each other.

Sometimes a kiss became another kiss.

Sometimes they just lay together on the sofa, legs tangled, talking about nothing. Matt told Owen about Edinburgh. Owen told him stories about hotels he’d owned, guests he’d never forget, staff who’d taught him more about hospitality than any business course ever could.

They laughed, argued over films, stole food from each other’s plates, and fell asleep together more than once.

Somewhere in all those ordinary moments, something changed. Not in a dramatic way. There was no single conversation that marked it.

Matt didn’t feel like a visitor anymore. It was more a case that he seemed to belong there. Owen stopped noticing when Matt arrived.

He only noticed when he wasn’t there.

Chapter Thirty-One

Owen’s arms bracketed Matt’s head as he thrust slowly in and out of him.

“I’ve got you,” Owen murmured between kisses. He moaned when Matt tightened his body around his shaft. “I love it when you do that.”

Matt’s hand found his cheek. “I’ve got you too.”