bluetooth headphones hugged the headrest of a leather mid century lounge chair. Avery looked up at the sound of music and his eyes went to the built in speakers overhead. A moment later, there was the hiss of an espresso machine from the kitchen. Avery was flipping through the albums on the shelves when Mason entered with a coffee mug and handed it to Avery.
“Can I borrow your keys? I want to get something from your apartment.” Mason asked. Avery nodded absently as he pulled them from his pocket and tossed them at Mason. “I’ll be right back.” Mason said as he strode through the door. Avery turned back to the shelf and his eyes widened when he realized that he’d handed someone keys to his apartment without hesitation. Woah. He waited for panic to set in. Nothing. A moment later, he heard the door open. “I’m back. Your keys are on the counter.” Mason called from the kitchen.
Avery shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. It was heaven. Rich, strong and not too sweet. Avery hummed contentedly as he continued to flick through the albums. The coffee was really, really good. If the sex was half as good as Avery expected it would be, he’d have to marry Mason. After twenty or so minutes, Avery made his way into the living room and wandered over to the piano. There were stacks of sheet music but Avery didn’t know the first thing about reading music so he turned his attention to the kitchen.
“Can you play something for me later?” Avery called. He saw Mason shut the oven door before he turned and nodded.
“Sure. How’s your coffee?” Mason asked as he opened the fridge and started filling his arms. Avery thought about offering to help but remembered Mason’s orders.
“Amazing. Should I propose now or wait until after breakfast?” He asked. Mason turned and his smile was stunning.
“We haven’t even gotten a dog yet and you better have a ring.” Mason winked before he turned his attention back to cooking. Avery grimaced and shook his head.
“No dog.” He said as his eyes fell to a book on the coffee table. He heard a soft chuckle from the kitchen.
“We’ll see.” Mason warned. Avery would have responded but his mind was absorbed in the book in his hands.
“You wrote this!” Avery said as he flipped it over in his hands and saw a small picture of Mason in a grey suit leaning against a desk. “You didn’t tell me you’re an author.” He looked over and saw Mason shrug as he chopped.
“I tried to be but I found that I enjoyed the marketing and business end of the process more. And I can’t make a living as a writer.” He admitted. “Hey, I’ve had that sitting there for days. I promised Lidia from the coffee shop that I’d give it to her but I keep forgetting it. Remind me to take it with me when we go out.” Mason turned to the stove and Avery made a sound that indicated agreement as he fell into an armchair and opened the book.
Some time later, Avery looked up when Mason called to him. He was already 62 pages into Mason’s book and had completely lost track of time. The story was riveting and the language was beautiful. Avery had been transported to 19th century Europe and the interwoven lives of two cousins divided by the shifting politics created by the rise of Napoleon. Avery was sincerely torn. He didn’t want to stop reading but he couldn’t tell Mason he didn’t want to eat.
“The book is beautiful, Mason.” Avery said as he sat at the table. Mason blushed and looked down as he set a plate before Avery.
“Thank you. Unfortunately, there isn’t a huge market for that sort of thing.” He came back from the kitchen and set a plate of scones on the table and sat close to Avery at the round table. Avery snorted as he cut into his omelet.
“People are reading crap right now. Just because the society that embraces Honey Boo Boo and The Kardashians doesn’t appreciate your writing, doesn’t mean your book isn’t a success.” He took a bite and groaned. Spinach,
“Can I borrow your keys? I want to get something from your apartment.” Mason asked. Avery nodded absently as he pulled them from his pocket and tossed them at Mason. “I’ll be right back.” Mason said as he strode through the door. Avery turned back to the shelf and his eyes widened when he realized that he’d handed someone keys to his apartment without hesitation. Woah. He waited for panic to set in. Nothing. A moment later, he heard the door open. “I’m back. Your keys are on the counter.” Mason called from the kitchen.
Avery shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. It was heaven. Rich, strong and not too sweet. Avery hummed contentedly as he continued to flick through the albums. The coffee was really, really good. If the sex was half as good as Avery expected it would be, he’d have to marry Mason. After twenty or so minutes, Avery made his way into the living room and wandered over to the piano. There were stacks of sheet music but Avery didn’t know the first thing about reading music so he turned his attention to the kitchen.
“Can you play something for me later?” Avery called. He saw Mason shut the oven door before he turned and nodded.
“Sure. How’s your coffee?” Mason asked as he opened the fridge and started filling his arms. Avery thought about offering to help but remembered Mason’s orders.
“Amazing. Should I propose now or wait until after breakfast?” He asked. Mason turned and his smile was stunning.
“We haven’t even gotten a dog yet and you better have a ring.” Mason winked before he turned his attention back to cooking. Avery grimaced and shook his head.
“No dog.” He said as his eyes fell to a book on the coffee table. He heard a soft chuckle from the kitchen.
“We’ll see.” Mason warned. Avery would have responded but his mind was absorbed in the book in his hands.
“You wrote this!” Avery said as he flipped it over in his hands and saw a small picture of Mason in a grey suit leaning against a desk. “You didn’t tell me you’re an author.” He looked over and saw Mason shrug as he chopped.
“I tried to be but I found that I enjoyed the marketing and business end of the process more. And I can’t make a living as a writer.” He admitted. “Hey, I’ve had that sitting there for days. I promised Lidia from the coffee shop that I’d give it to her but I keep forgetting it. Remind me to take it with me when we go out.” Mason turned to the stove and Avery made a sound that indicated agreement as he fell into an armchair and opened the book.
Some time later, Avery looked up when Mason called to him. He was already 62 pages into Mason’s book and had completely lost track of time. The story was riveting and the language was beautiful. Avery had been transported to 19th century Europe and the interwoven lives of two cousins divided by the shifting politics created by the rise of Napoleon. Avery was sincerely torn. He didn’t want to stop reading but he couldn’t tell Mason he didn’t want to eat.
“The book is beautiful, Mason.” Avery said as he sat at the table. Mason blushed and looked down as he set a plate before Avery.
“Thank you. Unfortunately, there isn’t a huge market for that sort of thing.” He came back from the kitchen and set a plate of scones on the table and sat close to Avery at the round table. Avery snorted as he cut into his omelet.
“People are reading crap right now. Just because the society that embraces Honey Boo Boo and The Kardashians doesn’t appreciate your writing, doesn’t mean your book isn’t a success.” He took a bite and groaned. Spinach,
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