12
The morning is harsh. Paul considers getting up with Alex and going for a run, but gives up the idea for the thrill of Alex, dressed for the day, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing him before he goes. It’s warm and sexy and domestic. The two extra hours of sleep after Alex leaves, in a bed that smells of him, aren’t bad either.
There’s a writers’ meeting first thing at work. Paul pitches an idea while Victor watches him with his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. The concept has nothing to do with Zach, but Paul had finished this outline sitting in bed Saturday morning watching Alex wake up beside him. There’s a prickle at the back of his neck telling him that Victor, with his eye and memory for the personal affairs of his people, knows that.
His suspicions are borne out
