Kenneth was far from awake when he heard the water hitting the wall of the shower. He smiled sleepily to himself. Sated and happy, he rolled over in the bed, breathing in the fragrance of his lover, of himself, of their mingled passion in the sheets. Since Brooke got over her worries about our future, this has become quite a lovely romance, he thought drowsily. It’s not really bedtime though. I guess we’re both working pretty hard.
A fragment of Beethoven drew him up from near slumber. Grumbling, Kenneth dragged his heavy limbs off the bed. When the melody intensified, he stumbled over to his coffee table where he had plugged his cell in. He made a wild grab, barely registering his mother’s number as he pushed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. “Lo?”
“Hi, son. How’s it going?”
