EVIN HOPED THE BLOKE wouldn’t get the wrong idea...he didn’t seem to have, though, so that was good. Not that Kev would have kicked him out of bed for eating biscuits...quite the opposite, particularly if he brought his own biscuits and was happy to share. But he didn’t much feel like a wrestle in the sack at the moment—he was too focused on his drawing, like a live thing inside him wanting to press its way out from his chest to the page—and anyway the tenuous line of connection he could feel running between them seemed...more than that? Somehow? He could get laid any night of the week he wanted with a bit of eyeliner and an evening clubbing in Swansea or Cardiff. But this spark of attraction combined with the desire to find out more about a person was worth exploring in a non-shagging way
