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‘Scotch, I’m at wherever you’re at. You’re Polaris itself to me. If I can see you? I know where I’m at. I know I’m good. Because you can never be lost. It’s impossible for you. There’s something in your core that always knows what you want. You just gotta. . . stay still for a bit. Let it come to you, you know? Look, you worked hard for your place there, and one thing I know about you is that you willalwayscarve out a path. One of the things I’m most sure about in life. Like it’s a religion or something.’

And love, blazing and blooming, pushed out a smile, pushed out a kiss. ‘What that make you, a monk?’

His hand glided down my stomach teasingly. ‘Let me at that holy water. See me bow my head in prayer.’

I snorted. ‘Blasphemous bars.’

‘Would you stay with me if I tried it to do it for real?’

‘Be a monk? I don’t think your boss would like the things I want to do to you.’

His eyes flashed hungrily. ‘Let’s revisit that, but nah. Music.’ He cleared his throat and let his croaky morning off-key, somehow-still-sexy voice reverberate through my neck, releasing more want, ‘How does itfeeeeeeeeeeeeeel.’

I wanted to know how it felt, right that second, but I released a play grimace at his D’Angelo imitation. ‘Pitchy.’

I heard his lazy, yawning smile echo through the pores of my skin. ‘Rah. So what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to support a young Black man’s dreams.’

‘Not indiscriminately, no, but go to sleep and try again. Let’s see what we can make work.’

He bit my shoulder, his laugh muffled. ‘You’re too rude. You think you’re the only one with a wicked tongue, Scotch?’

A delicious threat. I stubbornly held on to my train of thought despite increased difficulty. It was almost an endurance test I liked to do for myself sometimes: how long can I think clearly while Malakai’s mouth is on me?

‘Besides,’ I said, ‘musicians don’t try to be musicians. You don’t suddenly one day discover you’re a musician. Youareit. Can’t live without it. You justdo. You just be.’

‘Oh, is it? Got it. ’Skinda like loving Kiki Banjo. Ain’t no trying. It just is. You just do.’ His lips brushed a shiver through my ear. ‘You just be.’

I failed the endurance test.

‘Kai, do I feel hot to you?’

‘That a trick question?’

‘I’m being serious. I feel like I have a temperature.’ I picked up his hand and pressed it to my right breast. ‘You feel that, right? I think I’m coming down with something.’

Malakai’s smile of realisation was slow and slanted, his dark eyes dancing as he gently squeezed. ‘Yeah, actually. You’re on fire. Probably need bed rest.’

‘That’s what I thought. Damn. I was so looking forward to sensitivity-reading a fictionalised memoir of a slave owner.’ I picked up my phone and switched it on, ready to type out an email to my boss.

Malakai nodded as he pulled me into bed. ‘Do you know the best way to break a fever?’

‘Don’t say sw—’

‘Sweat it out.’

‘That’s a myth.’

‘It’s not. I’m a man in STEM– I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Sure. OK. Did you get your doctorate from the same school as Pepper and Sebi?’

‘I’m gonna ignore your sass for the sake of our relationship. For real, Scotch, I’m a medical science expert. For instance, I can induce amnesia. Watch how I’m gonna make you forget your own name in a few minutes. Just say the word.’

I grinned. ‘Word.’

He tapped his ear. ‘What?’

‘Word.’