Page 61 of Love By Design

There was apparently a lot for us to talk about after dinner.

“Once,” I confirmed. “And it was just last night.”

“Please tell me how that happened.”

“We just…he’s really big on negotiating what happens in a scene and not changing it up. We never talked about a kiss until last night.”

He scrunched his nose and leaned away from me, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Is that weird of him? To be so strict?”

I shook my head. “It’s not…it’s not bad. It’s actually really fucking hot. The way we talk through things before we do them, but I think now that we’ve agreed we’retogether, he’ll be more willing to change within a scene.”

“Is every time you have sex a scene?”

I opened my mouth to answer but fell short. I wanted to say no, but the answer—so far—was yes. And if Marshall was meant to be my boyfriendandmy Dom, then I imagined yes…every time it would be a scene. Or maybe none of the times would be a scene, it would just be us.

“So far,” I answered. “But I don’t think that will be forever. I have plans to see him later tonight, and we were supposed to talk about all of that.”

“What do you want from him?”

“Everything.”

Lincoln worked his jaw back and forth, stare hazy, like he was looking through me instead of at me.

“That’s serious, Silas.”

“I know.”

“So serious you only had two bites of your favorite dinner.”He pulled the shawarma away from me and closer to him, repeating his same hummus as glue trick with the chicken before shoving a forkful of meat into his mouth.

“Trying to be courteous,” I said. “All things considered.”

He made a thoughtful sound as he swallowed, and I was just glad his appetite had returned.

The course of our conversation had given me whiplash. From work to Riot to Marshall to us. I hadn’t realized until this conversation just how much of my life was currently in flux. It was like standing on a cliff and being ready to jump, even though I had no idea what I’d find at the bottom.

It was easy to feel safe when I was with Marshall. His dominant nature and easy kind of caretaking style were enough to make sure I never doubted my security with him. It was the days without him where everything was called into question.

“He’s good to you, then?” Lincoln asked, tone completely different from before.

“He’s amazing.”

“I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”

“Hey.”

He glanced up at me, and I scooted my chair closer, knocking our shoulders together before resting my head on his. The closeness to Lincoln felt as right as it ever had. So much so, I wasn’t sure how I would react if Marshall took issue with it. Lincoln’s and my physical affection was as important to our friendship as our conversation.

“Hey.”

“You deserve it too.”

Lincoln snorted, sighing heavily and dropping his head against mine.

“Let’s worry about you for now. We can deal with me later.”

I pretended to dry heave, the attention too much. “Thanks, I hate it.”

“Too bad.”