“I’m all yours.”
* * *
ERIC HANDSME a glass and we both sit on the floor by the fireplace, our backs leaning against the foot of the bed behind us. The sound of crackling wood fills the silence, the scent of cinnamon wafting around from the candles on the mantlepiece. It all reminds me of a distant memory; something I’d love to relive, even for just a moment.
“You seem sad,” Eric says, breaking the silence.
“I was just thinking.”
“About your family?”
I look at him and smile. “It’s nice to be surrounded by this kind of magic again. I thought it would only be a memory for me now, but here you are, injecting a little life into me.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Look where I am. We’ve had an amazing day – something I’ll carry with me for a long time.”
“I’m happy you like being here.”
“I like being with you. I haven’t felt like this for ages.”
“You haven’t felt comfortable with a guy, you mean?”
I nod, embarrassed.
“Tell me about you, Mr. Quinn.”
“Mmm?”
“Your story, your past. The men who let you get away.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I want to know everything about you. Tonight. And I only want the truth.”
“No pretending, then?”
“No pretending.”
“Same for you?”
“You have my word.”
I take a sip of whiskey and run my tongue over my lips, savouring the taste under Eric’s watchful gaze, which hasn’t left me alone all night.
“Why don’t you ask me something?”
Eric thinks for a moment, then asks me directly: “Were you in love with that guy?”
I furrow my brow in confusion.
“Your student.”
“Oh, him…” I push my glasses up my nose, uncomfortable.
“You promised me the truth,” Eric reminds me.
“I was infatuated.”
