Page 134 of Killing Me Softly

Jack didn’t speak. He was listening. Really listening.

Kenny sighed, tilting his head back. “But one thing I’ve learned is not to take anything for granted. If I treat him as if he’ll be there forever, then I’ll grow complacent. I’ll start expecting it. And I never,ever, want to take this for granted.” He shook his head. “So I treat every day with him like it could be the last. I hold him tighter than I should. Kiss him as if it’s the last time I ever will. Give him all of me. And maybe—just maybe—in doing that, he’ll just keep hanging around.”

Jack smiled. Softly. Wistfully. Like he understood.

He looked back out at the scene before them. Aaron and Fraser running laps with Chaos, Aaron shouting dramatically about the rules of fetch as Chaos completely ignored them, Fraser laughing as he wrestled the ball back from the overexcited dog.

“If it’s of any worth to you,” Jack said after a while, “knowing I’m no behaviour expert… but I don’t think he will ever leave you.”

Kenny turned his head, watching Jack from the corner of his eye. “No?”

Jack smirked, then angled his head to Aaron. “Just like that little dog, you picked Aaron up when he was an abandoned puppy. He’s yours now.” He smiled at Kenny. “You’ll be picking up his shit for the rest of your life.”

Kenny barked out a laugh, lifting his glass to his lips, the warmth of the whisky coating his throat. He watched Aaron tumble to the sand, Chaos jumping all over him, laughter spilling from his lips. “I really fucking hope so.”

The day merged seamlessly into night, the golden glow of sunset fading into the deep indigo of evening. Kenny cooked for them all, the scent of roasted garlic and herbs filling the cottage, mingling with the briny sea air drifting in through the open windows. They ate together, laughter spilling over the clinking of glasses, the occasional bark from Chaos echoing beneath the hum of conversation.

They drank more.

And after the plates were cleared, Kenny put the old records on. The ones scratched from overuse, crackling in the quiet. Fraser and Jack swayed together in the living room, spinning slow circles on the wooden floor, while Kenny pulled Aaron against him, pressing his cheek to his temple as they moved in time with the music. Jack was the first to tap out, too tipsy to keep going, and Fraser carried him upstairs, chuckling as Jack muttered half-asleep complaints about being handled.

But Kenny, true to his word, held Aaronlonger.

Tighter.

And they danced, alone in the middle of the room, the warm, honeyed sound of Patsy Cline’sCrazywrapping around them, a perfect, poetic accompaniment to their story. Aaron draped his arms lazily around Kenny’s neck, tracing absentminded patterns at the nape of his hair with his soft fingertips. Then, without letting go, he pulled back just enough to meet Kenny’s eyes.

“What do you think I should do with the rest of my life now, doc?”

Kenny tugged him closer, possessively gripping the small of his back. “Stay here with me.”

“Your dirty little secret forever?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Aaron snorted. “We’ll run out of money.”

“I work.”

“You don’t.”

Kenny chuckled. Aaron was right. He didn’t really work. Not in the traditional sense. He worked on his book, an autobiography of his time profiling, wrote the occasional article. Sometimes he answered advice about case studies that were sent to him, just enough to keep some money in his pocket. But he had no plans to go back into academia. Not yet. Maybe one day.

He was done wading through the depravities of the human psyche.

“We could open a dog-sitting service,” Aaron offered, biting back a grin.

“No.” Kenny kissed the thought away before it could take hold.

“Fine,” Aaron sighed dramatically. “The only other skill I have is pole dancing?”

Kenny kissed him. Languidly. “I will pay you every night for that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Aaron laughed, then kissed him again, lingering, as if savouring the moment, sealing it. Then, as amazing as it was every single time, he said, “I love you.”