Page 111 of Key of Kink

I crept downstairs to the kitchen in socks and Max’s T-shirt—okay, fine, technically it was my T-shirt, but it still smelled of him—in search of milk to warm. When the house was this quiet, it seemed to make my thoughts that much louder.

The conservatory light was on, and I knew Maya would have checked that before she went up last night. Seems like I’m not the only one who can’t sleep. I padded in.

Sam was at the table, staring out at the garden. No sign of his laptop.

Okay, that isn’t good.

I cleared my throat, and he jerked his head in my direction. I smiled. “Hey. Are you watching for that fox you saw a few weeks back, or is there something on your mind?”

“The latter.”

“Would some warm milk with a little honey in it help?”

He sighed. “That sounds really good.”

I went over to the fridge, and Sam followed me. He leaned against the counter while I poured milk into two mugs and placed them in the microwave.

“So what’s interrupted your sleep?” I knew what was stopping mine. It began with M and ended with X.

“Caroline.” When I gave him an inquiring glance, he shrugged. “I’m not sure if I’m with her because I love her or because I don’t want to be alone.”

“That’s a bit heavy for…” I peered at the wall clock. “One in the morning.”

Sam huffed. “You’re a fine one to talk. You’ve been weird all day.”

I glared. “I am not weird.” His only response was to raise his eyebrows. I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’m a bit weird.”

Sam snorted. “And the rest. You reorganised the fridge based on ‘likelihood of immediate use in a crisis.’”

“And your point is?”

“You live in Walthamstow. What crisis involves mayonnaise?”

I crossed my arms. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ve had… a day.” I bit my lip. “Except the fridge part wasn’t the weirdest bit.”

“What could be weirder than designating mayo as vital in a crisis?”

I hesitated. “Jess found me cleaning the bathroom tiles with a toothbrush.”

Sam blinked. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t text him.”

He cocked his head. “Him being Max.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Aha. Jess talked.”

He chuckled. “Did you really expect her to keep that to herself?” He paused. “And what about this morning? Sorry,” he corrected, “Yesterday morning.”

“What about it?”

“Jess said she caught you googling before breakfast.”

The microwave pinged and I removed the mugs. “I’m allowed to, aren’t I?” I grabbed the bottle of honey from the cupboard.

“It wasn’t so much the googling, it was your concentration.”

I squeezed honey into the mugs and stirred.