“Nah, not even close. Anytime we’ve talked about it, he’s been extremely intent on mentioning that he keeps his personal life separate from his sex life.”

The twinge turns into a cascade of warmth and churning rapids.

“Oh.”

“You don’t sound thrilled about that. I thought you were into him as more than a scene partner?”

“I am!” Rowan insists, too loudly for their quiet conversation. “I’m just….” Rowan sighs, unsure how to phrase his qualms.

“Just what?”

“Worried if it doesn’t work out. If he doesn’t want something more.”

“I think the fact that he’s inviting you over speaks for itself, Rowan. Again, from what I know, he doesn’t do that. Not even to do something outside the club’s rules, no matter how badly he wants it.”

“Yeah?” Rowan’s voice is hopeful, giddy.

“Mm-hmm,” Jeremiah hums. “And I obviously don’t know too much about your sex life together, but Mal’s been different ever since you two started scening.”

“Different how?”

“Less grumpy. More open. Dare I say, happier.”

Sheila’s words from weeks ago echo in Rowan’s mind. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Mal so happy.

“He makes me happy,” Rowan confesses, feeling like a blushing teenager.

“I think you’re good for each other. Not that you need it, but you’ve got my blessing.”

“That means a lot, actually.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Just make sure you know how to do whatever specifically he’s asked for safely, and anything that happens beyond that is a bonus.” He takes another bite of his bar, half chewing before adding, “It obviously means something that he’s asked you to come over, so run with it. Let yourself have it.”

Rowan’s stomach churns again at the thought of something more happening on Saturday night. But Jeremiah’s words successfully cure his fears, and now he finds that he’s immensely looking forward to this weekend.

“Thanks, Jer.”

“Anytime.”

ON FRIDAY night, Rowan’s phone vibrates with a message. When he opens his text thread with Mal, he’s greeted with an artsy, slightly out of focus photo of Mal’s neck. The picture is cropped above the cut of his jaw and below his clavicle, the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders on tantalizing display. Rowan’s mouth waters.

[MS] can’t wait till tomorrow

Fuck.

[RC] Me neither

[RC] Gonna make it so good for you

[MS] i know you will

[MS] been dying to feel those big hands for real

In an instant, Rowan’s hard in his sweats.

It’s going to be a long twenty-four hours.