He found himself playing back the mornings after Nolan stayed the night. Sometimes, much like now, he felt like it was meant to be, like they were an old married couple. And occasionally he allowed himself to picture them just that way, years down the road, still very much in love, and wearing wedding bands.
Just the mere idea of wedded bliss, sweet matrimony, stole the breath from his lungs.
One thing at a time, he told himself, weddings came later so just focus on tonight and worry about forever later.
“Makai, sweetie?”
He blinked, leaving his fantasy behind. “Hmm?”
Nolan titled his head, one of those cute quirks of his that Makai loved. But then again, he loved everything about Nolan, well, with the exception of the channeling-slipping habit Nolan possessed when it came to radio stations in the car. He changed the channel after every song, always searching for a jam he liked better.
Here’s to hoping I’m not a stale song, Makai prayed.