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... so domestic that it felt like a contradiction to everything that was going on. Kellen didn’t hate it. He liked that he was in his home clothes, in their apartment together as Kellen made lunch. Rhys wasn’t sitting at the island, but instead standing behind him, his arms wrapped around his waist. They rested on his stomach, Rhys’ chin on his shoulder as he moved around the kitchen with Kellen, not against.

It felt more like a dance than anything else.

Rhys’ soft breath against Ke ...

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