Dean chuckled. “Say…Wyatt…can I have my hand back?”
Wyatt quickly jerked his hand away, his cheeks turning crimson. “Oh God! I’m so sorry…I just…I really am a huge fan, and this is something I’ll never forget.” He shook his head. “I should stop…I’m making a huge fool of myself…”
“Yes you are, baby, and you’re embarrassing me in front of my boss.” Jordan smirked.
Dean planted a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Wyatt. It’s always a pleasure to meet a fan. And anyone that can put up withJordan is Okay by me.” Dean winked as Jordan rolled his eyes. “So what do you do for a living?
“I’m a personal trainer at Muscle Bunnies Gym. Well, technically, my first day is on Monday…so Iwillbe a personal trainer at Muscle Bunnies.”
“Really? That’s awesome!” Dean smiled, nodding toward Jordan. “Our yoga instructor also works at Muscle Bunnies. Maybe you’ll meet Lenny one day soon.”
Colton tilted his head. “You have a yoga instructor?”
“Yep. Lenny comes to the rehearsal studio three days a week and teaches yoga for the whole staff.”
Dean patted Wyatt’s arm. “And you’re a trainer, huh? Maybe I can hire you to give me some new ideas for my workouts?”
Wyatt’s eyes traveled over Dean’s body like a ravenous wolf. Colton could have sworn the boy was drooling. It would make sense. Dean was exceedingly attractive, and this guy was clearly hungry for more. It made Colton’s skin crawl, Wyatt eyeing Dean like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Wyatt swallowed hard. “Absolutely! Anytime. But would you want to train at a gym, being such a famous celebrity?”
Dean smirked. “Oh, no. I have a full gym in my loft. You could train me in my home.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. This boy was in heavy swoon mode, and that made Colton want to punch him, hard and repeatedly, in that pretty face of his.
And why the fuck did Dean need him? Colton could show him any kind of workout he wanted. And why the hell did this bother Colton so much? Aside from the fact that Wyatt was eyeing Dean like a sleazy car salesman. He’d only known the guy for all of five minutes and Colton was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
Colton huffed and headed to the bar for another drink. He needed to separate himself from this little lovefest for a bit before he made a fool of himself.
Dean could talk to anyone he wanted. He could hire any trainer he wanted. Hell, he could openly flirt with anyone he damn well pleased, and Colton had no say in the matter. Why was he having these feelings? He couldn’t give Dean what he needed, so why be jealous when someone was eye fucking him? They were friends, on their way to becoming really good friends. Even then, he couldn’t be Dean’s only friend, that was unrealistic.
But something about this whole Wyatt thing was twisting his stomach in knots, so he slammed a shot of whisky, put on his happy face, and returned to the conversation.
Luckily for Colton, reinforcements arrived just in time. His teammates Greg and Bryce, along with their respective partners, Sarah and Chrissy. They'd make a great distraction from watching this Wyatt fella shoot heart eyes at Dean.
About an hour before showtime, everyone was relaxing and chatting backstage.
A frantic production assistant, Charlene, hurried backstage hugging her iPad within an inch of its life. Her glasses were slightly askew, her hair was mussed, and boy was she fucking stressed.
Dean chuckled. “Charlene, honey, you look frazzled. Would you like some wine?”
Charlene giggled, but it had a nervous I’m-on-the-verge-of-a-breakdown vibe. “No…I can’t…not until…we have…there’s a…” Her breathing became short and staggered, and she was teetering dangerously close to a full-blown panic attack.
Jordan, Wyatt, Colton, and Sophie all shared concerned looks, their eyes darting between one another, to Charlene, then to Dean.
Dean gently placed a hand on the side of her shoulder. “Charlene, look at me…now…take a deep breath with me.”
Charlene nodded and slowly inhaled with Dean. “Good…again.”
After her second breath, her shoulders released slightly.
“That’s good.” Dean patted her shoulder. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
Charlene exhaled deeply. “We have a problem. We need to delay the start of the show by thirty minutes.” She glanced at Dean, tension radiating off her body. “Please don’t be upset.”
Dean furrowed his brow. “Why do we need to delay the show? What exactly is the problem?”
