His pitch is nothing short of perfection. Professional singer–level perfection. There’s something tender about his voice. He has a certain quality, the way he moves into his upper register effortlessly.
I tiptoe back to listen again. He’s giving me chills. But also…
Iknowthat voice.
I bring my fingers to my temples.Why do I know that voice?
It’s on the tip of my tongue. I can almost place it. He’s reminding me of someone in a pop group. Maybe with a bunch of guy singers? Like a boy band?
Wait. That’s it!
Chase sounds like Baby C from 6ixPack! Like if Baby C grew up and had a deep man’s voice. Nobody else hits trills like that.
Err—hold on.
When I first saw Chase in the gym, I thought he looked familiar.That’sthe resemblance. Chase looks like Baby C, except Baby C was short and almost…babyish? I mean, he was sexy, for sure. He was the fan favorite, with his incredible voice and super suave dance moves.
Could it be? I’m trying to remember if Baby C had a mole on his cheek.
No. I don’t think so. And besides, Chase is not at all babyish. He’s tall and strong. Well built, with a wide jawline and broad shoulders.
I strain to listen once more, to see if I can pick out more distinctive features in his voice, but he’s stopped singing. It’s just the sound of my own music playing over the shower now.
I’m sure if Chase were Baby C, he would have told me by now. Tonight I straight up asked him if he was secretly a rockstar—though I meant it as a joke—and he said no.
He wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. Would he?
Hmm. Maybe I need to do some sleuthing.
His phone is in the bathroom with him, so I look to my bag in the bedroom. The whole world knows I’m in Cupid City. Tony and his team are probably on their way here already. I don’t see what difference it makes if I use my phone at this point.
I dig it out, then sit on the bed to turn it on. Again with the cacophony of sounds as hundreds of alerts pop up.
“Shush!” I mute it. I don’t want to see any messages until I’m ready to go back. I swipe everything away, then search for what I need.
Baby C.
OK, here it is. The picture on 6ixPack’s last album cover, with Baby C featured right in front. I zoom in. And…
Holy shit. He has the mole.
He has the fricking mole right there on his cheek!
I stand up straight.
Chase is Baby C!
I turn my phone off and throw it on the bed, spinning toward the bathroom.
He worked in the music business, all right. Only it wasn’t as a security guard. He was up on that stage, singing and dancing in front of millions of fangirls in the world’s most incredible boy band!
I crank the doorknob hard, bursting into the bathroom. “You’re Baby C, you asshole!” I throw the shower curtain wide open, and he’s there.
Naked and freaking glorious.
But his eyes are heavy with lust, one hand wrapped around his generous cock.
Oh.
