“Shit. Sorry, Sin.” He strides over to me and cups my knee with one of his huge hands. I suck in a deep breath of his scent and have to fight the urge to sink into his arms. There’s something about Cal that screams comfort and safety and makes me desperate for a hug.
That doesn’t negate the other urge I have around the gentle Orc. The one that says it would be a great idea to wrap my legs around his waist and climb him like a very thick, sexy tree trunk.
“Are you all right?”
I nod, slightly mesmerized at the gentle way he’s rubbing my bruised knee like it’s a serious injury.
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out slightly hoarse and I have to clear my throat, rubbing my eyes as I stretch out my tense neck muscles.
“You didn’t come for dinner,” his gentle reprimand has my eyes lifting to meet his warm ones and I shrug.
“I kind of lost myself in the zone. I want to have something to show you guys soon, so I don’t feel like such a mooch.”
And I’m shitting myself that Dorian’s right. That you’ve been too nice to me all week and I don’t know how to handle it.
“You’re not a mooch, Sin.” He sounds genuinely horrified at the thought, and I can’t help but smile.
“We like having you here. Even if you weren’t able to come up with a single thing, I can’t tell you how good it feels to have you around.”
How can a guy who’s twice my size be simultaneously cute and sexy as hell? He’s a paradox, soft and hard, wrapped into a single glorious package.
“Sin?”
I jerk again and realize I lost myself for a moment there. “Uh, yeah?”
“You’ll come?”
Dammit. It seems like I got so hyperfocused on Cal’s general wonderfulness; I missed what he said.
“Dinner. You need to eat, Sin.” He stands and holds out his hand. My stomach growls right on cue.
“Yeah, you need to eat,” he growls.
Slipping mine into his, he pulls me to his feet and draws me toward the door.
Chapter 15
Sin
It’s just the two of us for dinner, since Micah’s muse hit while he was practicing earlier and the last time I saw him, he was in his workshop, fully in the zone.
Together, Cal and I whip up a chicken and lemon pasta that we both inhale in record time. Cal’s quiet, seeming to be content for us not to talk unnecessarily. And with how frazzled my brain is feeling after hours of burying myself in work today, I’m glad for it.
“You don’t seem to enjoy the trappings that come with being a rockstar,” I say.
My mind may still be on Dorian’s words from earlier.
He was right about one thing. None of these guys are what I expected from living with rock stars.
Cal lets out a deep chuckle that hits me right in the gut. “I like a quiet life. Sounds stupid, I know. But it’s true.”
“Do you like the traveling that comes with it?”
He cocks his head to one side, considering the question as he takes my empty plate. That’s something I really like about Cal. He’s deliberate with everything he does. He thinks before he speaks, and he does these little caring actions without even seeming to think about it.
“I like seeing the places. But it’s not like we experience them. It’s like living in a dream world—you see the lights, the people, the magic, but you never quite touch the ground.” He shoots me anothershy smile before grabbing the last chocolate muffin and placing it in front of me.
“Do you write the songs?” I ask. “You have a way of thinking about things that’s poetic as hell.”
