A notification pinged—Dropbox link delivered.
Another ping: Max had updated the rehearsal schedule. Theo clicked on it, his jaw tightening. Max had doodled a stick figure in a leather harness into the margins.
“Christ, Max.” Theo erased it with two keystrokes, restoring his columns and colour codes. “If I don’t run this like a system update, it’ll fall apart like every other mess in my life.”
The thought snapped sharper than he meant it to, but then again, the truth always did.
He tried to focus on the client email. Firewall breach, patch required, passwords compromised. Easy. Safe. Predictable. But his mind betrayed him, peeling back to Luka.
Wild Luka, with hands that clutched and pushed away in the same breath. Luka, who argued with kisses as if they were weapons.
Luka who’d once whispered during sex, “Honestly, Theo. You really can’t control yourself, can you?”
“Slow down. You’re always rushing. It’s like you’re embarrassed to want anything.”
“You’re better when you’re quiet.”
Years might have passed, but the words had stayed, rusting into him.
The lesson had been burned into him.
Being out of control isn’t sexy. It’s dangerous.
The phone buzzed again, but this time it was Max. Theo hit Answer, then the speaker.
“Am I interrupting you?”
Theo snorted. “Youknowthe answer is always going to be yes. What’s up?”
“I’ve had an idea for this weekend,” Max said in a rough, low voice. Theo could hear the grin all the way from London.
“Your ideas are dangerous. ‘Hey, what about starting an a cappella group?’” he said, mimicking Max’s deep voice.
“Wow. You’re good. You should be on the stage. Who else can you do? Because that was an amazing impression of Darth Vader.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nope. You’re not my type. Can we get back to my idea now? I think we should get together with the six guys we’ve found so far. That’s assuming you haven’t changed your mind about any of them.”
That earned him another snort. “Well, I knowyouhaven’t. In fact, I’d swear your dirty mind is already working on how to get some of them into that club you love so much.” He paused. “I think we need a No Fraternisation rule.”
“Does that mean I don’t get to fuck any of them, or they don’t get to fuck each other? Because I don’t disagree with either of those options, but you know how people are. Rules are made to be broken.” Max chuckled. “Leave it alone, Theo. Let them focus on singing. And back to my idea—again. I thought we could meet up in a bar, you know, see how we all fit together before we throw everyone into a studio.”
Theo’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “What kind of bar?”
“A leather bar.” Max’s cheerful tone rang out. “Low lights, cheap beer, bad decisions. Perfect testing ground.”
Theo hesitated. He wasn’t closeted, but he’d built his walls high for a reason.
I don’t do messy anymore.
Not since Luka.
Yet part of him wanted to see the outcome of such a gathering, to hear their voices together, to listen as rough edges smoothed into harmony.
Eight men working out if they belonged together.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
