It felt formal as I followed him, the eyes of the employees glancing our way. But once Peyton shut the door to his tastefully decorated office, something snapped, and one tension was replaced with another.
Fuck, he was hot. Handsome and burly, but kind of geeky, too. I knew he was a partner at the firm, but when I saw the framed diplomas, the expansive drafting table along the wall, and the midcentury modern executive desk, it hit me that he was a boss.
Hell yeah, Peyton.
“So you’re designing a nightclub?”
He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the drafting table, a computer screen behind him displaying technical drawings. “It’s mainly your brother’s project, but we like to toss things back and forth, get each other’s eyes.” He adjusted the glasses. “Nice of you to come in and help.”
“I’m trying to be consistent,” I said. I wanted badly to flirt, but I tried to wrestle that impulse down.
Peyton smiled softly. “I’m sure Noah appreciates it. You want something. Coffee, tea?”
I shook my head. “I’m good. Show me what you’re up to with that design.”
Peyton turned to the drafting table, and I took a mental snapshot, knowing I would fantasize about grabbing his suspenders and fucking him over his work later. “I’m not sure how much of this would make sense,” he said, shuffling some papers around, “but I can try to explain. We’re mainly just trying to figure out the sound design.”
“What kind of club?”
“Pop music. Contemporary, downtown, kind of pricey.”
I stepped close to him as I looked at the drawings, which were scribbled over with numbers I could barely read. “I’m ignoring the math,” I said with a wave of my hand, “but if that’s your DJ booth, you’re making a mistake.”
“Oh?”
“Right by the bathrooms? No thank you.”
He chuckled. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”
“Really, though. If you want to walk me through the sound design, I can help you out. I make electronic music, so I like the technical stuff.”
“It’s impressive,” Peyton nodded, and when I arched an eyebrow, he chuckled. “I figured out your DJ name and googled some of your music.”
“Oh really?” I grinned, pleased. He’d apparently been thinking about me, maybe as much as I’d been thinking about him. “Are you a new DJ Jettt fan?”
Peyton swirled his finger in the air, a gesture I found adorable. “It’s really good. Fast and repetitive, but always changing, too.”
“That’s right,” I smiled.
“And now I know how to pronounce it.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“I would have said Jet-tuh-tuh,” he told me, slowly pronouncing eachT.
“Nope,” I laughed. “Those are just extra letters because it’s cool, I guess? My friend Eve picked it for me so I would stand out.”
Peyton tapped the side of his head. “It must take a lot to pull off music like that.”
I glanced down at the drawings again. The elegant lines danced across the table, and my eyes bounced with the movement of it. “Or this. But I guess it’s similar.”
“How do you mean?”
“Numbers. Patterns. It’s all kind of a puzzle, but in the end, you just hope it looks good.”
“And sounds good.”
“Exactly.”
