“Exactly.” He steps off the wall and brushes by me, his hand on my arm. “And the occasional light touch. But chaste for the jock,” he teases.
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Should I dare to ponder your definition of chaste?”
He bites the bottom of his lip, just barely, holding back his smile. “I’ll treat you like a gentleman. I promise.”
Fuck. That lip bite is distracting.Iwant to bite his lip.
“Thank you. And I mean the compliments, by the way. You only played that song for me once the other morning, but I can still hear it. I know you’re going to be amazing.”
He pushes his hand through his hair. For once, I think I’ve got him flustered.
It feels nice.
“I appreciate that. Wasn’t planning to go with ‘Last Man Alive,’ but hey.” He shrugs. “I’ll consider switching it up. Does that mean we’re ready for another fake date?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. I think we got this.”
“Perfect. I’ll text you the details.” He winks at me. “Have a good night, hubby.”
I roll my eyes, mainly just to disguise how charmed I am. “Sleep well, dear.”
Gabriel exits. I walk over to get myself another glass of water, and on the way, my feet glide across the floor.
It’s not until I reach the sink that I realize I’m dancing.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
GABRIEL
Fox standsin front of the mirror, fussing with his suit. We’re in my dressing room atLive & Late, waiting for the show to start with Marco, who is sprawled across one of the velvet couches, twirling his drumstick and staring at the ceiling.
He’s spent endless hours this week hammering out the sound with me, and I definitely feel like I owe him one.
“When does your husband arrive?” Fox asks casually. “Is he usually this late?”
“No, he’s usually this prompt,” I say, just guessing about that fact but certain that I’m right. “The show doesn’t start for ten minutes, and I’m not on until near the end. I told him not to worry about arriving early.”
Fox shrugs as he turns from the mirror. “Whatever you say.”
“Man, I still can’t believe you’re married,” Marco says. He sits up. “Don’t get me wrong. Everyone does marriage their own way. Domingo and I are looking for lots of unconventional things together.” He points the drumstick at me. “But you used to act like being single was your defining quality.”
“Being a rock god is my defining quality.” I grab a soda water from the mini fridge. “Refusing a serious relationship was just personal preference.”
Before Marco can rib me more, the door swings open, and Spencer walks in. He’s dressed in a fitted dark suit, paired with a white T-shirt to keep it from getting too dressy, and he looks so damn handsome, my jaw nearly drops.
One thing about a man like Spencer: he sure knows how to wear a fucking suit.
“Hey,” he says, catching my eye with a quick smile, and turns to Fox as he extends his hand. “Good to see you again.”
Fox clasps his hand. “Of course. Good show at the Australian Open, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that in Seattle.”
“Hey,” Marco says from the couch. “I’m Marco.”
Spencer nods. “The drummer. Right. Glad to meet you.”
Spencer looks to me again, and I think we both realize at the same moment we’re supposed to do a better greeting for Marco’s sake. Quickly, I pull him into an embrace. “Thanks again for coming,” I say into his ear, and his strong body feels warm against me.
Relief eases through me. I want to breathe deep, inhale his scent. I’m not sure why seeing Spencer feels so comforting, but he does.
