I’m angry about this, but not at him. What did I do to make him think this?
“Uh…” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “A few things.”
“Care to be more specific?”
“You made comments…” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound sure of himself.
“What kind of comments?”
“About people not seeing us together.”
“Because of work, Aliko,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed at him. “It had nothing to do withyou.”
“When I came down here before the show on Saturday, I was like this.” He gestures at his body. “And you were acting different.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “No shit,” I say. “Do you want everyone to know what we did?”
Recognition flares in his eyes. “What about over this last week? You kept looking at me like—”
My hand itches to reach out and touch him, to console him. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. I know what he’s going to say.
“Clearly we’re both mistaken,” I say instead, because why are we having this conversation? Does it matter that we both thought the other was mad? Or giving dirty looks? No, what matters is setting this straight and moving forward. I take a step closer to him, and now I’m standing so close that this could have people questioning us. But I could just say we’re telling secrets. “I promise you, Aliko, that there isn’t a single part of me that is put off by this,” I say, emphasizing thethisso he understands what I mean.
“Really?”
“Really.” I nod. “I understand why you went out that day in your human form, but I wasn’t disappointed to get you like that.”
“You weren’t?”
“Fuck no.”
“So, you’re not disgusted by my monster?”
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. “That is the last thing I feel about your monster, Aliko.”
He grins like he just won Drummer of the Year—which he probably will.
“If you’re not busy after the show, I can show you just how much,” I say.
His eyes widen before the blue of his eyes darkens, and his face turns more serious. Lustful.
“I’m not busy.”
“Good, because neither am I.” I smirk. “Your room or mine?”
He looks like he’s trying to figure that out but is having a hard time, so I do it for him.
“How about yours again? I bet it’s nicer than mine.”
“Okay,” he breathes out.
“I’ll meet you there.” I wink, then walk away, feeling better than I have all week.
The show, of course, is fucking explosive. This crowd’s energy is so different from the last show. They screamed louder. They jumped harder. They shouted all the lyrics without missing a beat—even when we had a small malfunction with the speakers and Lucien’s wasn’t working. It was a quick thing, we fixed it immediately, but hearing that crowd continue on like they were the ones who wrote it was magical.
I can’t get Aliko’s kit put away for the night fast enough. He and the guys are long gone, doing their meet and greets, and I’m pouting because people are getting to touch him right now while I’m not.
How the hell did he think I was disgusted by his monster? How could he ever think I wouldn’t like him like that?
