by Anna Zabo
Adrian grunted. “I just spent almost two days listening to every Twisted Wishes song I could get my hands on and watching videos and interviews.” He cocked his head and held Dominic’s gaze. “It’s brilliant stuff. Not my usual fare, but apparently I need to branch out. Consider me a fan.”
“You’re not just saying that because of Dom?” Ray pinned him with a look that was pretty much hurt my best friend and you’ll be talking to me.
Adrian shook his head. “Lying destroys trust. I meant what I said.”
“Ray.” Zavier spoke the other man’s name like a gentle touch, and it pretty much had the same effect.
Ray softened and smiled. “Yeah, okay. I’m just looking after him.”
“I’m capable of looking after myself, thank you.” Dominic plucked at his guitar, cheeks red but a smile dancing on his lips.
Mish snorted. “We gonna play more?”
They picked out another song and started in on it—and stopped and started several times. Each time, Ray commented on an aspect and they corrected or tried new notes or rhythms; much of the terminology was out of Adrian’s wheelhouse. But when the song clicked, he felt it in his bones and sat up straighter.
Ray must have noticed, because he got a cocky-ass smile, then nodded, and that, Adrian realized, was when Ray finally accepted him.
By the end of the night, through the interactions and playfulness they included him in on, and from just watching the band work, Mish’s prediction came true. He liked all of them. Quite a lot.
He also couldn’t wait to get Dominic home.
* * *
When the band played the last song of the evening to Ray’s satisfaction, Dom unplugged and unslung his guitar, then grabbed his water bottle. Best practice yet. Didn’t know if it was all the weeks of work or that Adrian sat enraptured on the far end of the studio. He’d seen that look from him before, that admiration, but never quite this intense outside of the bedroom.
He kinda wanted to go over there, kneel down and just—be with Adrian. Thank him for coming. For not freaking out entirely about the rock-star thing. For liking their music. Holy shit.
A clatter of drums shook Dom from his thoughts. Zavier spun a stick around his fingers before dropping it into the holder on the kit. “Well, that was enjoyable.”
“It was fucking awesome,” Mish said, and Zavier grinned.
“Yeah, I think we’re almost ready.” Ray clipped the mic into the stand and glanced around at them before peering out at Adrian. “Kinda nice to have an audience, too.”
Adrian straightened in his seat. “I’m grateful you let me be here.”
“Sweetheart, we all wanted to meet Dom’s man.” Mish unplugged and set her bass down, as well. “He’s only been talking about you for weeks and weeks.”
Was Adrian blushing? Shit. Now Dom’s cheeks were hot. “I mean, I didn’t talk about you that much.”
Ray chuckled, then his smile slipped away. “You know, I’d invite you out to dinner with us.”
Ice blazed through Dom. “I’m not dressed—”
That was dismissed with a wave of a hand. “I know. But I’d like to get to know Adrian a little better.”
“But even if Dominic were dressed as Domino...” Adrian left the rest hang.
Because Domino didn’t have a boyfriend, and the press would be on Adrian like dogs on a fox if they saw him with the band. “I’m sorry,” Dom said.
Adrian rose, and everything about his posture was relaxed, yet powerful as he made his way toward Dom. “You have nothing to apologize for. You have a public life and a private one. I’m part of the private one.” He gripped Dom’s shoulders, and those gold-flecked eyes held his. “I understand.”
“You really did listen to all the songs and shit this weekend, didn’t you?” Dom stared back. This man was a fucking wonder.
Thumbs stroked his neck, and one side of Adrian’s mouth rose. “I did, yes. And read that magazine article and various things on the internet, too.”
“He has to be a scientist if he’s researching.” Zavier’s wry amusement sounded somewhere behind Dom.
He didn’t bother looking, not with Adrian closing the last of this distance between them and those lips brushing, then tasting his. Fuck, he wanted out of here. Wanted to be back in Adrian’s house and on his knees or in his bed or being fed dessert.
But Adrian smiled and stepped back, his gaze flicking away. Probably to Ray. “I do have to say, your website’s a little...out of date. Content-wise, and stylistically.”
Oh shit. Yeah, Dom knew about the content. He kept meaning to fix the links and add new shit, but he hated that. Hated the whole social media thing. Wasn’t sure how it had fallen to him, except he’d been the one to say they probably should have one.
“Ah.” Ray breathed the word out. “Yeah, I know. But—”
“It’s me.” Dom huffed a laugh. “I’m the one responsible for the social media, and I told you I only do templates and pre-built stuff.”
Adrian actually pinched the bridge of his nose. “Babe.” Strain there.
Zavier chuckled and Dom lobbed his water bottle at him, which he deftly caught. “I was actually laughing at your gentleman.”
“Don’t care,” Dom said. “Fuck off, Zav.”
“Guys...” Mish held up her hands.
“No, no, it’s my fault, too,” Ray said. “Marcella’s been after me to hire a web designer and a social media handler, but I hate handing that much power over to someone outside us.” He gestured at the band. “I don’t trust people that much anymore. And I’ve no fucking clue where to even begin.”
Adrian nodded. “I understand that, too.” He paused, brow furrowing. “I might be able to help with the where to begin part of it, though. Give you a list of what you should look for.”
“Really? Do you have a business card or...” Ray drew Adrian away to exchange information.
Zavier tapped Dom on the shoulder with the water bottle he’d lobbed, then handed it back. The words he spoke were quiet and serious. “He’s good for you, Dom.” Which was pretty much like Zavier telling him he should up and marry Adrian, ’cause he rarely made such comments about anyone. Dom stared back, and Zavier shrugged. “If you want my opinion.”
“I—Thanks.” Dom glanced over at Adrian’s back as he and Ray exchanged numbers or emails or something in their phones. “He’s magnificent.”
“That’s what you should hold on to.” Zavier gripped his shoulder briefly, then slipped away to get his own water.
Adrian returned, somewhat chagrined. “I didn’t mean to put down your work on social media.”
“Well, it’s been kind of crappy. If it had been anyone else, you’d have said the same thing.”
“Probably. But that’s not the point.”
Dom took his hand. “Yeah, it is. And yeah, you’re right. I don’t know a damn thing about good design or managing social media. We didn’t have any cash, and then when we did, we had no trust for outsiders. Hell, Ray still keeps Marcella at arm’s length, and she’s doing some good things for us.”
Adrian’s shoulders softened, and his smile returned. “If it helps, Ray did give me her contact info.”
“Yeah, that’s good.” Dom looked around the studio at everyone getting their things to leave. “Hey, wanna get out of here? I can be the young office assistant the hot suit came here to find.”
Adrian’s grin sent a shiver through Dom. “A little roleplay, Dominic? You are full of surprises.”
“Hey, baby, I’ll file your folders.” He waggled his eyebrows at Adrian.
That got Dom a laugh. “I don’t even know what that means.” Adrian grabbed his tie, suit jacket, and messenger bag. “But yes, let’s get out of here before the rest of your band leaves and you’re found out.”
Dom retrieved his backpack and they both said their goodbye
s to Ray, Zavier, and Mish before heading out. The crowd of fans in front of the building was pretty thick, but given that he wasn’t in Domino’s gear, had his glasses on, and walked out with Adrian, he didn’t care. Plus, Adrian was describing his weird day at work, which sounded hellish and awful.
One more reason he was grateful for being a rock star—even if he weaved through his fans undetected.
“It’s hard to be a team player when you don’t know the rules.” Adrian twisted his face. “Three months ago, everything was great.”
Interesting. “What happened?”
They made it to the subway station, and walked down to the platform in tandem, pausing only to swipe their cards. “I have no clue.”
Weird. “There’s gotta be something that happened. Like, did someone new come in, or like someone get a promotion or something?”
Adrian peered down at the tracks, his brows knitting. “Maybe. Jackson thinks I’m up for promotion, but the only thing that happened was that I was chosen to work at a customer site for two weeks. It went fine, though. The install was a success. The customer was as happy as customers ever get.”
“So you made waves.”
“I did my job, and did it well.” He paused, and the silence was filled with the rumble of an approaching train. “But I suppose that might have been enough to make waves.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it’s just an annoyance.”
Seemed like a little more, but Dom wasn’t going to argue. He slipped his arm into Adrian’s as the train—the one they needed, thank fuck—came to a stop. “Got dinner plans?”
Oh, that smile. Part happiness and part seduction. “How about something simple like spaghetti, and we crack open that bottle of wine you brought the other day?”
Sounded promising. They flopped down on the plastic seats. “Can I make you late for work tomorrow?”
Adrian’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, then pinned Dom down. “Yes. I think that’s very much in order, as well. We have some catching up to do.”
“Anything you want, Adrian.”
A nod. “And everything you need, babe.”
Fuck yes. Dom leaned back in his seat, pressing against Adrian, who knew him in totality now. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Life was grand.
Chapter Nineteen
Despite Dominic spending every evening with Adrian since he’d attended Twisted Wishes’ rehearsal, Adrian hadn’t been late for work once. He’d even made his workout sessions with Jackson.
Hell, at this point, he really ought to give Dominic a key to his place. Watching him head back to his own place in the morning, bleary-eyed, was rough. Almost as rough as watching Dominic, sleep-and sex-mussed, lounge in bed while he picked out his suit and tie.
“This is becoming a habit,” he’d murmured this morning.
Dominic’s smile had been part yawn. “I like this habit.”
So did Adrian.
He’d also gotten an email from Ray the day after the rehearsal, introducing Adrian to their band manager, and asking questions about the website and social media. During down times, while tests ran on his code, he started compiling a list of issues on his phone, then turned them into a return email. Hadn’t heard anything after that, though.
As for work—well, he’d gone back over his email during the business trip he’d taken, from the correspondence with the customers to those with Russ and Russ’s boss, and couldn’t help but think that maybe Jackson and Dominic had been onto something. His being chosen for the customer job and having executed it well may have been seen as some kind of threat by William. An indication that Adrian might be promoted.
Part of him seethed with anger. He’d worked hard and, yes, deserved to be rewarded. But a larger part didn’t care anymore. He was burning out. Too much corporate culture. Too many suits. None of it had any soul.
And there was the drop of envy for Dominic’s life. Passion and love. Talent. The ability to make a difference. Turned out Twisted Wishes wasn’t at all silent about equal rights, especially for queer people. Even Domino, who was usually flippant in many of his interviews, fell into serious Dominic mode when that was brought up.
It was heartening, but also came with that pang of regret. There were principles that had fallen by the wayside because of convenience and a paycheck. Maybe it was time to consider other avenues.
Once this damn project was done. Adrian fell into the rhythm of coding, so much so that he didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings or whether anyone was at his cube entrance.
He flinched when Jackson rapped on the metal frame of his cube, but the quip he had in his throat died as soon as he saw the worry in Jackson’s eyes and pinching at his mouth. He hadn’t been that upset during their workout in the morning. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You got a moment?”
The tightly whispered words made Adrian’s stomach lurch. This wasn’t about business. Shit. Had Jackson’s job interview and potential offer fallen through? Dude had been so excited at the possibility of working on something he loved. “Of course.”
Jackson stood back and nodded down the hall. Okay, so this was a conference room chat, which meant it was serious and that Jackson didn’t want the rest of the office overhearing. Adrian rose and followed him to one of the smaller rooms.
Once the door was shut, Jackson fiddled with his phone and held it out. “I thought you should see this.”
Adrian took the phone and stared at the screen. It was a photo of Dominic—as Dominic, not Domino. He was obviously unaware of the photographer because he was laughing while talking on his phone. Upon closer inspection, Adrian realized it had been taken near one of their haunts—he recognized the coffee shop behind Dominic.
Cold leeched into Adrian, and he scrolled the image so he could see the gossip site—and the headline screamed out at him.
DOMINO GRINDER’S TRUE IDENTITY REVEALED.
Oh shit. Fuck. He blew out a breath...then his stomach dropped even further. Because Jackson knew. Somehow he knew Adrian was dating Dominic—or rather Domino. He’d never said Dominic’s last name.
“How...”
Jackson twisted his face. “Apparently people noticed a twink with Domino’s tattoos the other day. Creepy photographer got up a couple of floors in a nearby building with a telephoto lens and saw him playing with the rest of the band. They followed him home.”
Shit. The other day. Dominic had rolled up his sleeves while playing. Adrian hadn’t even thought to mention that he ought to roll them back down. Fucking heat of the summer, after all. The rest made sense, too, but that hadn’t been the question he’d been asking. “No, how did you know I was involved...” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.
Jackson laughed. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I saw you and your man at the Met a couple of weeks ago, and you looked so into each other. I didn’t say hello, ’cause I was out with mine, too, and well...” He gave a little shrug. “But I remembered him, ’cause he was just your type. All scholarly and cut and handsome.”
Dominic was beautiful. “He is all that. Normally keeps his tats under his shirt.”
Jackson met his gaze. “You had no idea who he was, did you? That’s why you asked me about Twisted Wishes.”
“No clue at first. I just sat down next to him at a local haunt, because he was reading some old gay lit about rentboys and seemed like he might enjoy some company.” Seemed like ages ago. “Then I saw him on the cover of a magazine. Well, those tattoos of his.”
Jackson laughed hard. “Yeah, I guess you’d know those. Jesus, Adi.”
Adrian couldn’t help the chuckle, but sobered quickly. “He’s managed to keep his legal name out of things before now.” A little more scrolling told Adrian the press had uncovered Dominic’s full name...and with that, people could find out all the details associated with it, including his address. All you needed was to search th
rough public records.
This wasn’t good at all. Oh damn. He handed the phone back. “Don’t say anything to anyone.”
“I won’t.” Jackson stuffed the phone in his pocket. “But...if they’ve figured out who he is and where he lives...”
They’d eventually find Adrian, too. Especially since they’d been out in the neighborhood together a lot. All it took was one person to fly off at the mouth.
“This is gonna be a fucking nightmare.” He clapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem.”
They both left the conference room, and every step back to his cube was laden with shocks of dread and worry. Dominic needed to know, if he already didn’t. And if he did...god. Adrian just hoped he was all right and with his band, who knew him and loved him.
There was no way Adrian could rush up to Chelsea and show up at their studio, not without causing more issues. By the time he entered his cube, his chest was tight and his arms tingled in precisely the wrong way. Sitting down in this state wasn’t an option, so he grabbed his phone and headed toward the door. He needed air and space and somewhere quiet to call Dominic.
He got two of the three when he exited the office building into the busy streets of Wall Street. Right, so calling was out. He fired off a text message.
Hey. I saw something on a website. They found you.
The reply came about a minute later. We saw. I’m okay. I’m with the band and they’re keeping me calm.
Thank god for that. What do you need from me?
The pause was a long one. Adrian looked up and started walking toward Battery Park. Part of him still wanted to catch a train up to their studio. No one knew who he was. With his suit, they might even take him for a lawyer or...something. Someone other than the strange role he’d found himself in: Domino Grinder’s secret boyfriend.
Lie low for me. I don’t want you tangled up in this shit. OMG, Adrian. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.
He didn’t like the sound of that. Because it almost sounded like...regret.
We’ll think of something, babe. Hang in there. When things blow over, we’ll talk.