Without thinking, he put an arm around her lower back and pulled her into his side. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“It will all work out,” he told her.

“I hope so.”

He liked holding her like this, comforting her. He’d do anything to put a smile back on her face.

“Where’s Bash tonight?” he asked.

“Sebastian … or should I say Kurtis … is out with Genevieve.”

Franky laughed loudly. “I know your brother’s been hurt in the past by girls going after his money, but I still can’t believe he lied to this girl about who he was.” Sebastian was the most straight-laced, honest guy on the planet, so to find out he’d hidden his true identity from a girl he was interested in was quite shocking.

“I told him it was crazy, but you should’ve seen the look in his eyes when he asked me to help him keep the secret. He really likes her.”

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this into a girl so quickly.”

“Me neither. And Genevieve is so sweet. But he wants to make sure she really didn’t know who he was or have ulterior motives before he tells her the truth.”

“I get that, and she seems legit.”

“I agree. But we thought the same thing about Serena before she conned us all, so I can understand his hesitation.”

Franky remembered well the heartbreak Sebastian suffered after Serena’s betrayal. Being wealthy had its blessings, but it also had its share of curses—not knowing if someone was using you for your money being the biggest.

“I really hope this doesn’t blow up in his face,” he said.

“Me too.”

They were quiet for a minute, and he inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of vanilla that was always present when she was around. He liked how warm and soft she felt against his side, but he knew he couldn’t get too used to it.

Franky suddenly perked up as the notes of a familiar song began to play. “You know what we should do.” He spun his legs around and jumped down, holding his hands out to Skylar, thankful for the distraction.

She looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Dance.” He tilted his head toward the band.

Realization crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right. This is your song.”

He laughed, remembering a night several years ago when he’d taken to the piano at a Schultz Foundation gala to play “You’re the Inspiration” by Chicago.

“You should get up there and play it with the band.” She jumped down and grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the stage.

“Oh, no! No way!” He pulled her to a stop. “There will be no encore presentation tonight.”

“But you performed it so well at the gala. I never knew you had such a good singing voice.”

“That was a one-time show.” He tapped the tip of her nose for emphasis, and she wrinkled it at him, which was perfectly adorable.

“Come on! Play something.” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

Sudden longing stirred within from the desire to kiss that perfect lip, and he groaned. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t say no to that pout.”

She smiled widely and clapped her hands together as she headed off toward the stage. He needed a few minutes to himself anyway. Calm your hormones, man.

When the song wound down, Skylar spoke to the members of the band, pointing in Franky’s direction, and they motioned for him to join them.

Franky rolled his eyes at Skylar, who was beaming as he climbed the stage. The man at the keyboard stepped back, allowing Franky to take his place.