Page 11 of The Boss

I jolted upright. “Bullshit.”

He nodded, smug. “1992. The Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert at Wembley.”

My jaw dropped. “You saw that? Live?”

“I did. My mother was from the UK, so we were there at the time, visiting family in London. Both my parents were Queen fans and decided to take me. I was only ten, but it changed my life.”

“That’s so fucking unfair.”

Isaac snickered, tilting his head back against the wall. “Now who’s brooding?”

I let out a dry chuckle. “I mean, come on. George Michael’sSomebody to Love? Bowie and Annie Lennox? Metallica? You got to witness actual music history.”

He gave a lazy shrug. “Perks of being an old man.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I take that back. You’reancient.”

“Keep talking, Landry, and I’ll start critiquing your music taste.”

I gasped. “How dare you. My playlist is pristine.”

“What, Ariana Grande and Beyoncé? Drake and Kanye West?” He snorted. “Your generation doesn’t know what good music means.”

“Hey, we have Adele!”

He only grunted. “The exception that proves the rule.”

“Fine.” I leaned forward. “What’s your guilty pleasure song?”

Isaac gave me a look. “I don’t have one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. Everyone has one.”

“I don’t feel guilty about my music choices.”

I smirked. “So, you admit you listen to embarrassing songs.”

He sighed, low and measured, like he was regretting ever engaging in this conversation. “I… might have a soft spot forI Want It That Way.”

I almost choked on my own breath. “The Backstreet Boys?”

He shrugged. “Classic.”

I gaped at him. “The big manly honcho listens to boy bands in his free time?”

“Correction—one song. And it’s a banger.”

I flashed him a crooked smile. “So, you do have a guilty pleasure song.”

Isaac shook his head, but there was something different in his expression now. Less tense. More relaxed. His eyes weren’t so sharp, his shoulders weren’t so rigid. Like the weight of his day had finally started to lift. I liked seeing him like this. He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “I needed this.”

“What, the sauna? Or me clowning you?”

“Both, it seems.”

I gave a sly grin, leaning back again. “Happy to be of service, boss.”

Isaac’s lips curved, but he didn’t reply. He let his head rest against the wall, eyes half-lidded, body loose with the kind of relaxation I’d never seen on him before. Like, for the first time all day, he could justbe. And fuck if that didn’t make me feel some kind of way. I noticed his towel had loosened even more, exposing his dark pubes, the root of his cock emerging above the fabric.

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