Page 13 of Syncopation
“He would have showered you with gifts and flowers.”
“You know exactly how much that means to me.” Not a damn thing. He didn’t comprehend that kind of love—or the trappings of it. So much of romance seemed downrightsilly.
Though, had it just been Dimitri falling for him, that wouldn’t have been as bad. No, Dimitri had wanted Zavier onhisknees with declarations of love. Zavier had been so clear about that the first time they’d fucked. Sex without attachments. They hadn’t even been friends.
“Oh yes. You’re every submissive’s dream and every romantic’s nightmare.” Nadia’s laugh was light. “You didn’tcall to hear about yourself.”
No. He hated when she told him the gossip about himself. Ignorance was bliss, and all that. She, of course, told him anyway. A bur under his skin to remind him that he was young and still had much to master. “I was wondering what you could tell me about Carl Roberts. He’s Twisted Wishes’s band manager.”
There was a pause—one that was long enough to mean he’dsurprised her. “The band manager? Interesting. Your impressions?”
“I’ll keep those to myself for the time being.” He’d rather have the information unbiased by his opinion. While Carl seemed to be an unmitigated asshole, Zavier couldn’t be certain that Ray hadn’t done something to make the situation worse. Though, Ray was tooopenin his pain to be hiding anything.
“It may take me a bit.Managers are so less interesting than musicians.”
He kept his chuckle inside. Unlike Nadia, he’d bedded more than musicians. Allsortsof people were fascinating. “Whenever you can. I don’t want to impose.”
“Of course you want to impose, darling. It’s why you called.” She practically purred the words.
He purred right back. “But you adore it when I call.” He’d owe her. Not sure whathe’d have to give up—that always changed—but it would be worth the trouble.
“True.” She paused. “Do take care, darling. The music industry can eat you alive.”
It was already chowing down hard on Ray. “After my last misstep, I’m certainly more cautious.”
“Good. You were my best student, Zavier. I’d hate to see you fodder for tabloids.”
He didn’t quite swallow his laugh this time.She’d love to see juicy tidbits about his life spread out for all. They made their goodbyes, and as he hung up, the band’s lunch arrived in a beat-up white four-door sedan. He helped the driver carry their order upstairs. Surprisingly, Carl had pre-paid and even given a decent tip.
So being an utter asshole only extended to the band—or maybe to just Ray. Hopefully whatever Nadia dug up wouldmake sense of that.
Once the driver had left and they set about eating, Ray asked the question Zavier had been waiting for. “You talk to Carl?”
“He blew out of here so fast, I didn’t even make it to the parking lot before he was gone.” He took a bite of his sandwich—and closed his eyes against the flavors. “Shit, this is actually good.”
Murmurs of agreement, and for a few minutes,they were content. Food did that—eased pain and frustration.
But as they finished eating, the tension inched back into the air. “What are we going to do about the studio space?” Dom crumpled his wrapper and stuffed it into a bag. “We can’t tour on three days of practices.”
Ray screwed up his face. “I know. I don’t—” He stopped and his expression smoothed out and became distant. Calculating.Beautiful.
Oh, Ray, what do you have up your sleeve?
A sly little smile, then Ray glanced around—and focused on Zavier. “I’m finally going to get you into my garage band.”
Delight slithered all the way down to Zavier’s core. “How many years have you been waiting to say that?”
Oh, and there was the lovely blush, right on schedule. “Too many.” He didn’t look away. “The house we’restaying in has a big-ass garage. Not ideal, but it’sspace.”
Zavier gave Ray his most charming smile. “You finally have me, Ray.”
Mish looked like she was about to choke on her cheesesteak. “You two are going to end up screaming at each other. I know it.”
“I don’t scream.” Not even when Dimitri had thrown a vase at him for not buying roses after their first month together. Raise hisvoice? Sure. Ordered a man to his knees? Yes. Scream? Nothing souncontrolled.
“I don’t, either. It strips my vocal cords.” Ray shrugged. “Also, I don’t have to like someone to work with them.” He stared at Zavier.
Ray didn’t like him? Zavier gazed back until Ray turned away, all reddening neck and catching breath. Not true, that. There were, after all, many differentkindsof like.
