Page 95 of Sycopation
That happened when the alarm on Zavier’s phone chirped. A sigh from beneath him. “Time to get up. We need to be washed, packed, dressed, and back on the bus in an hour.”
Ray groaned in frustration. But they both moved and separated as they hurried to get ready.
Still, the warmth in Ray’s soul didn’t abate, and burgundy and bright blue danced in his head.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Ray’s asswas sore enough that dancing tonight was going to beinteresting, but it was the Hollywood Bowl and fuck if he wouldn’t give it his all. Still, he had to survive the bus ride there, enduring Zavier’s placid and knowing smile, Mish’s smirk, and Dom’s blush. Guess sound traveled. Well,oops. A large part of him didn’t care because he’d enjoyed himself. The other part was still absorbing what Zavier had told him—that he was aromantic.
So much of their relationship snapped into focus, and lingering doubts about the future drifted away. Zavier didn’t want this to end. If anything, he wanted to extend their partnership longer.
Hope slipped into Ray, soothing away fear. They could be together, be friends, make music, have sex and play. He could kneel for Zavier and sleep next to him. Ray could love Zav and...
Since Zavier’s legs were tangled in his, Ray felt the exact moment when he tensed. “Shit,” Zavier muttered while staring at his tablet. He tapped and swiped and his frown deepened, then swung his legs around to sit up, and Ray lost that warmth and connection. “Fuck!”
“What?” They all said the word—him, Dom, and Mish—at nearly the same time.
Zavier was trembling, and given his expression, it was from anger. He silently handed his tablet over to Ray.
He braced himself mentally, then looked. Another photo, this one taken through sheers of a window. It took Ray several seconds to puzzle out what he was looking at—a man in the throes of passion. Naked, though the photo was blurry enough to keep it from being explicit. Another figure lurking behind. Cold terror shot through him, becauseRaywas the man in the photo. That was Zavier behind him.
They could deny it, he guessed, but, fuck he was shitty at lying. “This—this is from Houston.”
“Yes.” Zavier’s answer was clipped and precise.
“But we were twenty floors up!”
“Maybe a drone. Maybe a photographer in another room.” Zavier stood and paced to the berths, then back. “Someone knew exactly where your room was.”
“That’s creepy,” Dom said, voicing the thought running through Ray’s mind.
He checked the caption. Yeah, the gossip site knew it was him. His room, after all. Right hair color. All that shit, but the identity of the person behind Ray was unclear. He read on, then nearly dropped the tablet. The story mentioned seeing a young-looking fan entering the elevators.
Zavier took the tablet out of Ray’s hands and passed it to Dom. Mish read over her shoulder. “Fuck,” she murmured.
Ray looked up at Zavier. “How’d you find that?”
Zavier sighed. “A friend sent it to me. She—looks out for me.”
“Your elusive mentor?” Dom again.
Zavier nodded. “Nadia Rudd.”
That should have come as a shock. Maybe would have, had Ray’s mind not been fixated on that photo and the article. But it also made some kind of sense that the woman best known for escorts and sex parties would have been a mentor to Zavier.
That she was helping Zav—warning him—also spoke volumes.
“Who’s the other guy?” Mish asked.
Zavier sat down. “Thankfully, that’s me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is not what you—what we need right now.”
“No kidding.” Finally Ray’s anger rose. “Whynow? It’s been weeks!”
Zavier shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. No one sits on something like that.”
Ray could only blow out a breath and stare up at the ceiling of the bus. No use asking what he should do—there really wasn’t anything to do. “At least we know. I’d hate to be blindsided by this from Carl.”
