Work on Monday was hellish for Adrian. Would have been anyway with more shit from Project Brada being dumped on him, and once more having to fix William’s mistakes in his own damn code. But the anticipation of experiencing the other part of Dominic’s life, of meeting the people that were for all intents and purposes Dominic’s family, had Adrian’s mind spinning in all directions.
He really didn’t need William’s shit now. Not even the punishing workout Jackson had pushed him through that morning stole away Adrian’s annoyance that the day would not go any faster.
And then Russ called Adrian into his office. Joy of fucking joys. He stopped two offices down to compose himself, because charging into the boss’s domain with a huge attitude would be about as helpful as trying to shove a punchcard into a USB port. Once he’d pushed down the annoyance to a level he could hide, Adrian strode forward and knocked on the doorframe.
Russ looked up and nodded to the guest chair. “Close the door, too.”
Well, shit. Adrian did as told and settled into the uncomfortable guest chair.
There was a look from Russ that Adrian didn’t like. “We need to talk more about the problems with your work lately.”
Adrian’s breath caught. “My work?”
“There’s been an increase in nightly test failures on your projects, Adrian.”
Yeah, well, there was a reason for that. But it wasn’t Adrian. “And if you look at the code check-ins, you’ll see that those aren’t caused by my coding, but someone else’s ‘refactoring.’” He even air-quoted the last word.
Russ frowned at him. “Are you blaming William for your mistakes?”
Adrian straightened in the chair and stared back at Russ until his boss actually flinched. “You know I’m not. I’ve always owned up when I’ve fucked up. I’m usually in here before anyone notices.”
Russ looked down at his desk.
“I’ve been working here for six years. I know my worth. I also know when I’m being set up.” Adrian paused. “If you want me out, for fuck’s sake, Russ, just tell me.”
Russ met his gaze again. “It’s not that simple, Adrian.”
Yes, it was. “Look, tell William I’m fine with cleaning up after him on Project Brada. But he needs to stay the fuck out of my code. Then you won’t have to yell at me about my work.”
Russ pushed a hand through his hair. “You need to learn to be a team player, Adi.”
Adrian’s spine went rigid. “Don’t call me that.” No one called him that but Jackson, and it was hard-won on both their parts. Mutual respect.
“See?” Russ waved a hand.
“It’s not a nickname I’m willing to give out freely.” Adrian kept his voice steady. “Please don’t use it.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Adrian closed his eyes briefly. “No, it’s not. You’re asking me to be a team player, not a friend or a lover. Hell, not even my boyfriend calls me that.”
Russ shifted in his chair.
“What the hell is going on, Russ?” Because something was out of sync. “Shit has been screwy since I came back from my trip.”
Nothing, just more stares, but Russ was damn uncomfortable.
Adrian sighed. “I’ll double-check the sections of code I’m responsible for before I leave each night. Clean up any mistakes.” He shrugged. “I can also build some automated testing other folks on the team can use to help spot issues, if you think that would help.”
Russ folded his hands and seemed relieved. “That’s acceptable.”
This was the weirdest conversation he’d ever had. “Shall I get back to it, then?”
Russ nodded, so Adrian rose and retreated to his cube, heart in his throat. Rather than IM Jackson via the company network, he texted him on his phone.
Just had the weirdest conversation with Russ. WTF is going on here?
Took some time, but a message came back: Easy. William is gunning for your job.
Adrian sat back. Sure felt like it. But his job wasn’t any better than William’s. They were both senior programmers. It’s not like undercutting Adrian would get William anywhere, unless...
Wait, am I up for promotion or some shit like that?
Sometimes you’re denser than a brick.
Adrian ran a hand through his hair. Well, shit.
Beer after work?
Any other day, yes. Can’t. Meeting my catnip and getting intro’d to his friends.
Oh ho. Getting serious. You didn’t tell me this morning!
He hadn’t. Mostly because he hadn’t wanted to let slip who Dominic was. Yeah, we are. Like you and your man. Apparently, Jackson had been at a family cookout with his jazz club boyfriend.
Blow me, Adrian.
Been there, done that.
The next text was an emoji of a middle finger. Adrian chuckled and set his phone aside. After all, he’d promised Russ a test. And he did need to fix all this shitty code.
Somehow, Adrian managed to get the code fixed, the scripts written, and a happy little group email sent out on how to run it. He ran the unit tests on his products and sent the results to Russ, then was out the door and into the elevator when the clock ticked over to five-thirty.
Getting to the address Dominic had given him was no issue whatsoever. Like many of the brick buildings in Chelsea near the water, it had been a warehouse before renovations. There was a pile of people milling around the entrance, and after a moment, Adrian spotted the Twisted Wishes T-shirts. Fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the band?
It must have been normal, but it was also a glimpse behind the why of the fear that lurked in Dominic. He didn’t know if he could cope with people peering into his life all the damn time. Thankfully, he looked like a businessman and not like a rock star’s boyfriend, so he slid right through the crowd and into the lobby of the building without anyone even looking his way.
He checked in with the front desk, and as promised, the guard knew he was coming and exactly where to send him. Adrian slapped the visitor label onto his suit jacket, and the guard led him to the elevator, activated the panel with his key card, and punched the fourth floor.
The doors slid closed, and Adrian took one breath then another. God. This was it. The other side of Dominic. His friends. His colleagues. All the missing pieces.
Would they even like him? Would he say something idiotic? He’d never met anyone’s family before.
The car stopped and the doors opened. There was a faint but unmistakable sound of live music coming from down the hall. He followed the sound to a door that had been propped ever so slightly open. Through the glass panel, he spied a band. The band—Twisted Wishes. They were in the middle of playing and holy hell, there was Dominic right there, his fingers flying across the strings of a bright yellow electric guitar. Jeans. One of his button-downs, but with the sleeves rolled up. Head thrown back, huge smile. Dominic moved, grooving with the rhythm, his gaze shifting to their blond lead singer, and then across the studio until those eyes snagged on Adrian’s and widened.
The notes went awry with a sound that had Adrian flinching and nearly running back down the corridor—this was Dominic’s domain and Adrian had just fucked it up—but Dominic’s eyes lit when they met his gaze.
“Adrian!” His shout was brilliance and joy and spun Adrian’s heart around in his chest.
Then everyone, all the other members of the band, were staring at him. Adrian swallowed and pushed the door open. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” Heat rose to his cheeks. Fuck, this was awkward.
“Honey, we wouldn’t have left it open if we didn’t want you to interrupt.”
He recognized Mish Sullivan, the Twisted Wishes bass player, instantly. Well, he recognized all the band members instantly. Adrian gave her a smile, then his gaze landed on Dominic again. He was grinning ear to ear, and that expression was infectious. Joy and light. Fucking hell. Lemons.
There was a little thump on a drum. “So, Dom, this is your gentleman friend?” Deep voice. Black hair, and a really fucking knowing grin. That was Zavier Demos, and he looked even more familiar than he had in the photo spread. Sounded familiar, too. Damn. Adrian racked his brain.
“Yeah,” Dominic said. “This is Adrian.”
“Adrian Doran,” he said, introducing himself. “Hello.”
Ray Van Zeller eyed him, his arms crossed. He still held a mic in one hand. “You’re wearing a suit.” Those words were almost accusatory. “Dom said you were a computer engineer.”
“I am.” Then it hit him. “Oh! I work for a bank. There’s no such thing as business-casual, let alone jeans and T-shirts.”
Ray uncrossed his arms. “Oh shit. That must be hell.”
“Sometimes.” Like today.
Dominic unslung his guitar and put it on a nearby stand. “Hey. Um. Can I have a moment before you all mob him?” He closed the distance between them. “Don’t mind them. They’re overprotective.”
“So am I.” Adrian couldn’t help reaching out and cupping the side of Dominic’s face. Yup. Dominic was real and here. He leaned in for a quick kiss. Tasted good, too. “It’s not a bad trait for friends to have.”
Behind Dominic, Ray swallowed a laugh. Heat touched Adrian’s cheeks.
“Nah, he’s not making fun of you. He’s commenting on Zav and his behavior.” Dominic drew him over to a table with water and food debris and chairs.
“I’m not overprotective at all,” Zavier murmured.
“Oh, bullshit,” Ray said.
“Boys...” That came with an exasperated sigh from Mish.
Suddenly, the memory was there in Adrian’s mind. A brief glimpse of a younger version of the Twisted Wishes drummer and that sassy deep voice. There’d been a BDSM party years ago, during one of his visits home from California, and he was sure he’d seen Zavier there, only he’d been a student at the time.
Adrian shrugged off his satchel, then took off his coat and tie, trying to figure out if he should even say anything. A touch redirected his attention to Dominic.
“What’s wrong?” Soft words. “I know this isn’t your element, and they’re a bit much sometimes, but these are my friends. They’re safe.”
And wasn’t it perfect that Dominic was looking after him? Making sure he was comfortable? Adrian laughed. “I’ve had a long day and I am off-kilter a bit.” He glanced over to where the rest of the band was milling, trying not to watch them or listen in. “But it’s not that. It’s that I’ve met Zavier Demos before. I just didn’t realize that until now.”
“Wait, what?” He rotated toward Zavier. “You know Zav?”
Zavier had come out from behind the kit, and his smile was a small, sly thing.
Ray gave him a shove. “Wait, you know Dom’s dude?”
Dom’s dude. Adrian rather liked the sound of that. He cleared his throat. “We don’t know each other. We crossed paths years ago, that’s all. But I remember faces.”
“Janelle’s party,” Zavier said.
Adrian nodded. “And you were that kid from Juilliard.”
Zavier gave a little bow.
Ray’s eyebrows arched. “So you’re into the same stuff as Zav?”
“Will you boys just say BDSM?” Mish set her bass down and strode to the table to snag a bottle of water. “Stop being so coy. There are parental warnings on our albums, and it’s not like I’m a petite and delicate fucking flower.”
Adrian burst out laughing. Couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the stress or the relief or just seeing Dominic so...himself...but the laughter poured out until he thumped into one of the chairs and stared back at Mish. “I like you.”
She grinned. “You’re gonna like us all by the time we’re done here.”
Dominic had that sunny smile on, and he looked light as air with buoyancy and energy.
“Hey, can I hear you play?” Adrian waved at the studio. “This time not while lurking outside a door?”
“Yeah, sure.” Dominic looked over his shoulder. “Ray?”
A nod from their lead singer. “I’ll even sing for your dude. Pick the song, Dom.”
Tingles up Adrian’s arm. He cocked a finger and beckoned. “Dominic.” Like a magnet, he came, all breath and blush and perfect obedience. He framed Dominic’s neck with his hands, and pulled him down into a much longer kiss. He might be Dom’s dude, but the reverse was very much true, as well.
“Go play for me,” he whispered against those sweet lips.
Dominic straightened, looked a little dazed, then gave a laugh of his own. “All right.” He sauntered over to his guitar and swung it over his shoulder. “How about ‘Born in Fire’?”
Ray nodded and the rest of the band got situated—and then Adrian was blown away by sound and movement and Dominic’s guitar. The lyrics were something else, too, as was Ray’s voice. Rhythmically, it was odd and wonderful. Mish played the perfect counterpoint to Dominic—but all Adrian could keep in his head was the way Dominic moved when he played and how absolutely free he looked. Adrian had seen a similar delight and joy in bed, but this was raw and wonderful and not erotic at all.
His heart and mind leapt. Yes. This was Dominic, in his life, with his passion.
Adrian doubted he’d ever be able to get enough of that, in bed or outside of it.
When they finished, they all looked at him, and Dominic gave a little shrug. “I know you’re not really a fan.”
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 goodbyes 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.