Dom had absolutely no issue falling into Domino for the next practice. The music came like lightning, with all the crash and edge and burn that he was known for onstage and in songs. Felt so damn good, too, that strength, that poise. Though he didn’t always like being Domino 24/7 on the road, he did miss the no-fucks attitude that came with assuming the role. The righteousness.
It was fun being Domino. So he played like he could rule the world.
Ray was more than pleased. And the energy must have been infectious, because he danced around the studio, singing his heart out like they were back onstage at some sold-out arena. Mish was on top of her game, strutting across the floor, and Zavier was his absolute astounding self.
And the songs, oh god, Ray had outdone himself. Sure, they all added bits and pieces, but Ray’s heart and soul had been poured out into this album. Every note, every word.
Dom loved it all, too.
When they broke for a rest, it was Ray who joined Dom by the window. The AC was on now, so this time the window was shut, but there was still something about peering out into the world after being surrounded by the motion and rhythm of their songs. A reset of sorts, to remind Dom that this wasn’t a dream even when it felt like it.
“You’re in a better mood today.” Ray tried to sound casual.
He eyed Ray, who couldn’t pull off innocent if his life depended on it. “You’re fishing for info.”
That earned Dom a laugh. “Yeah, but not really. I’m grateful to see you happy, whether you wanna share the reason or not.”
Dom leaned up against the wall. He was still a tiny bit bruised from being well-fucked and fucking well, and he so enjoyed that, but there was more, too. “I have a date.”
“Same guy as before?”
“Wait, you know about that?”
Ray’s cheeks reddened. “Zavier mentioned it. After practice.”
Okay, that made sense. Dom nodded. “Yeah, same guy. I...like him. Quite a lot.”
Ray got a look like he couldn’t understand what was coming out of Dom’s mouth. “Well, you better if you’re doing more than a hookup!”
And there was what elated and frightened Dom. “Yeah, it’s more than that.” He paused. “But I don’t know if it should be.”
Ray looked confused. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because of this.” He gestured to the studio and their instruments.
From across the room, Zavier looked up from his conversation with Mish. Dom must have spoken loudly enough, because the next words were out of Zavier’s mouth. “Because of this what?”
Of course, Mish looked over, too. Dom sighed.
“Sorry,” Ray murmured.
Dom knew better. “You are so not.” He punched Ray in the arm and strode over to the table Zavier’d been sitting at. “It’s that guy I met. I like him, but I’m not sure I should be dating him.”
Zavier cocked his head. “Because of the band?”
Mish beat him to replying. “It’s because of Domino, isn’t it?”
Ray gave Dom a look like he’d grown rabbit ears or alien antenna on his head, but Zavier nodded.
Dom sank down into one of the folding metal chairs. “Yeah. Because of Domino.”
“I don’t—” Ray shook his head and seemed to chew on his thoughts. “Are you saying, if you got serious with this dude, you wouldn’t tell him who you are?”
“I have told him who I am,” Dom said. “He’s seen who I am. I’m Dominic Bradley.”
“Sweetheart,” Mish said. “This is you, too.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I know. But who I am here, who Domino is, is so different from the guy Adrian met at a bar.”
“So the gentleman has a name,” Zavier said. “You like him.”
Couldn’t help the heat that rose to his cheeks. Dom shrugged, but he met Zavier’s gaze.
There was amusement in those eyes. “Friendship’s a good thing, Dom. I know you’re not asking for advice—”
“But you’re gonna give me some anyway.”
“He always does.” Ray looked up at Zavier and got that little dopey grin he always got when he looked at his husband. For his part, Zavier merely touched Ray’s hair. But that seemed to be all the connection they needed, because Ray laughed.
Zavier snorted and returned his focus to Dom. “Enjoy your gentleman friend. He seems to make you happy.”
Mish said what Dom had been thinking: “But...”
“But friendship is built on trust.”
Dom knew that. But having the words spoken gave them weight. “Yeah, and that’s why I don’t know if it should go further.”
Adrian might not like Domino. Hell, he’d said he barely paid attention to modern music—couldn’t get into it. How the heck was he going to enjoy or even understand what Dom did for a living? And if it didn’t go well...then his secret was out, and his privacy along with it.
He needed Domino to survive onstage, because Dominic Bradley sure as shit couldn’t be a rock god.
“Eh, I’ll figure it out.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or the rest of the band, but it really didn’t matter. Right now, there were songs to play.
Tomorrow night, there was a dinner to eat and Adrian’s promise to use those leather cuffs on him. If that night went like the last—it would be fucking spectacular.
He’d worry about what to do with Domino if he and Adrian kept seeing each other. Until then, it didn’t really matter.
* * *
During their afternoon break in practice, Dom bit the bullet and texted Adrian, his heart in his throat.
You still interested in dinner tomorrow?
He didn’t actually know which answer he preferred. Sex on Wednesday had been something else, beyond every expectation, and it had rattled him to the core. Adrian was wicked and wonderful and kind and...everything Dom wanted. The promise of those cuffs lit every bit of his insides, but there was still the question in his head of where the hell this was going. Because what Dom wanted and what was the best for the band were two different things.
He’d left the studio, despite the heat, a long-sleeve button-down covering up all his tats. That was a downside to wearing nothing but pants onstage—everyone knew Domino’s tattoos. And since they were also his, Dom hid them when he went out as himself. During a hot summer in New York? Sometimes that decision was a little brutal. But there was a breeze today, and he’d found a shady spot to sit and eat along the Highline, lost in a sea of people.
It was a good fifteen minutes before a reply came. Of course I’m still interested, Dominic. Dare I hope you are, too?
Dom stared at the text, and he could almost hear Adrian’s soft, deep voice speaking those words, including the caress around Dom’s full name.
Yeah. Yes. He was gonna do this. Sure. Just need to know where and when.
The reply came a little quicker this time. I took the liberty of making reservations at Glass Garden for 7 PM. It’s a newer place in the Financial District. Not casual, but the food is exquisite and I think you’ll enjoy it.
Dominic knew the restaurant. He’d been there with the band recently, but as Domino. And yes, it wasn’t casual at all, but of course he’d gotten away with what passed as formalwear for Domino Grinder.
It had actually taken quite a bit of self-restraint to play it cool every time the staff referred to him as Mr. Grinder. He swore they were doing it on purpose.
“I should have picked a better stage name,” he’d murmured to Ray.
“I think it’s perfect.” Ray’s smile had been large and full of teeth. It was so often lately. The melancholy and anxious version of Ray Van Zeller still appeared sometimes, but less and less often. No doubt due to the influences of Zavier.
Mish had patted him on the knee. “How’d you know Grindr would become a hookup app?”
Zavier chuckled. “Hell, Dom, Ray’s right. It is kind of perfect.”
Maybe it was—for Domino.
Dominic would rather be dating a built computer programmer with a huge library and hands that could put him on his knees. Still didn’t mean he should do that, though.
His phone buzzed. If you’d prefer somewhere else, I can change the reservation.
Dom blinked at the text and realized he hadn’t sent one in response to the last. No, that’s fine. I can dress appropriately, even. I’ve heard great things.
Domino wasn’t going to Glass Garden, Dominic was, and the staff would call him Mr. Bradley and be none the wiser to who they served. And he could be himself for once at a place like that.
Might I ask you to wear one of your bowties? I do like seeing you in them.
That teased a smile from Dom’s lips and his mood brightened like sunlight breaking through clouds. Yes, of course.
Something colorful, like you.
Are you trying to sweet-talk me?
Is it working?
Maybe. Depends on what you want.
What I want is you on my cock. I’ll settle for holding your hand and watching your eyes roll back into your head as you eat.
Instant hard-on. Fuck. Maybe we can skip dinner.
No. Part of the pleasure is making you wait, Dominic.
Another text came, but this one wasn’t from Adrian, but from Ray. Yo. We’re ready to go again. Where the hell are you?
He blew out a breath and clicked over to Ray’s thread. Not far. Be right there. A swipe got him back to Adrian’s texts.
I gotta get back to practice. I’ll see you tomorrow. He sent the text, then typed up another quickly. I love it when you make me wait.
Because he did. There was something utterly mind-numbing when he was in Adrian’s hands and under his control.
Good. Until tomorrow, beautiful Dominic.
Heat to his face. And maybe it was still there by the time he got back to the studio, because Ray smirked, Zav had his know-it-all smile, and Mish patted him on the back. “You’d be a lot more comfortable in a tank, honey.”
And a lot more Domino with all that skin showing. He stripped off his shirt and got back to work. Felt good, too, the burn in his arms as the day wore on and in his legs as he hopped around the studio, unable to stand still. The songs Ray had written—fuck, they were good. Better than the last album, and with the rhythms Zav dropped and the energy Mish put into the baseline, the album was shaping up to be something spectacular.
Playing these onstage? Oh fuck, that would be a delight. The screams, the vibe, the thunder of sound. He fucking loved being Domino then. Dom twirled around, flourishing the cord he was playing.
“Hey, wait,” Ray said, breaking across Dom’s thought. “What did you do there? I loved that.”
Dom found his footing and caught his breath. The amp cord was lazily wrapped around him on the floor—thank god he always used one that was long, or he’d trip himself up. “You mean this?” He played the embellishment again.
Ray let out a soft sigh. “Yeah. That’s it. Can we roll back and do that section again, without me singing?”
They all nodded, and Zavier twirled his stick and tapped out the beats before they plunged in again. Ray stood riveted to the floor, eyes closed, breath steady as he listened. When Dom hit the cord again, Ray’s shoulders dropped and his smile deepened.
When Ray’s whiskey eyes opened again, he met Dom’s gaze, teeth flashed in a huge grin. “That’s utterly perfect. You’re amazing, Dom. Best guitarist ever.”
Dom laughed. “Man, there’s a ton of others ahead of me on that list!” Though he appreciated his best friend’s words.
Ray shrugged. “Not to me.”
Buoyed—and a little embarrassed—by the praise, Dom worked even harder at being Domino, the guitarist Ray and the band needed.
And it worked, too. They pounded out another song, adding to it, embellishing it, getting it into their blood. “Fuck, I can’t wait to play these live.”
Ray grinned, and there was this little edge to it, one that meant he was hiding something. Dom whipped his gaze to Zavier and raised an eyebrow.
Zavier laughed loud and long. “You might as well tell them, Ray.”
“So, I’ve been working with Marcella to put together a little something.”
Marcella Crane, their new manager and an attorney. One that had gotten them a stellar new contract. Dom crossed his arms. “Oh?”
“We do sound the best live,” Ray said. “I was thinking of taking the album—most of the songs, anyway—on a trial run here in New York. A small surprise concert. Limited seating. Popup kind of thing.”
Wow. Dom’s breath caught. A chance to play these live?
Mish voiced Dom’s next thought. “Before recording the album?”
Ray nodded. “Work out all the kinks, wouldn’t it?”
She laughed. “Honey, the only kinks here are the ones between you and Zav.”
And at that, Ray blushed to high heaven but laughed, too. Zavier just looked incredibly smug.
Dom’s heart tripped over, though. Because, in an instant, his mind was back on Adrian and his eyes, mouth, and words. And that tempting pair of leather cuffs.
“Are you okay, Dom?” Zavier peered over the kit at him.
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “Just thinking.”
Zavier studied him a little longer, until Ray rolled his shoulders. “We should probably take a break.”
Dom stripped off his guitar and set it on a stand, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed for the window. He was completely not surprised when Zavier ended up there, too, water bottle in hand. A glance told Dom that Zavier hadn’t finished his little game of mind-reading.
But Zavier didn’t say a word, just leaned against the wall by the window.
Dom turned his attention that way, too. “The show idea is fucking fantastic. These songs should be heard live.”
From the corner of his eyes, he caught Zavier shifting and drinking a gulp of water. “You should invite your gentleman friend.”
The thought of Adrian there, seeing him—Domino—onstage raked through Dom like knives. He whipped his gaze to Zavier. “How do you even know I’m gonna keep seeing him?”
“Because you’re happy. And because you have some lovely bruises on your back. Bites, I’m guessing.”
“Zav!” Dom pressed a hand to his forehead. “Why do you always point these things out?”
A chuckle. “Because you’re my friend. And because you’re not nearly as innocent as you act.”
Well, that was true. Still, the whole thought of Zavier noticing his bruises brought heat to his face. “I mean, there’s the stuff I do, sure. But I don’t need to talk about it.”
Zavier took a sip of his water. “So why not ask him?”
“Because he’s not into rock music.”
Zavier made a humph sound and turned his attention to the window. “And you’re Domino Grinder.”
“Fuck, I can’t tell him that, Zav!” Even the thought squeezed his heart and lungs. “Domino is—he’s not me.”
“Funny, I kind of thought it was you who worked out that wicked guitar rift just now.”
Dom winced. “You know what I mean.”
Zavier’s shoulders fell. “That’s the thing... I actually don’t.” He put his back to the wall. “I mean, there are a lot of things in this world I don’t understand. But this...bothers me. Because you’re happy with this Adrian of yours, more so than I’ve ever seen you before.”
Dom sighed and took a long drink of water. “You’re always you.”
“I assure you, that’s not true.” Zavier’s voice dropped. “We all hide things, Dom. Every single one of us, sometimes even from the people we most trust.”
“You and Ray...”
“Don’t hide anything from each other. Not anymore.”
“Did you ever?”
A humorless grunt. “Of course we did. You were there.”
Their last tour, where Ray and Zavier had danced around their feelings for so freaking long they’d driven Mish and Dom nuts.
Then Ray had almost died when their hellish former manager had tried to drug him to start rumors. Turned out Ray’d been so allergic to the roofie, he’d gone into anaphylaxis. Two days later, Zavier had asked Ray to marry him—probably out of fear of losing someone he cared for more than anything else in the world.
There’d been no great declaration of love, no fairytale wedding, just the absolute certainty that Ray and Zavier needed to be together forever.
Zavier laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Ray worries about you, too, you know. You’ve been off-kilter since the accident.”
They all had been. The case and publicity had been brutal. “He hasn’t said anything.” Dom gazed back across the studio to his best friend and Zavier’s husband.
“He will, in his own time.”
And it would likely be not nearly as forthright or as gentle as Zavier. Ray built things up. Held them in until, like his songs, they came pouring forth in loud, awesome glory. But sometimes you really didn’t want to be in the way of Ray Van Zeller and that.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His gaze snagged on Mish. “I’m actually kind of surprised Mish isn’t prying info out of me.”
Zavier laughed, and Ray glanced up, smiling. “Not yet.” He sauntered across the studio to join Ray. While they were never sappy, there was no doubting the connection between them, the love in Ray’s eyes or the fire in Zavier’s.
Dom joined the rest of the band, and Mish pointed her chin at Zavier. “He teasing you about your new man?”
His man. More the other way around. “Not really.”
“He should be. We want to meet him.”
“I’ve only gone out on one date!”
She laughed. “But that’s one more than any other guy you’ve fucked, honey. And I bet you already have another set, don’t you?”
He eyed his cell phone, which lay over on the table on the far side of the room. “Maybe.”
Mish ruffled his hair. “Tell me one thing that’s wonderful about this guy, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Fuck. There were so many things—and that realization left Dom blushing and hot. “He’s—he’s got this library in his attic that’s to die for.”
She clapped him on the back. “Sounds like your guy to me.”
He was. Adrian was every inch the kind of man Dominic Bradley could fall for. Just one problem...
His gaze landed on his guitar—on Domino Grinder’s guitar.
More and more, Dom wondered whose life he was really living, and whose life was the lie.
Ray cleared his throat. “I’m working on another song, but something’s not right. Wanna listen?”
Of course they all said yes, and that’s what they spent the rest of the afternoon and evening teasing apart.