Page 73 of Synced to Us

This is what I’ve come to.

I sense more than see Wyn’s lingering study and close my eyes when he strokes his finger across my cheek.

As if sensing my internal melancholy, Wyn shifts closer.

“Can I just say,” Wyn murmurs, his lips brushing against my nape as he leans in close. “I’m going to enjoy the hell out of the fact you’ll be smelling like me all damned night.”

27

Wyn

When our car pulls up to the Bowery Hotel, my head’s back in music-land and Dee has to prod me out of my stupor.

I was running late when Dee arrived to pick me up, falling so deep into my music, time stood still. McKenna and Mason’s date night exit didn’t register, and suddenly it was twenty minutes until Dee was due to arrive.

I flew around the apartment like a hurricane, thanking the goddess McKenna for dry cleaning my old Impress-The-Label suit. The music consumed me to such a level, I dressed on pure instinct, my head still in the charts.

But I think I got it.

I have the perfect song.

“We’re here,” Dee says, as if we’re not staring out the window directly at the hotel. What must she think of me, so hot with her one minute, and then escaping into my head the next?

Maybe the real question is: What does it matter as long as I act like the perfect fiancé and hold up my end of the bargain? That’s probably what’s going on in her mind.

Dee’s too fast exiting the car for me to help her, so I meet her on the sidewalk. She strides up to me, her dress flowing behind her as if she’s weightless and about to take flight. I’m reminded of why I had the inescapable urge to jump her as soon as I saw her, because I’m about to do it again.

Her assessing gaze lands on mine and I prevent a sheepish grin just in time. Dee Sparrow’s too smart not to have seen my intentions.

I offer her my hand like the gentleman I should be. “Shall we?”

She nods, tucking her slim arm in mine. There’s a tug under my ribs as we head into the ballroom as a familiar pair.

I’m no stranger to the Bowery. Nocturne Court’s label often hosted parties, benefits, and basically anything showcasing their acquired musicians. Whatever it took to make more cash. If I squint hard enough, I can picture my former manager, Spinner, gabbing in the corner with any higher-up he’d find and schmoozing with the directors to try and get prioritized marketing campaign packages for his artists. It was about then I figured out it wasn’t about the music so much as social media footprints, trending hashtags, follows, and streaming numbers. All those digital thumbs-up predict how much cash a label is willing to back you with.

These days, it’s not so hard to understand why Rex and East left when they did.

And yet…I want all of it back.

I look down at Dee, her shrewd scan of the entire ballroom completed in five seconds flat. I have the feeling she’s catalogued every face, each threat, and all safe zones before we step into the well-dressed crowd.

Clients and coworkers descend on her in a flash, and I’m transformed into her fiancé before I even have a stiff drink in my hand. Dee grows stiff on my arm as questions fly and congratulations are given on our engagement. She says all the right things and entertains like she’s done this her entire life.

Except, this isn’t her.

The smile isn’t right, for one. And her eyes are dulled, that molten spark in her cinder brown sputtered out. She catches my study more than once, a subtle line forming between her brows, but I give an assuring dip of my chin and go back to being the man she wants me to be before she can figure out what I’m thinking.

“Dee! So lovely to see you, my dear.” A round, small, balding man approaches Dee with his arms spread, straining the buttons at his chest. He drags along a tall, very young brunette in a tight pink dress with a slit up the entirety of her leg. He’s pulling her along so fast, she has to constantly adjust her hem before she accidentally shows her cooch.

Dee’s arm becomes hard around mine, her muscles tensing to the point that it draws my focus. I scan her face, noticing the strain around her mouth and the shadows over her eyes as she stills and waits for this guy’s approach.

He comes near, and Dee relaxes into my side like she’s been that way the entire time and her edginess never happened. She stoops down to accept his kiss on her cheek like she’s been doing it all her life. It’s with such fluid expertise, I’m confident I’m losing my mind and never saw or felt the anxiety ripple through her body seconds earlier.

“Larry,” she says smoothly, “I’d like you to meet Wyn. My—”

“Lucky, lucky man,” Larry bellows and shakes my hand just as vehemently. He may be two sizes smaller than me, but the guy manages to jerk me off balance. “Dee is a special gal at this firm. I have to say, I was delighted to hear of your impending nuptials. Did you know we just acquired your label as a client, young man?”

“A little birdie might have told me.” I wink at Dee as if we’re sharing our little secret, and I’m confident she vomited a little in her mouth at my quip. I put my attention back on Larry, trying to keep a straight face.

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