Page 131 of Salacious Park Avenue Prince

Which was good to hear, because I didn’t plan to stop kissing Travis McKinney anytime soon. Or ever.

FORTY

travis

Six weeks later

“FOR ONCE I’VE got you on a red carpet instead of behind it,” I said by Caleb’s ear as several photographers behind the velvet rope snapped their shots of us and the other attendees heading into Ledger Gallery.

Tonight was a huge deal. Caleb had been selected as a featured artist, with a whole collection of his photographs being exhibited. I, for one, couldn’t wait to see his work, since a) I knew he only took gorgeous pictures, and b) he’d been keeping the collection a secret.

Beside me, Caleb shifted uncomfortably, no doubt wishing he was back in jeans and a slouchy beanie instead of the suit Vera had encouraged him to wear. I’d stayed out of that discussion. If Caleb wanted fashion advice, he’d come to me for it, not the other way around.

Although seeing him rock a sexy see-through pantsuit would’ve been hot as fuck.

“This may be where you thrive,” he said, “but I’m ready to cross back over to the other side.”

“Not tonight you don’t. You’re the featured artist. So smile or smolder for the cameras, please.”

He cracked a grin at that and glanced at me. I’d been working the line, eye-fucking the cameras, but one look at him and I forgot they were even there.

Not the smartest thing on a step-and-repeat.

“All right, all right, keep moving, ya lovebirds,” West said from behind us as he shooed us away to take our spot with JT, who mouthed,Sorry,in our direction.

I could feel the relief coming off Caleb at just the mention of being done, and I chuckled, resting my hand on his lower back to lead him off the red carpet.

“Better?” I said as we stepped inside the gallery, where a huge crowd was already milling about.

Caleb stopped walking suddenly and pivoted to face me. “Oh shit.”

I knew that look. Like he’d moved from one horror to another.

“You just realized people are gonna look at your work now,” I said.

He nodded, and I held my hand out for him to take if he wanted it. No pressure. We were out to our friends and family, but I left it up to him how much PDA he wanted to show around others.

But Caleb didn’t hesitate, taking my hand and linking our fingers, then giving me a grateful squeeze.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he said.

“Me either. I’ve stalked your stuff for years, and trust me, it’s light-years better than whatever that is.” I wrinkled my nose at the abstract painting on the wall.

Caleb’s lips curved. “Thank you.”

“What? I’m being serious. That’s”—I leaned in a little closer to read the tiny price tag at the bottom then spun back to face him—“waaay overpriced.”

Caleb chuckled and put a finger to my lips. “Shh—you never know where the artist might be.”

I nipped at the pad of his finger and grinned. “I’m just saying, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Now where’s your adoring fan club?”

“If by that you mean our parents…” Caleb scanned the crowd, looking at the guests milling around the different artwork, some hanging from the walls and several different vases set on podiums, which seemed like a risky idea, considering it was an open bar. “Ugh, over there, with some of the other parents. Geez, what’d they do, send out a bulletin toeveryElysium member?”

“Probably. They want to show you off. They’re proud of you. Plus, they know who has extra cash to spend.”

The color drained a little from Caleb’s face, so when a waiter walked by with a tray of fancy cocktails, I snagged a couple and handed one over.

He sniffed it and quickly shook his head. “Uh uh, no way am I drinking that. It practically singed my nostrils.”

---