Page 109 of Red Hot Harmony

An awkward pause ensued. Now that we weren’t in the immediate danger, the rift between us became somewhat apparent again.

I wanted to be snarky, but all that came out was, “Thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime,” he rasped out. His throat worked as he swallowed thickly.

“I’m still upset about—”

“I know.” He didn't let me finish. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you if you allow me.”

“You probably already have.”

Our voices turned into soft, intimate whispers.

I attempted to explain, “I just can’t switch it off and on.”

“I understand. Will you at least let me be there for you and Ally while you’re trying to figure it out?”

“Yes.”

Dante leaned forward, and his hand slipped around me to cup the nape of my neck. He kissed my forehead, his lips warm and soft and familiar on my skin. “Let me put on a shirt so we can go eat.”

In the dining room, the table had already been set and my taste buds screamed with excitement at the sight of the dishes.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I told our hosts as we took our seats across from them.

“It’s not a big deal,” Cassy said.

“We don’t get to do double dates very often,” Frank supplied with a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know if this can be considered a date at all, Frankie-boy,” Dante contended. “If I’m wearing your pants from American Eagle.”

Everyone laughed.

Including me.

“Okay, dig in.” Cassy gestured at the food, her engagement ring glistening under the stream of overhead lights. “And I saved Ally a plate for when she wakes up.”

We ate in silence at first, but once our initial hunger was sated, Dante and Frank delved into a lengthy conversation about a healthy lifestyle, which eventually turned into a talk about music, and soon, I wasn’t following anymore, because I was lost in the terminology and the string of inside jokes.

“Don’t mind them,” Cassy whispered at me from across the table, rolling her eyes. “Musicians.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Even I sometimes don’t understand that language, and I’ve been in the music business since I was a teenager.”

“You run a magazine, right?” I tried to remember the little bit I’d read online about her and Frank during my stalking session of all things Dante.

“I co-ownRewired, but I kinda had to take a step back from being in front of the camera.” She tilted her head toward Frank, who was now on the opposite side of the room, showing something on one of the shelves to Dante.

“Conflict of interest?” I asked.

“Sort of.” Cassy pushed her plate to the side. “You can’t really write album reviews or objective articles if the person you’re about to marry is the main topic of those reviews and articles.”

“I see. That makes sense.”

“I still own half and have a say in what gets published, but Levi—he’s my friend—is the face of the magazine now.”

“Do you do anything else?”

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