Page 37 of Hollow Heart

I glance over at a surprisingly cool looking Felix, who is most certainlynotsweating buckets like I am. He stands off the side, setting his guitar down, his back to me.

My gaze falls on his sinuous curves, remembering exactly what they looked like all sweaty and lathered up with oil.

I try to force the thoughts from my mind, if only because I know it’s not professional, but also because the very thought of Felix in his Playgirl spread makes my cock throb.

Which is something I’m not entirely sure I want to unpack at all, given the circumstance of my employment, or the fact I barely know the guy, or the fact that I haven’t felt attracted to any man except Issax, and that I attributed to drugs, alcohol, and Marci.

“Something you want to say, McKay?” Felix’s voice hits my ears, snapping me out of my weird daydream.

“Uh... not really.” The heat is too much to bear. I remove my shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from my face as Felix curses under his breath.

I find my breath as I use my shirt to pat the sweat off, finding Felix’s dilated pupils staring up at me, shirtless and dying of overexertion.

In contrast, Felix sports his signature hot pink shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black ripped jeans, tattoos on display, wispy blond hair all disheveled from his head-banging no doubt. I can’t argue that it’s a good look on him. The stark coloring mixed with his tattoos, his piercing blue eyes, and his silver lip ring are the icing on the cake.

The fact Felix doesn’t look high, and he doesn’t smell like vodka, tells me not only was he early to rehearsal, but he is likely sober, too, which I gather is probably not as normal an occurrence as it probably should be.

Before I can say anything, Lou enters the studio, pulling both of our attention.

“I have a proposition for you two,” Lou declares as he offers us both bottles of fresh, cold water. I nearly knock him over as I grab mine. Felix comes to stand next to me, and I can feel the heat pouring off of him as he swipes his bottle from Lou’s hands, chuckling and mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

Lou laughs as he takes a seat behind my drum set—or more accurately, Felix’s drum set—and focuses his steely gaze on the both of us. .

He might not look hot—well, temperature wise, anyway—but he can’t hide the scent of sweat and heat. Mixed with his pricey cologne, the scent makes my damn cock twitch, again.

What the hell is wrong with me today?

“Shoot,” Felix nips.

Lou leans back on my stool, twirling one of my drum sticks as he sets his gaze on me.

“Well, after your stint on the morning show, it seems folks are dying to hear more about this tour and it’s star-studded replacement.” Lou flashes a smirk.

Instantly, I feel flushed as he raises his eyebrow at me, because I know that look far too well.

“Uh huh.” Felix gives Lou a skeptical look between loud gulps.

I break Lou’s gaze for only a moment as I watch Felix’s Adam’s apple bob with his loud, thirst-quenching sounds, sidling away from him, my hands holding my shirt strategically in front of my unruly cock.

Now is certainly not the time!

“So I was thinking...” Lou pauses, perhaps for dramatic effect. “A late night stint on Romano’s show, say tomorrow night? The both of you? Felix can dish about the tour, and Duncan you can dish aboutHollow Pointeand yourrevivalof a career?”

My blood chills, which given my heated state, is no small feat.

Ihateinterviews. I’ve never been good at them, and for the most part, Isaax took all of the credit for those when we were in the band. Every now and then, I’d get to say something—usually something to help build up the star of the show—but no one ever really cared about what I had to say.

Aside fromHollow Pointe, I’d barely scratched the surface with doing press when I was working on my solo album, but since the initial reaction didn’t seem to pick up the way Lou and the record company wanted it to, all that fell to the wayside, and not long afterHollow Pointedisbanded, anyway.

But despite my ill-fated confidence in doing press, I know how important it is to get ahead of a story.

I lean against the wall, my gaze settling on the tall, lean, rockstar feigning nonchalance as he shrugs.

“Tomorrow night, huh? Seems a little impromptu even for you, Lou.” Felix sucks down another gulp of water.

Lou grins. “Let’s just say I know someone in need of a favor.”

“I’ll do it,” I utter, stuffing down my concerns, if only because I know the more attention we can bring the tour, the more successful it will be, and the better press we can build around this thing, the more money we all make.

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