Page 38 of Hollow Heart

And that’s why I’m doing this in the first place, right?

Felix shoots me an intrigued look as he roves his gaze over me. Almost as if he is sizing me up, or trying to decide if I’m just being a kiss-ass.

I wonder how much he actually knows about me, or my relationship with his manager.

“But this isn’t about me and myrevivalof my career. It’s about Felix, this tour, and the music.”

Lou nods, his grin looking too much like the Grinch when he’s plotting to steal all the Whoo Hash on Christmas Eve.

Something else is going on, but I know Lou will only give bits and pieces until he feels we need to know the full story. If I hadn’t worked so closely to him long ago, I would’ve found his look suspicious, but as such, I trust Lou.

So, I trust whatever he needs to use me for, however he needs to do it, it will definitely be beneficial for everyone.

“Of course. What else would it be about?” Felix counters with a shrug.

Lou snickers. “Excellent. I’ll confirm with my contact. I will arrange for transportation to pick you both up and take you to the studio. I’ll be in touch with those details.” He removes himself from my stool, slapping me on my cold, sweaty shoulder.

“Thanks, McKay,” he says quietly, and my nerves return the moment he leaves Felix and I alone once more.

Felix cocks his head, some stray blond strands of hair falling in his bright eyes, his pouty lips parted, as his gaze pins me to the wall.

“I take it you’re a XL?” he says, making me whiplash from the sudden change in topic.

“Huh?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Felix crosses his arms, still holding his water bottle. The motion draws attention to his sleeves of tattoos, but also shows off the lean muscles there, hidden beneath the ink.

Coupled with his hot pink shirt, his bright eyes, and his pouty lips, I can totally see why Bobby said all the girls in his school are head over heels for Felix Hart.

He has bad boy written all over him, but something tells me, underneath all the substances, he’s not as temperamental as he seems.

That the self-destructive Felix is a cover for something else. A coping mechanism, but for what I’m not sure.

“Your shirt size. I’m guessing you are a t least a XL. We’ll need to get you some... appropriate... attire. For the shows, and of course, tomorrow,” he says, finishing off the water.

“Oh, uh, actually I wear a 1X in shirts, because I like them a bit roomy. But I’ve got stuff.”

Felix twists his lips. “Uh huh,” he says as he makes a beeline toward me. He stops inches away from me, looking me up and down as he cocks his head to the side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he utters, his voice dropping an octave. The tone is smooth, velveteen almost, and makes my skin crawl with goosebumps.

I flash my gaze down to his lips, noting the shimmering silver lip ring he’s sporting today. Up close, I can smell the strong scent of his cologne and his natural musk, and I have to fight the groan that wants to escape my throat, or the instinct within me to grab him and throttle him against the wall.

The way he’s looking at me is challenging, almost as if he’s baiting me.

Like he wants to piss me off or something.

“You should take a break, old man. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack,” he says with a smirk as he nods to Lou in the other room.

“I’ll be back in an hour, then we can resume rehearsal, yeah?” he commands.

Lou grumbles something incoherent to my ears, which are ringing, and I swear I can hear my heartbeat, it’s that loud.

Felix grins back at me like a Cheshire cat. “See you later, Duncan,” he says with a grunt, his voice dark and full of torment.

Before I can answer him, he slips away, through the door, leaving me and my stiff cock alone, once more.

What the fuck did I just agree to?

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