Page 89 of Partnering with the Artist

It’s…verymuch. Quite much, actually.

There’s just alotgoing on.

Kyran mutters, “Viktor, how bad for image would it be if I gosit in the car?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You could tell people I’m not feeling well if they ask. Say I ate some bad caviar.”

Ew, fish babies. Crisis would riot.

My limited interactions with her have led me to conclude that she loves fish more than she loves her fiance, Viktor. Like. It’s a good thing fish don’t drown, because if her pufferfish and her fianceweredrowning, she would save Potato.

Isthere caviar here? I’ve never been in a place where trying caviar was an option. That’s so swank.

“Brothers!” the cheer booms beneath the ruckus—or possibly over top of it—and I turn to findLukas Bachelor—known to most fans asKing—striding toward us, arms open, dual-colored eyes wild. Laughing, he pulls Viktor into a hug against his displayed eight pack, and…

I think I’m going blind again.

Zakery wasn’t kidding when he said his family had the eight pack genetics.

I guess my brief glimpses of Lukas in music videos, wearing his iconic long, open trench coats did not prepare me for the sight in person. Wow. Just…Wow.

Zakery covers my eyes. “Knock that off.”

I pull down his hand. “Did you do his tattoos?”

Pouting, Zakery murmurs, “Yes.”

They’re fire and phoenixes across his chest, a dragon tail wrapped around his waist. They are more things I never gave a second thought to whenever I’ve seen them in music videos. Pop stars have tattoos. It’s not a big deal. But knowing where they came from…knowing the person who not only did but also designed them…that makes a world of difference.

They’re not blending into Lukas’s branding anymore.

He’s more than a celebrity now.

He’s a real person, with connection tome.

Tossing his long mane of dark hair, Lukas musses Kyran’s locks and says, “Hey, squirt. Did you get taller?”

Taller. Yet another thing the music videos never prepared me for.

Lukas istall. Egregiously so. All the Bachelor brothers are, of course, but Lukas? Lukas is standing over half a foot higher than everyone around me, and I don’t think it’s all in the knee-high boots he’s wearing.

His multicolored eyes hit me, and I straighten when a predatory gleam pours through them. One black iris. One so pale it’s practically white. In person, it’sterrifying. Otherworldly. Supernatural. Befitting of his alluring melodies. “Who’s this?” he asks, and I tuck myself behind Zakery, knowing his slender form is not going to do a thing to hide me in this dress. It’s got over ten layers of tulle. Because I saidfluffyand lost my mind.

“This,” Zakery says, tone biting as he holds hisin publicsmile, “is the woman I plan to marry. Possibly tonight. If you’re able, I’d like you to be there.”

“You’regetting married?” Lukas whistles. “I’ve not been gonethatlong, have I?”

“Not long enough,” Kyran mutters, swatting Lukas’s hand out of his hair.

This does nothing but prompt Lukas to put Kyran in a headlock and noogie him, while letting loose a deep, reverberating laugh. “Don’t hurt my feelings, baby bro.”

“Lukas,” Viktor warns.

“Oop.” Lukas frees his youngest brother. “Sorry, sorry. I just miss you all so much. September can’t get here soon enough. I want to be back home, in the studio, recording,sleeping. I was up at four today.” He rubs his neck. “It’s brutal out here. I miss breakfasts that don’t happen in moving tour buses…”

Arms crossed, Kyran murmurs, “Month and a half left, thenyou can come home.”

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