Page 11 of Finally
“God no.” Jack snorted. “He has a really shrill voice and no artistic talent.” Now he was being needlessly mean. There was no call for that. Jack rolled his head from one side to the other, trying to stretch out the tension in his neck.
“Then why is he in a band?”
“He’s a business consultant.” Jack got plates out of the cabinet. “Who said he’s in a band?”
“You said you broke up with him because his band didn't have a name.”
“The Hague.”
Jack flipped around at the sound of Gray’s whiskey-soaked voice.
“What?”
“My band name's the Hague. Came up with it in 10th grade when we were memorizing countries and capitals. Sounded cool,” Gray said as he walked over to Jack. He glanced at the phone on the counter. “Hi, Kev.”
“Is that Gray?” Kevin asked.
“Nice name choice.” Jack grinned at Gray.
“What’s yours?” Gray stepped closer to Jack and rubbed his hands over his upper arms and shoulders.
“Abnormal End. It was an error message from one of the first IBM mainframes.”
His eyes gazing into Jack’s, Gray pressed his fingers into Jack’s nape, massaging the tense muscle. “I like it. Very clever and very you.”
“I have no idea what the two of you are talking about. Neither of you has ever been in a band.”
“It’s a name for a theoretical band,” Jack explained, leaning back into Gray’s strong hands. “Just in case.”
“Just in case of what? That you trip and fall into a musical career?”
“This is why we could never date, Kev,” Gray said, focusing his efforts on the spot where Jack’s neck and head connected, and where he carried the most tension.
“Yes. The imaginary band name is our biggest hindrance to a shared happily ever after.”
“Do you want to eat in here or in front of the TV?” Gray asked, eyes focused on Jack’s face.
“Let’s eat at the table. I want to hear what the new production company client means for you. We can watch our show later.”
“Only you two would be having dinner this late. I’ve already finished my skincare routine and I’m heading to bed to read and sleep so I have energy for my morning run tomorrow.”
“We’re night owls,” Jack said.
“That’s right.” Gray gently trailed his fingertips through the sides of Jack’s hair. “Between that and us both knowing the importance of being prepared with a band name, we’re the perfect match.”
Although his neck heated in reaction to Gray’s flirting, Jack couldn’t hold back his smile. His brain knew not to take thewords personally and turn them into something serious—Gray was notoriously effusive with his words and his touch—but Jack’s heart soaked up the attention and his body tightened at the prospect of being wanted.
“The steak’s better warm so we need to get going, Kev. Enjoy your book.”
“No worries. Jack, I’ll call you in the morning. I may have someone to set you up with.”
Gray shifted his gaze to the phone. “I’m making him breakfast tomorrow morning, so he’ll be busy.”
“You’re spending the night there?” Kevin asked.
At the same time, Jack said, “Dutch babies?”
“Yes,” Gray’s response worked for both questions.
