Page 50 of Counterpoint
Dom blew out a breath. He really wanted to rewind the day to his walks with Adrian, to those intimate moments that weren’t about sex. He’d learned so much and even shared what he’d felt comfortable giving. Couldn’t he even have one day to dwell on that? Turn it over in his head? Enjoy the thought of being Dominic before he was thrust back into Domino?
He rammed the drawer on his dresser closed, rattling the items on top. Photo frames. A bottle of cologne. Some anime figurines.
Get a grip. It’s not like you’ve been Domino at all this summer.True. Mostly they’d been practicing at the studio. And since the building housed other businesses, no one even gave him a second glance when he wandered in for practice. He walked right by fans in his button-downs, glasses, and bowties.
Today, he threw on a thicker white T-shirt to cover his tats, and a training jacket, pants, and a ball cap to match. It kinda looked like a uniform...and hopefully that would be enough to allow him to waltz up to Ray and Zav’s place and enter without anyone being the wiser.
There weren’t always fans there, of course, but they were there often enough.
Dom had a key to Ray and Zavier’s place, and Mish’s, just like they all had a key to his. They’d been through too much not to have each other’s backs, not to be family. Getting to Ray and Zav’s was tricky, but getting in without notice was harder. Thankfully, their place had a doorman who’d been given a heads-up about Dom as a friend of the Van Zeller-Demos household, so he often slipped in the front door. Most people thought he was some kind of employee. He’d even been asked if he could take notes in from fans.
He’d just kept his head down and mumbled something about losing his job if he did that, and they left him alone.
But someday, someone was gonna figure it out. Terror lurked behind that thought, ’cause he had no idea what he’d do on that day. None. Maybe hang up his guitar. Or never leave his house again. He didn’t have the strength or resolve the others had.
He slung the bag that contained Domino over his shoulder and headed out to catch a train into Manhattan again. They lived in the Upper East Side, in a spacious apartment. Both Ray and Zavier loved the pulse and beat of the city, and never seemed to mind the fans and photographers that sometimes trailed them.
Dom had opted for something a little less expensive, with a little more space and a little more anonymity. A house next to a bunch of others, not an expensive apartment in Manhattan.
Then again, thefanshad never been a problem. Not yet anyway.
Getting across town at rush hour? That was a problem. The trains were packed, but he managed. On the inevitable delay as they sat on the Manhattan Bridge, he stared out at the water, then caught the reflection of a businessman next to him.
Shit.
He hadn’t considered that. He and Adrian lived close enough together that they might end up on the same train at the same time at some point. And how would he explain where he was going? If he saidto practice, would Adrian want to tag along? He’d seemed honestly curious about Dom’s music, even if rock was totally not his thing.
Their musical paths did cross a little. Jazz. Classical. Some Spanish guitar schools. “I just like to listen,” Adrian had said. Dom had been lying in his arms listening to a compilation of 1940s jazz, and Adrian had trailed his fingers over the musical notes tattooed on the outside of Dom’s right arm. “I have no talent for playing, or even singing.”
Also no interest in current rock music. “I just can’t get into it,” he’d said. “Hard to find the soul.”
The dismissal hurt a bit. A lot. And he guessed Adrian had noticed that, because he’d shifted and turned Dom’s face so they looked each other in the eyes. “I’m sorry, that was heartless of me. The fault is likely mine. Sometimes I’m too set in my ways.”
“Maybe I can find something you’d like.”
Adrian had smiled and kissed him. They’d ended up making love on the couch, this time Dom topping Adrian because that, it turned out, was something Adrian wanted, as well.
“I like when you fuck me,” Adrian had said later. “It’s—”
“Sweet?”
That had gotten him a laugh. “No. It’s very much you.”
“And I’m not sweet?”
“Oh, you are, but you’re so much more as well, Dominic.”
The train jerked forward, and Dom gripped the poll to keep from tumbling into other passengers. Shit. Mind in the clouds. Or with Adrian, which was where he wanted to be.
Except Adrian was likely at work. They’d already set up to meet again on Friday—both their weeks were too busy for any evening meet-ups. Not with the way they tended to spend so much of it screwing each other. Or talking.
They needed more hours for both.
By the time Dom got to Ray and Zav’s, he was hot and sweaty and cranky beyond belief. Thankfully, there weren’t any fans or pap that he could see, so he made it into the building and past security with no issue, but he was still in a mood by the time he got into their apartment, and it obviously showed, because unflappable Zavier raised both eyebrows and backed away. “He’s all yours, Ray.”
“What?” Dom snapped.
“You’re, um. Not happy,” Ray said.
