Page 75 of Counterpoint
Mish sighed. “You boys and the secrets you think you’re keeping.”
Zavier laughed and helped Ray up.
Dom didn’t bother with changing into Domino’s clothes. Didn’t need to, actually. He picked up his guitar and within fifteen minutes was lost in the throes of one of their new songs. Here, with the band, in the studio, he could be that blend of Domino and Dominic he longed to be everywhere.
But the terror still haunted in his mind, even if he knew much of it was unfounded.
During their next break, he texted Adrian. Dinner Friday?
Of course! Would you mind a night out on the town?
Chance to see you in a suit and for you to embarrass me? Never.
He could almost hear the laughter in Adrian’s reply.Babe, I live for those moments.
So did he. This Friday, then. He’d tell Adrian this Friday, because Ray and Zavier were right. He needed to tell Adrian. Needed to trust. Then they could go have dinner and share dessert and maybe the future, too.Looking forward to it.
After practice, he slipped into Domino, makeup and all, and strode out of the studio. Tonight they had a radio interview, then a dinner in the city. Time to see and be seen.
* * *
On Thursday at the gym, Jackson made a quip about the bruise on Adrian’s shoulder. It was pretty damn obvious. A result of a rather passionate but quick encounter with Dominic the previous evening.
“You’ve got yourself a biter.”
Yes, he did. Not always, but Dominic had practically climbed his body as soon as he’d walked into Adrian’s house.
He turned his back and showed Jackson the scratches there, then threw a grin over his shoulder.
His friend laughed. “Oh man, Adi, I haven’t seen you looking like that in ages.”
Not since he and Jackson had last fucked—and that had been quite a while. “He’s quite something,” Adrian said.
That got him a nod. “Don’t let it go to your head, but this relationship shit looks good on you.”
Adrian snorted and pulled on a tank top, covering up his back.
“I’m serious, man. This is the happiest I’ve seen you.” No quips, no sly grin. No, this was Jackson being honest.
Heat raced to Adrian’s cheeks. “Thanks. I—yeah, it’s been real good.”
Heartbreakingly good. Sensual, loving, hot, too. Last night, Dominic had shown up unexpectedly on his porch, freshly showered but so full of energy and need he’d practically burst through the door and into Adrian’s arms. They hadn’t even made it up to the bedroom—clothes had come off in the hallway, been scattered everywhere, and they’d bitten and scrabbled at each other until he’d lifted and carried the moaning, begging Dominic into the living room and fucked him hard and fast on the rug in front of the couch. Dominic had clawed and scratched and urged him on.
It had been fast, messy, and perfect.
“Is he the one?” There was something in Jackson’s voice that Adrian, in all the years they’d been friends, hadn’t heard before. It was both warm and sad.
He hip-checked Jackson, wanting the sadness to vanish and not wanting to answer his question. “Come on, Jack. Do your worst with me this morning.”
Jackson chuckled. “Fine, Irish boy. Let’s go run.”
And they did, at a pace that was just a tad too fast to be comfortable for Adrian, as if Jackson was punishing him for not replying. When they finished, he was winded, and even Jackson looked a little tired.
Miracle of miracles. Adrian piled his hands on top of his head as they walked some cool-down laps. “I don’t believe that there’s one singular person who is an utter match or soul mate or whatever.”
Jackson glanced at him. “That’s cold.”
Adrian lowered his arms, his breathing ticking down closer to normal. “Is it? I mean, under that theory, if you miss your chance, then you’re shit out of luck.”
