Page 67 of Reverb
“I didn’t. This was Adrian’s doing.”
Adrian shrugged. “Despite Zavier’s teasing, thiswasplanned. I enjoy fine dining, so I took the liberty of researching places and made a reservation once the tour was finalized.”
Adrian was a food nerd? Who’d have thought? “So not just breezing in.”
“Oh, we’ve done that.” Mish took his hand and laced her fingers between his. “But after a few food misses, as Adrian likes to call them, he took over planning.”
Domino was almost too quiet during this whole exchange. He noticed David watching. “Adrian knows what he’s doing when it comes to restaurants.”
“And this place haspie,” Adrian said.
For a moment, the rock star was gone. “Oh,” Dom said. “Damn.”
David glanced away. Adrian’s return smile was too personal, too private.
“Yeah,” Mish murmured. “They can be a bit much.”
“I’ll say.” Marcella poked his shoulder. “Don’t you two start in like that, please.”
They didn’t, though they did hold hands while ordering, until food and drinks appeared at the table. Most of the group split two bottles of wine, but neither he nor Ray had any of that. Ray didn’t drink much and, though he wasn’t on duty, David wanted to remain sharp, just in case.
There was much eating, talking, and laughing. Random stories were told, some of the early band days. Zavier told one about traveling with the symphony he’d played with years ago.
When the conversation wove around to David, he held up a hand. “I was in the army. Those stories aren’t funny, or good dinner conversation.”
But eventually, they pried a work one out of him. “So, I was working as a bouncer for this club that did concerts—little ones. Small acts, not like you guys now.”
Ray nodded. “I remember those kinds of clubs.”
“Well, this was supposed to be an easy night. Not thrash. Not metal. Not rap. Folk music, they said.”
“Oh no.” Zavier hid his smile behind a sip of wine. “Famous last words.”
“Right? Turns out it was an Irish folk band with a rock edge.”
Adrian choked on his drink. “Oh, you poor thing,” he sputtered.
Dominic nudged him. “Some of those bands are really good.”
“Babe, Iknow.” He set his wine down. “Bet it wasn’t the band that was an issue.”
“Exactly right.” David took a sip of water. “The crowd waschaosincarnate. Masses of bodies. People singing and dancing, then getting mad when they crashed into others. Worse than a mosh pit, ’cause when you mosh, you expect to be hit, you know?” He shook his head. “Hardest concert I ever bounced, I swear. We had to call an ambulance when someone accidentally elbowed a woman in the head and knocked her out. Adrian’s right. The band was very nice. Treated all of us well and the concert was a good one.”
“So we must be a cake walk,” Mish said. Her fingers brushed his thigh.
Except for the stalker and the guy who’d stolen Mish’s ring, sure. David didn’t say that. “Well, less bruises in the line of duty, for sure.”
Mish leaned in and whispered into his ear, low so no one else heard. “And when you’re not on duty?”
Oh yeah, he had some bruises from the other night. He smiled back at her, their faces close enough to kiss. “Marcella told us to behave.”
The table turned into a round of laughter at that, and lo and behold, there was a touch of pink in Mish’s cheeks, but both her voice and her eyes sparkled.
Dessert was anexperience. That turned into one big round of sharing everything the restaurant had on the menu. David noticed that despite the plate in front of him, everything Domino tasted came off Adrian’s fork. Another intimate glimpse that made him focus on other things.
He looked up from his own plate, now covered in chocolate sauce, to find Zavier watching him. A smile graced the drummer’s lips. He nodded, and that was all.
He didn’t understand that look—but the moment seemed important, an approval of sorts. He set it aside for later. Right now, he’d focus on the food and the fun, and the beautiful woman sliding her hand over his thigh.
