Page 13 of Sycopation
But he wouldn’t have changed anything at all. This wasn’t the symphony, but it was so much closer to a space Zavier might call home. His mind swam with rhythm and his vision with Ray swaying to his music.
Zavier downed another bottle of water and approached Carl. “So why only three days in the studio when you knew there were two months before the tour?”
To Zavier’s left, Ray lifted his head. His back was to both Zavier and Carl.
Carl frowned, but that hid something—fear? Anger? Zavier couldn’t tell. “The songs aren’tthatcomplicated.”
Yes, they were. Zavier didn’t say anything, just stared at Carl. Ray turned slightly, his torso corded with tension.
Finally, Zavier murmured, “You didn’t think they’d find a drummer.”
Carl lost color. Bingo. Zavier being here, the label signing him, that had thrown things into disarray for Carl. Zavier snorted and turned away.
Maybe Carl thought Zavier could learn the songs in three days, which was possible. He knew the music. But knowing and playing it with the rest of the band were two entirely different situations. They needed to learn to play witheach other, and that took time.
Zavier clasped Ray on the shoulder. “You’re getting your wish.”
Those whiskey-colored eyes were wide and his breath as smoky as the drink. “Lucky me.” Heat there. A touch of ire, too.
Catnip to his lust. Zavier dropped his hand. Working with Ray wasdangerous.
Carl cleared his throat. “Better get your bags from the hotel, Demos. You’ll be joining them in the house.”
Zavier’d figured that. There’d been an itemized receipt for checkout slipped under his door in the middle of the previous night. “They’re in my rental.” He kept watching Ray, since the view was better.
Ray rolled his eyes and muttered, “Mr. Perfect.”
Was that how Ray thought of him? “Not so much.”
That only earned him a snort before Ray turned away. “Let’s pack up for the night.” He rounded and faced Carl. “How early can we get in here tomorrow?”
“Eight a.m.”
“Then we’ll be here. On time. All of us.”
Carl snatched up his phone. “Good to see you finally taking this seriously.” With that, he was out of the door once again.
Ray clenched and unclenched his hands, until Mish came over and rubbed his back. “Don’t let him get to you, hon. We did good work today.”
Some of the tension eased from those shoulders. “Yeah, we did.” Once more Zavier found Ray focusing on him. “How do you feel about it?”
Horny and turned on, like he did after any stellar performance. But that wasn’t anything he’d say out loud. “Good. Very good. You guys are great to work with and the songs are—” he whistled “—better live than anything else.”
The rest of the stress fell off Ray. “You mean that?”
“Every word.”
A small smile played over shy Dom’s lips. “See?”
Ray shook his head. “Let’s get back to the house.”
Zavier followed the band down to the parking lot, then tailed the hired car back to a house in the hills. Gated, and yes, it had a big enough garage to play in.
He set his bags down on the bed in the last unoccupied room—the one right next to Ray’s. For a moment, he considered that lithe body and sighed.
Off limits. Completely. He didn’t want to wind up as gossip for Nadia, after all. Even if he did wonder whether he could make Ray scream.
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