Counterpoint

by Anna Zabo

  The pause was much shorter this time. “Babe, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you play. That trip to the Met and that one night you played for me only made it worse.”

  God, he’d loved playing that Renaissance guitar. The timbre and sound. He huffed out a laugh. “I hardly played anything at the Met or at your place.”

  “But you played, and it was lovely and I’m selfish and want more. I want as much of you as you’re willing to give me.”

  Dom shivered. Everything. He wanted Adrian to know everything. “Okay. How about tomorrow? We usually go from midafternoon into the evening, so you could come by after work—and I’ll introduce you.”

  “I—Yes. I’d love that. Say between five-thirty and six?” Joy in Adrian’s voice. Excitement.

  “Yeah.” Dom rattled off the address. “I’ll leave a note at the front desk. You should be able to come up to the floor we’re on, then.”

  “Thank you.” A purr of words that made Dom shiver and slide a hand down his belly, and stop at the waistband of his boxers.

  He should have been in bed, but that was empty and lonely and he never slept well there. He often slept on the couch in his living room. He could pretend he was on tour and fall asleep. Sometimes. “I miss you.”

  Adrian grunted. “I do, too. I think the space is good, though. I read the article. Listened to your songs. Watched videos. I don’t think you’d have liked me doing that with you around.”

  Definitely not. Dom loved hearing Twisted Wishes songs when he was out, and it was even better if people were nodding or singing along, but to sit there and listen when Adrian heard those songs for the first time? When he decided whether he liked them? No.

  Still, he had to know. “What did you think?”

  “They’re really interesting.” The way he said those words, though—there was honesty there. Like Adrian actually found the songs thought-provoking or something. “I need to listen to more. You guys are amazing in concert.”

  Now, that Dom liked. “Good. Shit, I was afraid you’d think they were crap.”

  Adrian blew out a breath. “You know my friend Jackson from work?”

  “The personal trainer dude.”

  “He’s not really my trainer, but yes. Anyway, he knows music better than I do, and he recommended your songs. Said the lyrics especially would catch my attention.”

  “That’s because Ray’s fucking brilliant.”

  “But so are the rest of you. I’m listening for your guitar, Dominic.” There was a pause. “And I’ve been reading that magazine article and some of the interviews on the web. Each one might start as Ray’s notes and lyrics, but it takes all of you to make those into a song.”

  “Fuck, you have been reading! That’s like one of Ray’s sayings.”

  Laughter. “He sounds like a good guy.” Then a sigh. “But if you do want me to come to your practice tomorrow and meet everyone, I should go and get ready for bed. I have work in the morning.”

  “I’d rather talk to you all night.”

  “And I’d like to tie you up, make you beg for my cock, then drill you down into my mattress.” Adrian’s voice was wicked. “But we don’t always get what we want.”

  Hard in an instant, and painfully so. “Fuck, Adrian. That’s unfair!” He palmed himself through his boxers.

  A laugh that was dark and delicious. “Good night, Dominic. I adore you.”

  “You adore teasing me.” Dom slipped a hand under the waistband and stroked.

  “That, too.” Adrian’s voice dropped in volume and tone. “You’re already jacking off, aren’t you?”

  Dom groaned in response.

  “Mmm. There’s a sound I love. I’ll be thinking about that all night.” He whispered, “Good night, babe.”

  “I fucking love you.” Wasn’t exactly what Dom had planned to say. But he was hard and needy and he missed Adrian with all his soul.

  “I know. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Okay.”

  “Night,” Adrian whispered, then was gone.

  Dom slid his phone onto the coffee table, shoved his boxers down, and jacked off in earnest, wishing for Adrian’s touch and breath and words. His heat. Those cuffs.

  Should have taken it slow. Made it last. But there was too much heat and sadness and worry, so he came hard and fast, hating that he was alone, and so looking forward to tomorrow, when he wouldn’t be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Work on Monday was hellish for Adrian. Would have been anyway with more shit from Project Brada being dumped on him, and once more having to fix William’s mistakes in his own damn code. But the anticipation of experiencing the other part of Dominic’s life, of meeting the people that were for all intents and purposes Dominic’s family, had Adrian’s mind spinning in all directions.

  He really didn’t need William’s shit now. Not even the punishing workout Jackson had pushed him through that morning stole away Adrian’s annoyance that the day would not go any faster.

  And then Russ called Adrian into his office. Joy of fucking joys. He stopped two offices down to compose himself, because charging into the boss’s domain with a huge attitude would be about as helpful as trying to shove a punchcard into a USB port. Once he’d pushed down the annoyance to a level he could hide, Adrian strode forward and knocked on the doorframe.

  Russ looked up and nodded to the guest chair. “Close the door, too.”

  Well, shit. Adrian did as told and settled into the uncomfortable guest chair.

  There was a look from Russ that Adrian didn’t like. “We need to talk more about the problems with your work lately.”

  Adrian’s breath caught. “My work?”

  “There’s been an increase in nightly test failures on your projects, Adrian.”

  Yeah, well, there was a reason for that. But it wasn’t Adrian. “And if you look at the code check-ins, you’ll see that those aren’t caused by my coding, but someone else’s ‘refactoring.’” He even air-quoted the last word.

  Russ frowned at him. “Are you blaming William for your mistakes?”

  Adrian straightened in the chair and stared back at Russ until his boss actually flinched. “You know I’m not. I’ve always owned up when I’ve fucked up. I’m usually in here before anyone notices.”

  Russ looked down at his desk.

  “I’ve been working here for six years. I know my worth. I also know when I’m being set up.” Adrian paused. “If you want me out, for fuck’s sake, Russ, just tell me.”

  Russ met his gaze again. “It’s not that simple, Adrian.”

  Yes, it was. “Look, tell William I’m fine with cleaning up after him on Project Brada. But he needs to stay the fuck out of my code. Then you won’t have to yell at me about my work.”

  Russ pushed a hand through his hair. “You need to learn to be a team player, Adi.”

  Adrian’s spine went rigid. “Don’t call me that.” No one called him that but Jackson, and it was hard-won on both their parts. Mutual respect.

  “See?” Russ waved a hand.

  “It’s not a nickname I’m willing to give out freely.” Adrian kept his voice steady. “Please don’t use it.”

  “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Adrian closed his eyes briefly. “No, it’s not. You’re asking me to be a team player, not a friend or a lover. Hell, not even my boyfriend calls me that.”

  Russ shifted in his chair.

  “What the hell is going on, Russ?” Because something was out of sync. “Shit has been screwy since I came back from my trip.”

  Nothing, just more stares, but Russ was damn uncomfortable.

  Adrian sighed. “I’ll double-check the sections of code I’m responsible for before I leave each night. Clean up any mistakes.” He shrugged. “I can also build some automa
ted testing other folks on the team can use to help spot issues, if you think that would help.”

  Russ folded his hands and seemed relieved. “That’s acceptable.”

  This was the weirdest conversation he’d ever had. “Shall I get back to it, then?”

  Russ nodded, so Adrian rose and retreated to his cube, heart in his throat. Rather than IM Jackson via the company network, he texted him on his phone.

  Just had the weirdest conversation with Russ. WTF is going on here?

  Took some time, but a message came back: Easy. William is gunning for your job.

  Adrian sat back. Sure felt like it. But his job wasn’t any better than William’s. They were both senior programmers. It’s not like undercutting Adrian would get William anywhere, unless...

  Wait, am I up for promotion or some shit like that?

  Sometimes you’re denser than a brick.

  Adrian ran a hand through his hair. Well, shit.

  Beer after work?

  Any other day, yes. Can’t. Meeting my catnip and getting intro’d to his friends.

  Oh ho. Getting serious. You didn’t tell me this morning!

  He hadn’t. Mostly because he hadn’t wanted to let slip who Dominic was. Yeah, we are. Like you and your man. Apparently, Jackson had been at a family cookout with his jazz club boyfriend.

  Blow me, Adrian.

  Been there, done that.

  The next text was an emoji of a middle finger. Adrian chuckled and set his phone aside. After all, he’d promised Russ a test. And he did need to fix all this shitty code.

  * * *

  Somehow, Adrian managed to get the code fixed, the scripts written, and a happy little group email sent out on how to run it. He ran the unit tests on his products and sent the results to Russ, then was out the door and into the elevator when the clock ticked over to five-thirty.

  Getting to the address Dominic had given him was no issue whatsoever. Like many of the brick buildings in Chelsea near the water, it had been a warehouse before renovations. There was a pile of people milling around the entrance, and after a moment, Adrian spotted the Twisted Wishes T-shirts. Fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the band?

  It must have been normal, but it was also a glimpse behind the why of the fear that lurked in Dominic. He didn’t know if he could cope with people peering into his life all the damn time. Thankfully, he looked like a businessman and not like a rock star’s boyfriend, so he slid right through the crowd and into the lobby of the building without anyone even looking his way.

  He checked in with the front desk, and as promised, the guard knew he was coming and exactly where to send him. Adrian slapped the visitor label onto his suit jacket, and the guard led him to the elevator, activated the panel with his key card, and punched the fourth floor.

  The doors slid closed, and Adrian took one breath then another. God. This was it. The other side of Dominic. His friends. His colleagues. All the missing pieces.

  Would they even like him? Would he say something idiotic? He’d never met anyone’s family before.

  The car stopped and the doors opened. There was a faint but unmistakable sound of live music coming from down the hall. He followed the sound to a door that had been propped ever so slightly open. Through the glass panel, he spied a band. The band—Twisted Wishes. They were in the middle of playing and holy hell, there was Dominic right there, his fingers flying across the strings of a bright yellow electric guitar. Jeans. One of his button-downs, but with the sleeves rolled up. Head thrown back, huge smile. Dominic moved, grooving with the rhythm, his gaze shifting to their blond lead singer, and then across the studio until those eyes snagged on Adrian’s and widened.

  The notes went awry with a sound that had Adrian flinching and nearly running back down the corridor—this was Dominic’s domain and Adrian had just fucked it up—but Dominic’s eyes lit when they met his gaze.

  “Adrian!” His shout was brilliance and joy and spun Adrian’s heart around in his chest.

  Then everyone, all the other members of the band, were staring at him. Adrian swallowed and pushed the door open. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” Heat rose to his cheeks. Fuck, this was awkward.

  “Honey, we wouldn’t have left it open if we didn’t want you to interrupt.”

  He recognized Mish Sullivan, the Twisted Wishes bass player, instantly. Well, he recognized all the band members instantly. Adrian gave her a smile, then his gaze landed on Dominic again. He was grinning ear to ear, and that expression was infectious. Joy and light. Fucking hell. Lemons.

  There was a little thump on a drum. “So, Dom, this is your gentleman friend?” Deep voice. Black hair, and a really fucking knowing grin. That was Zavier Demos, and he looked even more familiar than he had in the photo spread. Sounded familiar, too. Damn. Adrian racked his brain.

  “Yeah,” Dominic said. “This is Adrian.”

  “Adrian Doran,” he said, introducing himself. “Hello.”

  Ray Van Zeller eyed him, his arms crossed. He still held a mic in one hand. “You’re wearing a suit.” Those words were almost accusatory. “Dom said you were a computer engineer.”

  “I am.” Then it hit him. “Oh! I work for a bank. There’s no such thing as business-casual, let alone jeans and T-shirts.”

  Ray uncrossed his arms. “Oh shit. That must be hell.”

  “Sometimes.” Like today.

  Dominic unslung his guitar and put it on a nearby stand. “Hey. Um. Can I have a moment before you all mob him?” He closed the distance between them. “Don’t mind them. They’re overprotective.”

  “So am I.” Adrian couldn’t help reaching out and cupping the side of Dominic’s face. Yup. Dominic was real and here. He leaned in for a quick kiss. Tasted good, too. “It’s not a bad trait for friends to have.”

  Behind Dominic, Ray swallowed a laugh. Heat touched Adrian’s cheeks.

  “Nah, he’s not making fun of you. He’s commenting on Zav and his behavior.” Dominic drew him over to a table with water and food debris and chairs.

  “I’m not overprotective at all,” Zavier murmured.

  “Oh, bullshit,” Ray said.

  “Boys...” That came with an exasperated sigh from Mish.

  Suddenly, the memory was there in Adrian’s mind. A brief glimpse of a younger version of the Twisted Wishes drummer and that sassy deep voice. There’d been a BDSM party years ago, during one of his visits home from California, and he was sure he’d seen Zavier there, only he’d been a student at the time.

  Adrian shrugged off his satchel, then took off his coat and tie, trying to figure out if he should even say anything. A touch redirected his attention to Dominic.

  “What’s wrong?” Soft words. “I know this isn’t your element, and they’re a bit much sometimes, but these are my friends. They’re safe.”

  And wasn’t it perfect that Dominic was looking after him? Making sure he was comfortable? Adrian laughed. “I’ve had a long day and I am off-kilter a bit.” He glanced over to where the rest of the band was milling, trying not to watch them or listen in. “But it’s not that. It’s that I’ve met Zavier Demos before. I just didn’t realize that until now.”

  “Wait, what?” He rotated toward Zavier. “You know Zav?”

  Zavier had come out from behind the kit, and his smile was a small, sly thing.

  Ray gave him a shove. “Wait, you know Dom’s dude?”

  Dom’s dude. Adrian rather liked the sound of that. He cleared his throat. “We don’t know each other. We crossed paths years ago, that’s all. But I remember faces.”

  “Janelle’s party,” Zavier said.

  Adrian nodded. “And you were that kid from Juilliard.”

  Zavier gave a little bow.

  Ray’s eyebrows arched. “So you’re into the same stuff as Zav?”

  “Will you boys just say B
DSM?” Mish set her bass down and strode to the table to snag a bottle of water. “Stop being so coy. There are parental warnings on our albums, and it’s not like I’m a petite and delicate fucking flower.”

  Adrian burst out laughing. Couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the stress or the relief or just seeing Dominic so...himself...but the laughter poured out until he thumped into one of the chairs and stared back at Mish. “I like you.”

  She grinned. “You’re gonna like us all by the time we’re done here.”

  Dominic had that sunny smile on, and he looked light as air with buoyancy and energy.

  “Hey, can I hear you play?” Adrian waved at the studio. “This time not while lurking outside a door?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Dominic looked over his shoulder. “Ray?”

  A nod from their lead singer. “I’ll even sing for your dude. Pick the song, Dom.”

  Tingles up Adrian’s arm. He cocked a finger and beckoned. “Dominic.” Like a magnet, he came, all breath and blush and perfect obedience. He framed Dominic’s neck with his hands, and pulled him down into a much longer kiss. He might be Dom’s dude, but the reverse was very much true, as well.

  “Go play for me,” he whispered against those sweet lips.

  Dominic straightened, looked a little dazed, then gave a laugh of his own. “All right.” He sauntered over to his guitar and swung it over his shoulder. “How about ‘Born in Fire’?”

  Ray nodded and the rest of the band got situated—and then Adrian was blown away by sound and movement and Dominic’s guitar. The lyrics were something else, too, as was Ray’s voice. Rhythmically, it was odd and wonderful. Mish played the perfect counterpoint to Dominic—but all Adrian could keep in his head was the way Dominic moved when he played and how absolutely free he looked. Adrian had seen a similar delight and joy in bed, but this was raw and wonderful and not erotic at all.

  His heart and mind leapt. Yes. This was Dominic, in his life, with his passion.

  Adrian doubted he’d ever be able to get enough of that, in bed or outside of it.

  When they finished, they all looked at him, and Dominic gave a little shrug. “I know you’re not really a fan.”