by Evie Drae
He smelled so sinful Cinder couldn’t help the hum of satisfaction that worked up his throat when the scent drifted through the stagnant heat to settle over him like a welcome breeze.
Okay, so he had a crush on Ellis. A big one. It was both undeniable and entirely foreign. But… he liked it. A lot.
Almost as much as he liked Ellis.
“Hi.” The shy smile that tipped up the corner of Ellis’s sweet lips twisted Cinder’s insides even further, until he ached for Ellis in a way he’d never felt before.
Was this what it felt like to be in lust with someone? Or had Cinder managed to skip past that stage without even realizing it? Because nothing about his feelings for this big, muscly softie seemed to fit the bill for simple lust. That was there too, of course, but when was the last time Cinder had taken a conquest out for lunch when they hadn’t even warmed the sheets yet?
Hell, when was the last time Cinder had taken anyone to lunch who wasn’t Kumiko or Lizbeth? He vaguely remembered the winner of a contest early in his solo career who he’d spent the day with as their “prize,” but nothing else of note came to mind.
Yet here he was, about to take a man to lunch without any set plans for physical intimacy in the immediate future.
A self-satisfied grin stretched Cinder’s lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets to ensure he kept them to himself. He’d wanted to make some changes in his life, and this was nothing if not solid proof he’d started down the right path. He still had a long way to go, but maybe Ellis could be the one to see him through his transition from self-centered strumpet to content and committed boyfriend.
Invigorated by the direction of his thoughts, Cinder returned Ellis’s timid smile with a widening of his own Cheshire cat grin. “Hi right back atcha. Are you still in the mood for Mexican?”
Ellis nodded and straightened his back, causing the already snugly fitted fabric to stretch even tighter over the delectable muscles of his pecs, shoulders, and biceps. Cinder clenched his jaw to keep it from falling to the floor and gave himself a thorough mental lecture about the importance of not drooling down his chin on his first ever real date.
Cinder’s jaw went lax as realization washed over him. He was twenty-nine years old and about to go on his very first legitimate date.
No pressure or anything.
Clearing his throat, Cinder tried another smile, this one a bit less cock-sure but hopefully lacking any hints of his sudden shift in confidence. “You wanna grab a cab or hoof it? It’s hotter’n Hades, but Google Maps claims the restaurant is only a thirteen-minute walk, so if you’re feeling adventurous…”
Ellis laughed and gestured toward the crowded sidewalk. “I think I can handle thirteen minutes in the brutal heat without melting. Check with me again after I’m filled to the brim with tacos and beer. Might be a different story then.”
They fell into comfortable conversation as they sweated their way to the Cabo Wabo Cantina inside the Miracle Mile Shops at Planet Hollywood. After exchanging a few ideas, Cinder had landed on this touristy location—despite his initial plans to steer clear of such places—because he’d noted a shift in the way Ellis responded when the restaurant came up.
Sure enough, as Cinder held open the door so Ellis could duck into the cool haven of the Miracle Mile Shops, Ellis admitted the laid-back, beachy restaurant with the Día de Los Muertos vibe had been a personal favorite ever since it opened in 2009.
Giving himself a mental pat on the back for reading Ellis correctly, Cinder followed his nose to the delicious smelling, jam-packed restaurant, immediately grateful his security team had made a reservation.
The ever-present tail had been a part of his life since birth, so he rarely thought anything of it these days. Still, he’d asked Emmitt and AJ—his primary detail—to keep a discreet distance so as not to make Ellis uncomfortable or intrude on their time together. That meant arranging things in advance with the restaurant to ensure the boys had a place to hunker down that wasn’t up Cinder’s and Ellis’s backsides but still allowed them a clear line of sight to keep an eye on things.
As soon as the server sidled off with their orders, Cinder’s stomach did a cartwheel. It was time. He needed to get the truth on the table before any more passed between them. If he wanted Ellis to see the same possibilities Cinder did for their future, they had to start building trust, not tiptoeing over the broken eggshells placed there by deceit and dishonesty.
“Listen, Ellis—”
“I wanted—”
They both laughed as their ill-timed attempts at kickstarting the conversation tumbled and fell over each other.
Ellis speared a hand through his silky blond locks. “You first.”
“No, you, please.” Cinder held up his hands in pure cowardice. He shouldn’t let another moment pass with the mistruth hanging between them, but his nerve-ravaged gut grasped at the chance for a few more minutes of reprieve.
Ellis wet his lips with the tiniest peek of tongue that somehow still managed to be enough to send Cinder’s brain spiraling toward thoughts of plundering that sweet mouth in search of his first real taste of Ellis. The chaste peck on the lips he’d restricted himself to the night prior had done more to amplify than sate his desire.
“I was going to say…” Ellis cleared his throat and glanced at the table, his eyes seeking a distraction in the glossy knotted wood of its surface. “I wanted to thank you. For last night.” His eyes flashed up, latching on to Cinder’s. “I never would’ve had the guts to kiss you first, but I’ve wanted to. For a while now. So… thank you.”
Cinder’s heart rate spiked, and a dizzying wave of pleasure washed over him.
Ellis had wanted to kiss him. For a while now. Cinder grinned. He could work with that. “Well, glad to help, but I hope there’s no ‘guts’ involved now. If you want a kiss, all you gotta do is lay it on me. Capisce?”
Cheeks tinging a lovely shade of pink, Ellis opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the server popped by to drop off a pitcher of frozen raspberry margaritas and two frosty glasses rimmed in sugar—a last-minute decision Cinder didn’t regret one bit, especially when Ellis’s eyes lit up as the icy beverage came into view. Cinder took the liberty of pouring them each a glass, then sat back and enjoyed the show as Ellis, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, relished his first sip of liquid refreshment.
“Winner?” Chuckling at Ellis’s dramatic eye roll signaling a clear duh response, Cinder reached across the table to clink their glasses before indulging in his first taste. It was smooth as sin and the perfect blend of sweet and tart. “Mmm, definitely a hit.”
“Sierra Bravo, boss. Papa Charlie.” Emmitt’s familiar voice growled the dreaded code words signaling a security breach and paparazzi close into Cinder’s ear as his tight grip wrapped around Cinder’s elbow. “Gotta bounce.”
Across the table, AJ had stepped behind Ellis, hovering close enough so on Emmitt’s command—confirmed first by Cinder—they could usher the two to safety.
Dammit all to hell. Cinder closed his lids for the briefest of curse-fueled moments before locking eyes with a bewildered Ellis. “We’ve got some unwanted company. Paparazzi, which’ll probably mean some fan action too. Mind if we get out of here before our margaritas wind up as front-page news?”
Furrowing his brow, Ellis glanced between Cinder and Emmitt, and then over his shoulder to AJ before nodding and pushing to his feet.
But their efforts were in vain.
“Ohmygod, it’s Cinder!”
At the first high-pitched scream, Cinder dropped a slew of colorful swear words under his breath. So much for being the one to break the news. Ellis’s confused stare bore into him, but every chickenshit bone in Cinder’s body reared their ugly heads at the same moment, preventing him from making eye contact. Instead, he allowed Emmitt and AJ to take control and steer them through the obnoxious flashing bulbs, clutching hands, and endless blood-curdling screams.
By the time they’d found refuge in the
security office of the Miracle Mile Shops, Cinder was convinced more than ever before that he’d royally fucked up.
Big time, epic levels of royally fucked up.
Chapter Nine
The hulking men who had shown up out of nowhere to escort Ellis and Henry through an anxiety-inducing throng of shrieking humans wielding cell phone cameras like weapons had shut them inside a small box of a room with an audible click as a lock on the outside slid home. Panic flared in Ellis’s chest, stealing the air from his lungs, and cranking his heart rate to the max until it beat like war drums within his ears.
“I’m so sorry.” The words wheezed from Henry’s throat as he sank into a metal chair, its legs screeching across the cement floor. The sound was so like the screams still ringing in Ellis’s ears it sent a chill down his spine. “I should’ve told you myself. I was going to, today, but… I should’ve done it sooner.”
Ellis ran a clammy palm over his nape, massaging the tension from his neck muscles as he joined Henry in one of the rickety metal chairs seated at a peeling laminate top table in an otherwise empty room. Henry’s words rattled through Ellis’s brain, but he couldn’t make sense of them. He couldn’t make sense of this. Whatever the hell it was. “Should’ve told me what? What the hell was that? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Shame was the only thing keeping the anxiety at bay as Ellis struggled to ignore the fact they’d been locked inside this tiny little room and he didn’t even know why. He wasn’t proud to admit his fear of tight spaces—and of being confined inside them—had carried over from his childhood. This was a literal nightmare.
Henry groaned and dropped his head against the gray-painted concrete block wall. He lolled his gaze to meet Ellis’s and frowned. “Those people were fans. And paparazzi. The men who hustled us away were my security team.”
“Okay.” Ellis pinched one eye closed, forcing his brain to focus. On Henry, not on the nerves firing willy-nilly under his skin, creating the unwelcome sensation of bugs crawling over his flesh. He needed to say something. Anything. As long as it kept Henry talking and the spotlight off him. “Do they always follow you to lunch? I mean, the security guys?”
Sighing, Henry speared both hands into his hair, knocking the pageboy cap off his head in the process. “Yes. I’ve had security following me around my whole life.”
Ellis couldn’t claim to understand the life of a rock musician, nor did he know enough about Henry’s life outside the band to question why he would’ve needed protection as a child. But something about the way Henry huffed out the words through a pinched scowl caused Ellis’s heart to constrict.
It was a much-needed reminder that everyone had their demons. Ellis’s troubles were no worse than anyone else’s, and he couldn’t live his life dwelling on the trials of his past if he wanted to achieve greatness in his future—including allowing his fear of being on the wrong side of a locked door to get the better of him as a grown-ass adult.
“Ellis?” Henry reached out, and on instinct, Ellis placed his much-larger palm into Henry’s grasp, smiling when their fingers intertwined. Henry returned his smile with a soft grin of his own, although it did little to remove the pain in his eyes. “Did you hear what they were screaming?”
Scrubbing his free hand over the barely-there stubble on his chin, Ellis thought back through the recent whirlwind that landed them here. One minute, he was enjoying the first sips of a delicious raspberry margarita—one of his favorite indulgences—and the next, two men he’d never met before whisked him and Henry away from their lunch, through the earsplitting but indiscernible shouts of a frenzied mob, and then shoved them into this prison.
Panic bubbled anew within Ellis’s chest, and to keep the proverbial walls from closing in around him, he forced his attention on Henry’s mouth. Those sweet, plump lips that had pressed so gently and fleetingly against his own and yet managed to elicit an avalanche of emotions with that brief moment of connection.
Without removing his gaze from the soft pink safety of Henry’s lips, Ellis cleared his throat. “Ah, no, I guess I didn’t.”
Henry nodded and puffed out a breath, the force of which ruffled the flop of dark brown bangs no longer secured by his cap. “They were screaming Cinder.” He swallowed and ducked his head, wincing as he said, “They were screaming my name.”
Ellis paced the length of his cot and back again as the gears in his brain whirred in tune with the frenetic tempo of his heart. Henry—his Henry, the man who’d offered Ellis that sweet, unassuming kiss—was Cinder. The Cinder.
This could not be happening.
Thankfully, only a few moments after Henry dropped that bomb, the hulking guards returned. They’d laid out a plan to get Henry and Ellis out of the building without traversing through the mob again or spiking any curiosity elsewhere on their journey, but it required separating into two parties.
Reeling from Henry’s admission and desperate to get free of the confined space, Ellis had jumped at the opportunity. He’d followed AJ—the guard who’d hustled him to safety at the Cabo Wabo—without sparing Henry so much as a farewell glance.
Not because he was angry with him, because he wasn’t. Betrayal pricked at his heart, but with an intensity no worse than a bee sting. They barely knew each other, after all. Just because Ellis had opened his heart more than he should’ve didn’t mean Henry had done the same.
No, Ellis wasn’t angry with Henry. A little hurt, yes, but he could understand the rationale behind keeping his identity secret. What sent Ellis’s stomach into nauseating flips had more to do with outside ramifications than anything on a personal or internal level.
When—not if, but definitely when—Ray found out Ellis had not only defied his orders to stay clear of the band but had actually gone on a date with the one-named wonder himself… He was so screwed.
As if on cue, a thudding knock shook the old green room door, and he braced for the inevitable. Somehow, Ray had already found out. Pictures taken by the paparazzi were undoubtedly circling the internet by now. Ellis’s identity had been discovered. As a result, Ray had come to set Ellis straight. To remind him why fraternizing with the talent was such a bad idea. And why it would cost him dearly.
But instead of Ray’s stocky form barreling into the room, temper flared and fist raised, Henry’s voice carried through the door. “Ellis? I’m so sorry. Please, can we talk?”
What was Henry doing here? They’d only narrowly escaped that mob, half of which had found its way to the Colosseum by the time AJ helped Ellis slip in the back. Henry should be tucked into the safety of his home, not circling back to the theater to face more chaos.
Ellis closed the distance to the door in one long stride. He tugged it open to find Henry with his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, his face contorted into some complicated mix between a winced apology and anxious chagrin. “Thank you for opening the door. I know I’m probably the last person you wanted to see right now, but—”
“That’s not true.” Ellis sighed and stepped back, motioning for Henry to join him inside the room. The show was dark, but his coworkers often showed up on their off days to grab things they’d forgotten in their lockers or to get ahead on some egregious project or repair that had to be done before the next curtain call. The last thing he needed was for any of them to see Cinder, of all people, standing outside his door, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.
When Henry accepted the silent invitation, and the door had been safely shut behind him, Ellis wandered over to his cot and sank onto its rigid surface. He planted his elbows on his knees and let his head fall into his hands. “It isn’t your fault that you’re, you know, him. I mean, you. I mean… Cinder.” Cringing at his own stumbling word vomit, Ellis groaned. “I don’t know how you deal with that mayhem on a regular basis.”
Henry joined Ellis on the cot, which creaked and shuddered under the added weight. “It’s part of the package. My parents are in the business too. It’s all I’ve
ever known.”
Ellis lifted his head at this new tidbit of knowledge. When he met Henry’s pinched gaze, he huffed out a laugh and dropped his hands. “I’m not upset with you. Don’t feel obligated to roll out an apology on my behalf. I’ve dealt with my fair share of groupies trying to break backstage or raucous crowds getting a little too riled up. I guess you’re right in a way, that chaos is part of the business. I’m just not used to it being aimed, in any way, at me.”
Rubbing his palms over the faded fabric covering his thighs, Henry shook his head. “I absolutely owe you an apology. More than one, actually. I never should’ve lied to you about my real identity. That was shady and dishonest and—”
“—and completely understandable.” Ellis met Henry’s quirked brow with one of his own. “You didn’t know me from Adam, and if you grew up under the limelight, I imagine it was a shocker to run into someone as oblivious as I can be sometimes. No reason you should’ve called out my mistake in assuming you were part of the band and not, essentially, the whole band itself.”
Henry licked his lips and stifled a sigh. “I appreciate your understanding. Really, I do. But I should’ve said something before I laid one on you last night. At the very least, before I asked you on a date. It wasn’t fair of me to subject you to the bedlam that is my public life without giving you the option to bow out gracefully if it wasn’t your jam.”
“I knew what I was getting into.” Ellis lifted his lips into a half grin when Henry tossed him a yeah, right eye roll. “I did, thank you very much. I knew you were part of Cinder’s band, and I know Cinder is only the hottest rock star of our age.” He chuckled when Henry dialed up the dramatics with the full-face version of his previous eye roll. Complete with a chin tuck and goofy, self-deprecating smirk. “You are. You know you are. Don’t even pretend you aren’t aware they call you the new Prince of Pop.”
An unexpected blush highlighted that adorable spray of freckles before Henry darted his gaze to the floor. “If I’m so hot and princely, why didn’t you know who I was?”
