Chapter 11 #2
He didn’t want to let Harry go. The power of that realization had him tensing up all over again.
He wanted to be with Harry. He needed Harry’s strength and influence as he worked with Albion, but he would need it after as well.
After, when he was supposed to return to L.A.
to work on an indie film and to record a soundtrack for the pilot of a new TV show, both jobs his agent had lined up for him right as Cooked had ignited the rocket of his career.
“Hey,” Harry said, concern back in his voice. “Tell me what brought this on.”
The fact that Harry had sensed the change in him was deeply wonderful.
“I want to be with you,” he confessed before he could shrink back into himself and become the rudderless people-pleaser that he’d always been.
For a change, he wanted to please himself.
“I’m only in London for a limited time, and I know we only just met, really, but I want to be with you.
I want this to be more than a fake arrangement. I want—”
Harry silenced him with fingers to his lips again, but this time, it made Nikky panic instead of soothing him. Did Harry not want the same things?
“It’s okay,” Harry said, his voice as calm as ever and his eyes soft with caring that was totally unlike the persona the man projected to the world. “We can’t worry about the future before it gets here.”
“But—”
“No,” Harry silenced him firmly. A shiver of something primal raced through Nikky, making his body go slack.
He was definitely going to have to learn more about Dom/sub dynamics, because this felt way too natural.
“We’ll worry about all that when we get there,” Harry went on.
“It might not be as big a problem as all that.”
Nikky didn’t see how that was possible. London and L.A. were thousands of miles apart.
He was stopped from asking more questions or worrying himself into nausea by Harry’s alarm going off.
Harry rolled to the side, which separated their bodies, much to Nikky’s regret, and reached for his phone on the bedside table, where he’d put it the night before after taking down the recording set-up.
“You need to get going,” he said as soon as he tapped on his phone.
“You’re due at the studio in just over an hour. ”
Nikky huffed out a breath, then rolled his eyes at himself for sounding like a teenager who didn’t want to get up and go to school.
“I guess,” he said, swept a hand over his face, then pushed himself up enough to look down at Harry.
“But for the record, if it were up to me, I’d stay here and ride your cock all morning. ”
It was more than just flirting. He’d never said anything half as bold or expressed what he wanted like that before. Harry probably said and heard things like that all the time, but for Nikky to state what he wanted outright, then to lean down and kiss Harry hard, was serious progress.
“We’ll definitely do that at some point,” Harry said with fire in his eyes as Nikky climbed out of bed and headed for the hall and the bathroom.
Nikky sent him a hungry look over his shoulder as he left the room, then dropped into a wide-eyed look of shock over his behavior. Everything was changing for him, but maybe things were finally starting to change for the better.
He could only hope.
After showering and dressing in the same clothes he’d worn for two days now, Nikky raced through the breakfast Harry’d made for him.
He didn’t just need to get to the studio on time, he needed to rush back to his hotel and change clothes.
Albion hadn’t said anything about him wearing the same outfit two days in a row, but he’d definitely notice a third.
At the hotel, Nikky stuffed the backpack he’d used as a carry-on for his flight full of more clean clothes and toiletries.
He loved smelling like Harry’s shower gel and shaving cream, but if he was going to spend more time at Harry’s place, which he fully intended to do, he needed to start providing for himself.
By the time he reached the studio, the level of calm and confidence that he’d siphoned off of Harry was still with him, making him feel at home in his own skin for the first time in ages.
People noticed. Albion noticed.
“That was great.” He sounded surprised as he spoke to Nikky through the intercom of the recording booth.
Nikky had just finished singing yet another fluffy, ill-fitting song that Albion insisted on trying out for him.
Charlotte, his manager, had arrived in London first thing that morning and was there to sit in, but she looked incredibly jetlagged and bleary.
“Though something isn’t right about it,” Albion went on with a puzzled frown.
“Oh, yeah?” Nikky replied. He knew what was wrong. The song. It was like trying to wear hand-me-downs a size too small from the kid who had just been moved on.
The urge to say that outright prickled across his skin.
He didn’t know what it was, but Albion looked shorter today for some reason.
His face looked puffier, too, and he’d missed a spot shaving.
Maybe the man was like that every day, but to Nikky, he’d always looked huge and imposing.
The kind of guy you couldn’t naysay. Charlotte, too, looked like a tired, middle-aged woman who wasn’t really interested in what was going on around her.
Nikky could advocate for himself to people like that.
“Yeah, it’s too…I don’t know. Too…twee for you,” Albion said.
“Way too twee,” Charlotte agreed, though Nikky barely heard her, since she wasn’t sitting near a microphone.
Nikky brightened, confidence making his heart pound against his ribs. “I could sing something else,” he said. “I’ve got loads of original songs up my sleeve. Want me to pull one of those out for you?”
Albion frowned. He’d pushed back on every original song Nikky had tried to play for him so far. Nikky had given up suggesting them, but the timing felt right for a change.
“I’d love to hear some original songs,” Charlotte said. She glanced at Albion, then gave Nikky a supportive thumbs up through the glass.
Albion didn’t look happy, but he said, “Okay. I’m all ears. How about something upbeat?”
“Sure,” Nikky said, relaxing onto the stool where he sat.
He strummed the acoustic guitar he held a few times, playing chords to decide which of his compositions he wanted to sing.
He landed on one of the few love songs he’d composed.
He’d written it years ago, when he’d had a crush on a straight guy in one of his acting classes.
The crush had gone nowhere, of course, but the song was fun.
As he started singing, he thought of Harry.
He thought of the man’s warm, dark eyes, thought of his amazing body and all the things it could do and make him feel.
He thought of the way Harry cared about him and how the man made him feel safe without strings attached.
He was probably foolish to fall so hard for someone so fast, but he couldn’t help it. Everything felt right.
Albion and Charlotte fell into some sort of discussion as Nikky played.
Albion had turned off the mic so Nikky couldn’t hear a word of what they were saying, but it looked like they were disagreeing about whatever it was.
If he was lucky, Charlotte was standing up for him and urging Albion to let him record his own music instead of the drivel he was contractually obligated to record.
Maybe his manager was actually on his side after all. Maybe he could record the album he wanted. Maybe the fans would ease up and respect his privacy more. Maybe Holberg would realize there was nothing Nikky could do for him at last and leave him the fuck alone.
Maybe his relationship with Harry was something real and long-lasting.
Maybe everything would be okay.
“That was nice,” Albion said without much enthusiasm once Nikky finished his song.
Charlotte gave him two thumbs up again, and even though the gesture felt scripted and cliché, she looked more awake than she had. She leaned over and spoke into the mic, “I love it, Nikky. We definitely need to talk about your music once we have a second.”
“Okay,” Nikky said with a smile.
Albion said something to Charlotte which Nikky didn’t hear.
He’d turned off the mic, and it looked like the two of them were arguing again.
Strangely enough, Nikky didn’t really care.
He didn’t care if Albion made him record songs that weren’t him at all.
It was just one album. Fans would see through it if it wasn’t authentic.
He could record something else that reflected who he was later.
Those thoughts took him by surprise and made him laugh. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head and reaching into his back pocket for his phone, which had been on silent for days. Harry would be so proud of him for thinking of everything rationally instead of tying himself in knots.
He’d reached for his phone intending to send Harry a text, bragging about how mature he’d suddenly become and attributing his new attitude to being fucked into the mattress the night before.
Two other texts were waiting for him when he tapped his phone.
The first was from Drew. “We’re back in London. Dinner tonight? Don’t be one of those people who puts their boyfriend over their best friend.”
Nikky would have laughed at that and texted Drew back immediately to make plans, but the second text knocked the wind out of him and made him feel sick.
It was from Holberg.
“I saw those naughty pics of you. I know who you’re keeping company with now. Didn’t I warn you about the consequences of dating anyone else?”
The guitar Nikky was still holding almost slipped to the floor. Holberg had sent the message only half an hour before, and there was a second one.
“I’m in London, by the way. We need to talk.”