Collaring Chaz (Dante's Infernal #2) - Joel Abernathy Page 0,38
was deep in thought about something, and I could only hope he would let it go when we got there.
It felt good to be back. Weird, but good. The vacation was a mixed bag. I still hadn’t heard anything from Alicia, so I could only assume the song was as disastrous as I feared, but it was okay. I’d gotten it out of my system and learned that while I liked writing and having some control over the creative stuff, working alone wasn’t nearly as satisfying as playing with the band, even if I was only an insignificant part of it.
The time I’d gotten to spend with Raf, however, was all good. I just hoped being back wasn’t going to change things too much. I’d gotten comfortable with staying over at his place, falling asleep in his bed and waking up in his arms. Wearing his collar.
Oh, shit. The collar.
I touched the leather band around my neck, freezing right before we entered the studio. Before I said anything, Raf’s eyes met mine.
“Leave it,” he said, walking into the studio.
My heart tumbled over in my chest. It was one thing to have me wear it in the house, or even at the club, but the fact that he wanted me to keep it on now--that he was okay with claiming me in front of everyone, even in some small way--made me feel something I couldn’t quite put into words.
I followed him in on cloud nine. This was the best day I’d had in ages, and as nervous as I was about getting back to recording and the likelihood of fucking everything up again, I needed it to last. Whatever it took.
Dante was behind the booth with a pair of headphones on as he spoke with the sound engineer about something. Cash was leaning against the wall on his phone, and he looked up in relief when he saw us.
“Hey, look who’s back,” he said, wandering over to fist bump me. Even with that, he didn’t seem to know his own strength. How Dante was still in one piece, I didn’t know. “How was the time off?”
“Great,” I said, since it wasn’t entirely a lie. I looked over at Dante, but he was still focused on the mixing equipment. When he finally looked up, I raised a hand to wave, but he looked past me and right at Rafael, so I quickly put my hand down.
“Raf, c’mere for a sec. There’s a part we need to redo.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Rafael muttered, half under his breath as he walked over to join them.
I looked back at Cash, hoping he hadn’t noticed my awkward fail. “So, what did I miss?”
“Not much,” he said, raking a hand through his light hair. “Just Dante being a perfectionist, as usual. I still don’t know how we’re gonna get this all wrapped up before the tour.”
“Yeah, that’s cutting it pretty close,” I agreed.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” Cash said with a heavy sigh, his broad arms folded over his chest. “It was nice of you to come back on such short notice.”
“No big deal. I wasn’t doing anything important,” I said with a shrug.
He studied me for a second, which was always intimidating even if he did look like a giant human teddy bear. He seemed to be about to say something else when Dante stalked out of the booth and over to the mic.
“Alright, let’s get back to it,” he said, already in business mode.
Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about any awkward conversations.
I went back to my spot and pulled Cherry’s strap over my shoulder. My replacement must have been a giant, because I had to strain to adjust the damn mic back to an accessible level.
All of a sudden, I felt someone behind me, and Rafael’s cologne hit my nostrils as he reached around to help me adjust the mic. I froze, heat rushing to my face, since somehow that felt more intimate than making out on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans.
“There,” he said, stepping back. He winked at me as he went over to his mic, and I started blushing even harder.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, unable to meet his piercing gaze. Was I going to be able to survive this tour?
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dante watching us with a look I couldn’t read, other than the general sense that he wasn’t happy. Guess I was selectively invisible to him.