but for the moment, the security it gave me outweighed any future discomfort. Shane didn’t play games, and so I didn’t have to either. I laid my head on his shoulder and said, “You’re just about the nicest guy I’ve ever known.”
“Nice?” He cleared his throat. “That isn’t your way of telling me I’m homely.”
I lifted my head and shot him a serious side eye. “Are you fishing?”
“Just a little.”
“Looks aren’t everything, Shane.”
He clutched his heart. “Shots fired!”
“You really think I don’t find you attractive?”
“Do you?”
As we crossed over into Manhattan, I swiveled toward him and said, “Shall I count the ways?”
His eyes lit up. “Please.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “You have the perfect coloring.”
“Narcissist,” he laughed. “You have to like my coloring.”
“I don’t have to, but I do.”
“Continue.”
I touched his nose. “Your nose gives your whole face character.”
“Character. Oh, God, not that.”
“It’s good.”
“Character and nice are two words that people use as euphemisms.”
“Whatever.” Tracing his bottom lip, I said, “Your lips are sinfully sexy.”
He kissed my thumb. “That’s more like it. Go on.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Now that’s not even a euphemism. Foul.”
“Shall I continue to praise your beauty, or shall I move on to your drool-worthy body?”
“Drool-worthy? Really?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Has nobody ever lusted for you?”
He moved closer, with a mischievous grin. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Our lips connected, and we didn’t speak for several blocks. There was no satisfying us though, and I could tell he was as frustrated as I was by our situation. Kissing him was pure heaven, but heaven couldn’t exist without hell, and hell was made of hot, burning fire. And the flames licked my sinful desire.
He drew back, dragging his teeth across my lip with a deep sigh. “Do you really have to go to work? I could spring for a hotel. We could be there in minutes.”
“We could do that.” I gave him a peck on the cheek. “After I go to work.”
He groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
The cab finally arrived close enough to Times Square, and we got out. Shane followed me into the lobby.
“Well? This is it.” I gestured toward the bank of security turnstiles, indicating the end of the road for Shane.
“I want to see where you work.” He walked over to a desk and secured himself a guest pass.
I was about to drag a bona fide rock musician up to a rock music magazine. Maybe nobody would recognize him.
We slipped into the office mostly unnoticed. I pointed out the cube where I worked and shrugged. “It’s an office. There are meeting rooms over there and a kitchen if you want something approximately like coffee. Oh—” I spun around “—and that’s Lars Cambridge’s office, but I’ve never—”
Shane’s head shot that way. “One sec.”
He walked straight back to Lars’ office and tapped on the door frame. I heard a voice say, “Shane!” and then the door clicked closed.
Right then, the air pressure seemed to change in my cube, and I turned around as Gabe said, “So, you brought us a second-rate drummer, I see.”
“What can I help you with, Gabe?” I had a brief panic that he’d somehow figured out I’d been the one to send a hoard of pitchfork-wielding commenters to his review. But that wasn’t possible.
He craned to get a better view into Lars’ office, where Shane stood behind the glass pane, hands flying the way they did when he got animated. I took a second to admire his under-appreciated ass. Honestly, I couldn’t understand why all the girls in the office weren’t popping up like meerkats to get an eyeful.
Gabe draped one arm over my cube. “You didn’t strike me as a fan of their music.”
I waited for him to tell me why my taste in music was pedestrian, but he surprised me with a curve ball. “So, listen. I’ve got a pair of tickets to Kinky Boots and wondered if you’d like to join me.”
“Tonight?”
“If you’re free. It’s a good show.”
“So I hear.”
I’d never been to a Broadway musical, and it sounded like fun, but the audacity of the short notice made me balk. Not to mention, I was somehow involved with someone else. But how were Shane and I involved? Occasionally, in the past, I’d assumed things were exclusive just because I’d shared a bed with a guy only to never hear from him again. I couldn’t read Shane’s mind, but I thought we had the start of something.