April 21. Saturday night.

 

“THEY’RE GONNA love you,” Gray pronounced with complete confidence and caught Seb’s hand to stop him pacing around the dressing room. “Same as me,” he added as he looked into Seb’s gorgeous green eyes.

Seb smiled—said, “love you too”—and all the anxiety seemed to drain out of him. He leaned into Gray, and Gray held him. Not because he needed holding up, but because he didn’t. It hadn’t been easy forging their new relationship. Pink had been right that going from protector to lover wasn’t seamless for Gray. He wanted to forbid Seb from driving on his own, shopping without him—even though Gray hated any sort of shopping—and visiting the recording studio where Seb was working on his first album. Quinn Armitage had asked to see Seb many times, but Seb wasn’t interested, and Gray was glad.

If Gray had intended a kill shot that day, Armitage would be dead. They’d had no choice but to enter the building by force. The guards outside had capitulated quickly and said the surgery was imminent. There would be no talking McKay out of anything.

Seb had just looked at him quietly for a few seconds after Rawlings had let that little detail escape when they had all been around for the barbecue to celebrate Tabitha’s birthday, but he had held Gray’s hand especially tight for some time afterward, so Rawlings was forgiven.

Seb leaned back, and Gray absently brushed some powder from his shirt. “Wait—did they put makeup on you?”

Seb grinned at Gray’s outrage. He could usually tell the nuances in Gray’s phrases now. Knew that when he drawled out the word “fantastic,” it was anything but, especially when he’d gotten a request from a pop-star wannabe who had seen him accompany Seb to the recording studios and offered Rawlings a ridiculous amount of money to have him be her bodyguard. Gray only took one-night contracts now.

There was a knock at the door, and Seb’s new manager—Bill Richards—put his head around the door, swallowing nervously. “The visitors you warned me about are here. It wasn’t easy to get them through.” He stood back, and then suddenly the dressing room was very full of what seemed to be huge-ass people. Gray’s pulse sped up, even though he knew who they were, as the first blond-haired, blue-eyed god strode toward him with his hand out. “Gray Darling?”

Gray registered the keen gaze, the Glock strapped to his thigh, and the scar identical to the one on Seb’s left cheek. “Talon Valdez,” Gray replied and shook the huge hand. They had spoken on the phone. He turned to where Seb was hugging a much smaller guy, and they were laughing.

“I can’t believe you got us front-row seats,” chuckled the man, who Gray assumed was Finn Mayer, Talon’s partner on the human-enhanced FBI team down in Florida.

Another man with an identical scar—who had to be the size of a house—also grinned. “I think they’re moving us, actually.” He rolled his eyes. “Some assistant took one look at us and stammered out if we were on the front row, no one in any of the ten rows behind us would be able to see anything.” Gray watched as the other young man, complete with a blue streak in his hair, punched the giant playfully on his arm to get him to move and then also threw his arms around Seb.

They all chatted eagerly for a few minutes, and Gray was fascinated. Apparently two others of the team couldn’t come because they hadn’t been able to get a babysitter, which seemed a ridiculously normal activity for superheroes to worry about. The others weren’t keen on traveling or something, but they all eagerly made plans for Gray and Seb to vacation down in Florida with them. Gray was happy Seb had friends who understood him. He felt a nudge and glanced down at Finn.

“It’s a little overwhelming, huh?”

Gray smiled and nodded. He suspected that Finn and Talon were more than partners on the job from the way Talon never took his eyes off Finn. Which was kind of nice. Maybe he ought to get Finn’s cell number and compare notes? The thought made him grin stupidly until another knock on Seb’s door interrupted them. Gray turned Seb so he could see the young lady clutching a clipboard who put her head around the door. “Five minutes, Mr. Armitage.” She glanced at Gray. “Will your security detail be accompanying you to the stage?”

Gray snorted and the rest of the guys laughed. They’d obviously found the question ridiculous as well. Seb wouldn’t be going near the stage without him. Seb thanked her, and she left with the team, promising to show them to their seats at the side of the stage, where no one was usually allowed to sit. Gray hoped Rig had managed to get the reinforced chairs they were probably going to need.

Seb turned and held his hand out, and Gray clasped it as they left the dressing room and walked toward the back of the stage. There was already someone out there, trying to whip up the crowd and introducing Seb.

Gray paused just behind the curtain as one of the sound engineers offered Seb an earpiece and then blushed furiously when he realized his mistake. Seb grinned good-naturedly and watched the tech counting down the seconds on his fingers to when Seb was supposed to run out onstage. Seb would sing “Bringing Him Home” while playing the guitar, but the song that Seb’s record label wanted to release as his debut single, Seb would sit at the piano to perform.

Seb ran out to enthusiastic cheers that carried on for a few seconds before the huge video feed focused on Seb… and his face… and the scar. One by one all the cheering died down in the audience. There were even a few people who got to their feet and scuttled out. Gray wanted nothing more than to go onstage and stand between Seb and the audience, but as he saw Seb take a calming breath and fix a smile on his lips, he knew this was one fight Seb would have to face on his own. Seb settled himself at the piano and played the opening bars to what Gray knew would always be his favorite song, no matter what success he ever had afterward.

Seb glanced at where he knew Gray stood, opened his mouth, and started singing the song everyone from the record label to Gray to Pink and Tabitha knew was going to be a hit.

“Guarding His Melody.”

And Gray would.

Every.

Damn.

Day.