Halo (Fallen Angel, #1)(25)

When Halo looked up to see everyone staring at him slack-jawed, he knew he had our attention. No one was interrupting. No one was making obnoxious comments. We were all watching him with laser focus.

“Killian, you’d kill this,” Halo said, as he continued to play and made his way to where Jagger’s keyboards were set up, moving in behind them. He stopped when he reached them, knowing better than to touch another man’s pride and joy without permission. Halo looked in Jagger’s direction, and Jagger knew what he was asking without him saying a word.

Jagger nodded, and Halo let go of the bass and laid his fingers on the keyboard. As if the tune had continued to run through his head as he moved from one instrument to the next, Halo’s fingers flew over the keys in a way most would find difficult to mimic after one listen through. But Jagger wasn’t just anyone. That guy was pure talent behind any kind of keyboard, and when Halo and the rest of us looked at him, Jagger was grinning like a fucking loon.

“Dude.” Jagger looked to Slade, Killian, and then me. “Is this guy for real? That’s…that’s fuckin’ genius.”

Halo looked at Killian, who nodded. But when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out—seemed I wasn’t the only one who was impressed.

Slade twirled his drumsticks through his fingers as he walked in Halo’s direction, then he gestured to his drum kit and said, “I suppose you’re gonna tell us you can play those too, huh?”

I could hear the challenge in Slade’s voice, and knew Halo would be able to see it in his eyes, and while most would be intimidated, it appeared Halo had decided it was time to stop holding back.

Halo held a hand out to Slade and gestured for his sticks. Slade snorted but gave them over, then looked at Killian. “Did you know you’d hired a fucking maestro?”

Halo gave Killian’s guitar back to him, and as he took it from him, Killian slowly shook his head. “No. No, I did not.”

Halo’s eyes found mine, and if I’d thought he was hot when he was nothing more than the new lead singer, then watching him command every instrument in this place like he was born with it in his hand was one of the sexiest damn things I’d seen in my life. Add in the way he was looking at me with that crooked grin and excitement in his eyes, and I was going to have to excuse myself to hide the hard-on I was finding really fucking difficult to control.

Halo sat behind Slade’s drum kit next and stretched his legs out, and with our full attention on him, he began to play, and soon enough the beat flowed out of him as naturally as it had on the other instruments, and someone cursed.

Halo looked up, his light eyes seeking me out, and when he caught me watching his movements, he looked as though my attention pleased him, something that was in direct contrast to his comments earlier.

Fuck. That look was all kinds of trouble, because Halo was looking for my approval. I didn’t think he realized he was doing it. But as I moved closer, until I was standing only feet from him, a flush crept up his neck that made my dick really happy. So happy that if Halo dropped his eyes down to my jeans right then, he’d realize just how much I approved.

When Halo finished and stood up, Slade, Jagger, and Killian began to whistle and slow-clap, before they all looked in my direction.

Right. Three down. One to go.

Halo wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, shrugged out of his jacket, then tossed it on a chair as he walked over to me, and as he drew near, all I could think about was how salty his skin would taste right now.

“Guess that leaves me,” I said.

“Yep. May I?”

I glanced down to my guitar in its stand, and then back to Halo. “I don’t know. No one touches my guitar.”

Halo nodded. But then I smirked, reached for my Telecaster, and held it out to him. “But you seem pretty good with your hands. Just treat him gentle, yeah?”

With careful hands, Halo took it from me and strapped it over his neck, and then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his fingers fly.

As I stood there only inches away from him, I almost forgot the rest of the guys were in the room. Halo, running his fingers over the strings of my baby, was the hottest fucking thing imaginable. The way his body was moving against the back of it, his foot tapping along to the tune in his head, made it damn clear that by the end of this session I was gonna have to call someone up to get rid of this sexual tension clawing at me.

It’d been a long time since my dick had decided to become obsessed with a straight guy, but there was no denying it was interested now. The angel had ignited a fire I was finding really difficult to extinguish, and even though my brain knew he was straight, my cock didn’t much care.

As Halo was finishing up, he opened his eyes and startled at whatever it was he saw in mine. His fingers stuttered over the strings momentarily, and then he caught himself and cleared his throat. “And then, uh…you’d do what you do best.”

“And what is it you think I do best, Angel?” I said it in a way that made it clear I wasn’t just referring to music.

“You’d slay everyone with a killer solo.” Halo lifted the strap over his head and held the guitar out toward me.

“Oh? Not going to show me how it’s done?”

“I’m sure you can handle it.”

As I took the guitar, my hand brushed slightly against his, and before Halo let go, I lowered my voice so only he could hear my words. “Maybe I like watching you.”