Angel (Fallen Angel, #3)(37)

Twenty-Five





Viper





I ORDERED A few appetizers for the table, along with the wine, and as the hostess left to pass on our order and we began to peruse the menus, Larry said, “I think you boys caught the attention of everyone in this place.”

“We come here a lot,” I said, attempting to downplay the curious stares Halo and I received whenever we went out in public.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. More like they’re all wondering if they can come talk to you.” Larry’s lips quirked. “You don’t have to play modest. We know what big superstars you two are.”

“Daaad.” Halo groaned.

“What? We’re proud of you, son.”

“I appreciate that, but can you not use the word ‘superstar’? That makes me feel like a douchebag.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Cheryl reached across the table and covered Halo’s hand with hers. “You could never be a douchebag.”

I chuckled, watching the dynamics of Halo and his parents’ relationship playing out in front of me. He’d always told me they were a tight-knit group, the four of them, including Imogen, but you could really feel it, like a tangible thing.

“So are you two excited about the tour?” Cheryl asked. “Where’s the first stop?”

Halo looked to me to answer.

“Atlanta,” I said, as a waiter approached with our bottle of wine, and when I nodded, he uncorked it and Larry did the tasting honors. “And yeah, it’s gonna be somethin’, all right. Halo’s gonna blow everyone away.”

“We can’t wait to see it.” Cheryl took a sip of her Chardonnay, and both my and Halo’s eyes bugged out.

“You can’t come see the show,” Halo blurted out.

“Why not?”

“Because…” He glanced sideways at me, but hell no was I about to tell his parents it would be an inappropriate show. Instead, I took a long gulp of wine. “It’s not really your thing,” he finished.

“Sure it is,” Larry said. “We listened to the album—”

“Oh God.” Halo slumped in his seat.

“It’s fantastic. I like that song… Which one was it, Cheryl? The one with the moon and stars?”

“‘Dark Angel,’” Cheryl said. “So catchy. We heard it playing on the way here, didn’t we, Larry?”

He nodded. “We did.”

“But don’t worry,” she continued. “We didn’t listen to the ones that said ‘explicit content’ beside them.”

Fuck me. I never even considered that Halo’s parents—fucking Cheryl Olsen—would ever listen to our shit, but at least it seemed like she hadn’t heard the song I wrote about her son making me hard.

I suddenly needed something stronger than white wine.

“Well, we’ll be playing that explicit content, so maybe you and Dad could sit this tour out.” Halo’s face had turned a gorgeous shade of red, and my fingers itched to feel the heat of his skin under my hands.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cheryl said at the same time Larry muttered, “We’re going whether you like it or not.”

When Halo’s head dropped into his hands, I swallowed, not sure what the fuck to say. They definitely didn’t need to see the show, but when they both looked my way expectantly, I said, “We can make sure you’ve got passes for the show here.”

Halo’s head shot up. “What?”

I felt my face heat, and not from the wine. Shit, what had I just offered? Fucking tickets?

Before I could say anything, Cheryl sent a victorious smile my way. “Thank you, Viper. Halo never used to tell us where he was performing, so it’s not often we get to see one of his shows.”

Christ, and their first glimpse was gonna be Halo singing about my blue balls. Motherfucker.

Thankfully, the appetizers came out then, and after we gave our entree orders, I kicked Halo under the table to change the damn subject.

“So, there’s something I wanted to show you,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through until he found what he was looking for, and then set the phone in front of his parents.

Cheryl’s mouth parted. “Is that for your tour?” She looked up at Halo. “Will you be playing that piano?”

“That’s incredible.” Larry picked up the phone to get a closer look, pinching his fingers over the screen to zoom in. “Look, Cheryl, it’s a Steinway & Sons, just like yours.”

“Only covered in feathers,” she said. “I’m a little jealous. That’s absolutely stunning.”

Halo reached for my hand under the table and held it on my thigh. “It was a gift from Viper. He designed it himself.”

“You designed this?” Cheryl said, astonishment on her face, and then she looked at Halo. “And you get to keep this after the tour?”

Halo beamed. “Yes and yes.”

“But…you can’t possibly put this in your apartment.” Larry’s nose scrunched up when the words “your apartment” crossed his lips, which meant his feelings on Halo’s place were about the same as mine. As in, we should just burn it the fuck down.