Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(14)

But damn, why’d he have to look so good soaking wet? He ran his fingers through his dark hair, rivulets of water running down his broad shoulders and back, and then, as he turned toward me, I couldn’t help but noticed the way they trailed down his chest as well. It made me want to lick them up, and in the back of my mind, I made a note to get Viper in the shower one of these nights.

“About time,” Viper said to Killian as he grabbed a paper plate off the makeshift picnic table we’d set up earlier. “I’m suddenly hungry for a big, thick wiener in my mouth.”

I sputtered out a laugh that came out more like a cough, and Viper looked my way. “Water in your lungs? Sorry about that,” he said, looking not at all sorry about anything. Proud of himself, actually. The fucker, I thought again.

We all loaded up our plates and headed for the table, Viper taking the seat on the end beside me. It wasn’t until we were all gathered around that it occurred to me that Viper and I were the only ones without dates.

“Got a call from Marshall,” Killian said, between bites of his hamburger. I hadn’t met the head of MGA yet, but Marshall Gellar had been a big enough presence in our studio sessions from the way the producers talked about him. “He’s diggin’ the new tracks.”

“What the fuck ever.” Viper broke off a piece of my hot dog and popped it in his mouth as Killian narrowed his eyes.

“Anyway,” Killian said. “They got the numbers back for ‘Invitation’’s first week of release, and holy shit. It was streamed over eighty-five million times.”

“What?” I said, my eyes wide, my plastic fork dropping onto my plate.

Killian grinned. “Yep. Eighty-five fuckin’ million. And that’s only the first week.”

“But… We never even hit that high with ‘More Than Enough,’” Slade said, the expression on his face—and all of the guys’ faces, really—one of utter astonishment.

“Damn.” Jagger let out a low whistle and then looked my way. “Hope you’ve got your passport, Halo.”

Under the table, Viper squeezed my leg, the only acknowledgment he made of the news, and then he took a chip from my plate and popped it into his mouth. I could only sit there, dazed, as the guys continued to talk numbers I didn’t understand, but there’d be plenty of time to ask them about it later. For now, I wanted to soak in the fact that “Invitation,” a song that started as a riff in my head, was already a bigger first-week success than anything TBD had done. And damn—it felt good.





Ten





Viper





EIGHTY-FIVE MILLION STREAMS? Fuck me, that was impressive. Not that I was surprised. The first time I’d heard Halo playing that riff in Savannah, I knew it could be something extraordinary. But when that many people agreed with you, it was more than that. We’d had massive hits before with TBD, but for this single, from an “unknown” band, to blow those numbers out of the water and into the musical stratosphere, MGA had to realize that this was something genius—that Halo was a goddamn genius.

“We’re so gonna get the green light for a stadium tour,” Slade said, reaching for the ketchup.

Killian took a bite out his hamburger and nodded. “They’re gonna want to see how some of the other singles hit, but they’re super fucking impressed with the stuff we’ve sent them.”

No shit. It was some of the best music we’d ever made, and all because of the man sitting to my left. Halo had lit a fire under our asses, made us think outside the familiar TBD box, and challenge ourselves, and hell if that didn’t make him even more appealing than I already found him.

I looked over at the angel, who was staring at the rest of the guys in silence as though he were merely an onlooker to the conversation, instead of an integral part of it.

“You okay there, Angel?” I said, bumping his shoulder with mine, and when Halo turned my way, he shook his head.

“He’s in shock.” Jagger slung an arm around his lady’s shoulder and tugged her in close to his side. “Not every day someone finds out his song has had eighty-five million streams in a week.”

“Someone get him a paper bag to breathe into,” Slade joked.

“Or just bend over and put your head between your knees,” Killian suggested.

Or between mine.

“I heard it on the radio this morning,” the woman plastered against Jagger’s side chimed in as she aimed a flirty smile Halo’s way. “I just love your voice.”

Yeah, I was sure his voice was all she loved.

“Thanks, guys,” Halo said, grabbing another handful of chips for his plate, since I’d eaten most of his. “I’m fine, it’s just a little…wow, is all.”

“You think this is wow?” Slade said, sitting back in his chair. “Wait till we get to start thinking about a tour. The sets. The lights. The pyrotechnics. It’s gonna be off the chain.”

Halo reached for one of the chips on his plate. “I can’t even imagine.”

“You better,” I said, then drained my beer and looked to the cooler to find it empty. “You’re gonna be center stage in a big way, Angel. We have to think up something epic for your virgin flight.”

When Halo’s eyes widened as though he hadn’t thought that far ahead, I chuckled. Maybe it was time to bring out something a little stronger if the guys were going to start talking about stage setups and world tours. Poor guy looked like he was still coming to grips with the fact his music was being listened to…and loved.