Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(49)
Holy fucking shit.
When no one said anything, Gellar let out a booming laugh. “So this is all I need to say to get you guys to shut up?”
That set them all off. Jagger was on his feet shaking Gellar’s hand, Slade was hell yeah-ing and fist-bumping the man behind the desk, and Killian was busy asking questions I couldn’t hear, because I was too busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that four months ago MGA had been close to kicking us out on our asses, and now they were talking worldwide tours. I mean, we’d all been fantasizing about it down in Miami, and thought that we might get a shot at a nationwide tour—but worldwide stadiums?
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
I glanced at Halo, the only other person who hadn’t moved, to see he was looking at me with shock stamped all across his face, but his eyes were lit with pure excitement.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to grab the back of his neck, haul him in, and kiss him. I wanted to share this perfect moment with him by sharing my own pent-up feelings of relief, excitement, and total respect I had for him for getting us to this spot today. But I couldn’t do any of that, so instead I winked at him, and Halo grinned even wider as he got to his feet to shake Gellar’s hand.
When I went to do the same and we were all standing gathered around Gellar’s desk, he took my hand and said, “Remember, this is all contingent on whether this album, and Halo, are as good as you all think they are.”
I tightened my fingers around his and leaned over a little and said, with no hesitation whatsoever, “He’s even better, and you know it. Otherwise you’d never have signed off on this in the first place.”
When I let go of Gellar’s hand, he looked at all of us, and I added, “Drop ‘Dark Angel’ next. If that shit doesn’t top ‘Invitation’’s numbers in the first week, I’ll shave my fucking head.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Gellar said, and I shrugged.
Jagger’s mouth fell open. “Shut the hell up,” he said, as Slade muttered, “You crazy-ass motherfucker.”
And when Killian said, “You wouldn’t,” I looked over at Halo, who was eyeing my hair as though he hated that idea, but I wasn’t worried.
All of America was waiting for what this dark angel beside me was going to do next. My hair was going nowhere, but Fallen Angel? We were going on a worldwide tour, and I couldn’t fucking wait.
Thirty-One
Halo
IT’D BEEN A chaotic month. “Dark Angel” had dropped, edging out “Invitation”’s sales by a number that blew my mind, the stadium tour was officially greenlit, and, best of all, Viper had gotten to keep his hair. Thank God.
I turned my head on Viper’s pillow to look out his floor-to-ceiling windows at the Manhattan skyline. It may have been after midnight, but lights twinkled across the city like stars, countless others as awake as I was. Beside me, Viper slept soundly on his stomach, his face angled toward mine and his arm draped over my waist. More often than not lately, I found myself staying over, not leaving until well after dawn, because if I was gone when Viper woke up, all hell broke loose. I’d already seen what happened when I snuck out in Miami after our first night together, and I wouldn’t be repeating that mistake anytime soon.
Those were all good excuses, because it wasn’t like I wanted to leave. Sure, his place was a helluva lot more comfortable than mine, but I’d feel the same even if our situations were reversed.
I looked down at the arm he had lying across me and covered it with mine, gently so I wouldn’t wake him up. It was this small move Viper made in his sleep, as well as a hundred other little actions I don’t think he even realized he did, that told me this thing between us had veered into complicated territory. When we’d been in Miami, I worried that we wouldn’t be able to continue the casual hookups once we were back in New York, but now that we were here, I worried that neither of us would come out of this thing unscathed.
Viper stirred, his arm tightening around my waist before he stilled again, and as I looked at his face, my stomach flipped. Somehow along the way, and I couldn’t even pinpoint when, my guard had dropped and I’d fallen for him. I couldn’t even deny that truth to myself anymore, though I’d deny it to anyone else who asked—especially to Viper.
I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, wondering how the hell I was supposed to navigate this now. We’d both been on the same page, agreeing to the same terms about our non-relationship, and here I’d gone, doing something as stupid as falling for Viper. If he knew what I was thinking, I doubt he would’ve minded me running out on him at two a.m.
Dropping my hand, I let my eyes roam over his face. I wanted to reach out and trail my fingers along the stubble that lined his jaw, but if I did that, I’d keep going, down his neck, across his chest, over his abs, and farther down…
My stomach let out a growl of hunger, and I realized we hadn’t actually managed to eat the dinner we’d ordered. Viper had shoved the pizza in the fridge before dragging me into his bed, and that was the start of a marathon fucking that had lasted until about an hour ago. It hadn’t taken Viper long to fall asleep, but I’d stayed wide awake, my mind unable to shut the hell up.
When my stomach growled again, louder this time, I slowly moved out from beneath Viper’s arm, sliding out of the bed without waking him up. I quietly stepped into a pair of jeans and slipped out the door, heading toward the kitchen.