Page 22

“Okay, temporary rule until we finish the contract. I’m Will, for now. We’re equals while we negotiate. Anything you need to tell me about Bubbles? If not, I’ll probably ask questions as I think of them, but I have nothing I’m dying to know at the moment.”

I shook my head and changed the subject. “You know Darnell and Keisha?”

Darnell owns the tiny house I live in, and he and his wife are my neighbors. Keisha cuts my hair for me on my front porch when she says it’s too long. Just walks over with her scissors and orders me to sit down so she can cut it. I figure it isn’t safe to argue with a woman holding scissors. Sometimes Lexi, Bubbles’ wife, cuts it.

“Darnell sometimes guards me when I’m in town,” Will answered, “but he just fills in when one of my normal guys needs off. They happen to be Ghost’s parents, and I’ve met them backstage a time or two. Not enough to spend time with them or anything.”

“Yeah. Ghost comes for dinner once a week when he’s in town. Sometimes they invite me, too. Keisha’s a really good cook.”

He pulled into Darnell’s driveway instead of mine. “Security told me to park here. I’m looking forward to seeing your place.”

The gull-wing doors opened, and I got out and looked the car over again. I felt better knowing he’d just rented it for a month, but damn, how much would it take to rent a two-million-dollar car for a month? Not to mention the fucking insurance.

“I love performing,” Will told me as we walked around Darnell’s house and then down my long driveway. “My music is…” He shrugged. “It’s my life, so far. I hope to have more people in my life, but for now, it’s a huge part of my identity. I’m fortunate that I make so much money, but it’s also a lot of hard fucking work, and time on the road can be grueling. It’s worth it, being on stage, but the times between being on stage, getting from place to place and dealing with all the people I’ve hired to keep all the gears moving together? It means I also have to pay attention to my down time. If I don’t properly recharge, I’m no good to the organization I’ve built.”

“That makes sense. I just need to be sure it’s you I’m attracted to, and not your money.”

“That’s what’s great, Davy.”

Chapter 9

Will

I stopped, touched his shoulder, and turned him to face me. “You had no idea who I was. I’m sorry I broke trust a little by not telling you right away, but do you understand a little more why I did, now? I wanted us to get to know each other some before you knew, so I could be sure you were getting to know Will and not Lord Byron Wilsin.”

Davy looked at me a few seconds before giving a slow nod. “You’re right. I liked you before I knew you were super-rich. I mean, obviously you were wealthy enough to buy the Stingray and have it restored, but a McLaren is a whole different kind of wealth. Even renting one for a month.”

I kissed his forehead and headed towards his tiny little home again. I’d seen the Google street view, but it’d been a good ways back from the road. Still, you could tell by the size of the front door that it wasn’t just small, but tiny. Our tour bus has more square footage.

The black SUV my security guys were in pulled up, and I stepped Davy off the driveway so they could pull up to the house. One of the men got out, walked to the back, and pulled the picnic basket from the back. I accepted it with a, “Thanks,” and kept walking towards Davy’s front porch.

Two small chairs were on the front porch, and I turned to look at his view while I waited for Davy to use a key to unlock the door. Inside was miniscule, but I suppose it was enough for a single person. A modular loveseat against the wall to the right, a small television hanging on the wall near the door. A ladder leading to what was probably the bedroom over the kitchen. I didn’t see a table, and didn’t think the kitchen was big enough to have one, but Davy walked towards the ladder, unhooked something from the wall, and pulled it down from the wall to create a small table.

“I’ll get us some plates and silverware from the kitchen,” Davy said. “The two chairs outside come in when I want to use the table.”

I set the basket on the table and went out to bring the chairs in. My security team had pulled out to the end of the driveway, but I didn’t see them in the SUV. I’ve long since stopped worrying about where they are, so I went back inside with the chairs.

Davy’s tiny little home was neat and tidy. It reminded me more of a small RV than a house, but he had some privacy, and the woods behind him were nice. The location was excellent, and I supposed it had everything he needed.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked when he came out with plates and silverware. “I have orange juice, water, and I can make some tea. I have some grape electrolyte stuff, too.”

“I brought the beer you like,” I told him, and I was glad I’d thought of it. My house manager usually packs plates and silverware, but she told me that might be an insult to Davy, since we were eating in his home. She said if he only had paper plates, that would be fine.

This basket has a section for hot stuff and another area for cold. The basket was nearly as big as the table, so I put it on the floor and pulled the hot things out — fried chicken and corn on the cob. Next came the potato salad, deviled eggs, and beer from the cold side. “We have watermelon for dessert.” I’d filled the table with the bowls of food. “I guess we need to fill our plates and then put all the bowls back in the basket.” I retrieved the bottle opener and popped the caps on both bottles of beer.

I’d thought we would look over the contract on the laptop while we ate, but the table was too small for our plates and the laptop. My phone opens up to tablet sized, so I pulled the contract up on it and used the stand on the cover to prop it up.

“I don’t intend to sit here in silence while you read it. This is a discussion. Read each paragraph out loud, and then we’ll discuss it. This is a starting point. Also, do you have a list for me?”

He pulled his wallet from his pocket, removed a folded sheet of paper from it, handed the paper to me, and put his wallet back.

I unfolded the paper and took a moment to decipher his handwriting. It wasn’t great, but once I looked at it a second, I could figure it out.

I read through the things he wanted first, and told him, “I’m good with your wants list and have no issues adding them to the contract.”

I read through the longer list and thought the fact he knew to make emotional sadism a hard limit was sad. I would absolutely respect it, but it made me sad to see it in writing. Technically, no scat and no a2m were kind of the same category, but I decided not to point that out. I enjoy being rimmed, but we’d leave that out of our temporary contract. I wasn’t likely to want him pierced until he was completely mine with a permanent contract, so there wouldn’t be anything for him to approve or veto in the short term. I’d already planned for the two of us to go through my playroom so he could point out anything that could trigger his allergies.

But the line about keeping him out of the public eye hit me in the gut. He was going to be wary of vacationing with me until we figured that out. We could work around it, probably, but it certainly made things difficult.