Page 156 of Discordant Cultivation

That’s not how we work. “I know. I just—I w-wanted to make sure we weren’t in the m-middle of something important.”

“Okay,” Jericho said, but she didn’t look convinced.

Two takes later, Vale’s voice cut through the headphones: “Stop.”

Kieran froze, his heart racing. “What? Was it—did I m-mess up the—?”

“Come here.”

Kieran pulled off the headphones and went to the control room, with Jericho following behind him. Vale was already standing, his eyes darting over Kieran’s face.

“What just happened?” Vale asked quietly.

“N-nothing, I was just—”

“You zoned out for three seconds.”

Kieran glanced at the engineer, at Jericho, acutely aware of the audience. “It was j-just a little one,” he said softly, stepping closer to Vale. “It’s fine. It p-passed already.”

Vale’s jaw tightened, his hand coming up to cup Kieran’s face. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. It was tiny. B-barely anything.”

“If it happens again, we’re done for the day.”

“Okay.” Kieran leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling of Vale’s skin on his.

When he turned back, Jericho was staring again.

They finished the last take, signaled by the engineer’s thumbs up at them. “We need about thirty minutes for some solo runs from Jericho,” he said. “Thorn, take a break. We’ll call you back to just isolate the guitar tracks.”

Vale appeared in the booth doorway, hand extended toward Kieran. “Come on.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Jericho said, looking down at her phone as she drank from a bottle of water. Her leg was bouncing on the rung of the stool and had been for nearly ten minutes.

Maybe she’s tired?

Kieran followed him down the hallway to a green room. Vale closed the door behind them, and Kieran’s attention immediately caught on the bag sitting on the couch cushions.

“What’s that?”

Vale’s smile was soft, almost shy in a way that flipped Kieran’s stomach end over end. “Clothes for tonight. We can’t go on a date with you in a hoodie and gauze, sweetheart.”

“We’re really d-doing it? A real date? And I don’t have to…” he touched his wrapped fingers to his throat, “I don’t have to wear the gauze for it?”

“That’s right.” Vale crossed to him, his hands settling on Kieran’s hips with the kind of certainty that made Kieran’s breath catch.

He rose on his toes without thinking, seeking Vale’s mouth like he’d been waiting for it all day—maybe he had been. The kiss started soft, sweet enough to make him sigh contentedly, and god, he loved this. Loved when Vale touched him like this, gentle and unhurried, like Kieran was something precious instead of—

But the kiss didn’t stay soft. It never did.

Vale’s grip tightened, possessive and demanding, and Kieran whimpered into his mouth as Vale walked him backward. His spine hit the wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, but he didn’t care, didn’t care about anything except the way Vale kissed him like he was starving for it. Deep and desperate and hungry, the kind of kiss that scattered every coherent thought Kieran had tried to hold onto.

“This is cruel, sweetheart.” Vale’s voice was rough against his mouth, sending shivers down Kieran’s spine. “I just spent hours listening to you sing about wanting me, and then you’re going to tempt me like this?”

“I l-love you,” Kieran gasped as Vale’s teeth found his lower lip.

Vale kissed him harder instead of responding—and that was answer enough, wasn’t it? His hand slid up to wrap around Kieran’s throat, fingers pressing just right, and Kieran’s knees went weak. He gasped and arched into Vale’s grip, tilting his head back to offer more of his throat because he needed—