Spike smiled softly at me and nodded. “Yeah, baby. You know he did. Has he ever forgotten?”
No, Richard never had. And goddamn, something so little shouldn’t mean so damn much, but it did. It fucking did. And I hated it.
“Will you eat?” Spike asked. “We can watch some trashy TV.”
I stared at the food bag for a moment, wondering if I wanted to give in to Richard’s effort to take care of me. But I couldn’t turn down those breakfast tacos. So, reluctantly, I sat up and crossed my legs. Once I had my tacos in front of me and Spike was sitting beside me, I began smothering every bite I prepared to take in the extra hot sauce Richard had made sure was provided, watching the TV as Spike flipped through the channels, finally settling on some popular talk show—The Willston Show.
“Why are we watching this?” I asked, confused. “We never watch this garbage.”
Spike shrugged. “Just feel like it today. We’ve been out of the loop for a lot of things lately since touring, so thought this might be a good way for us to kind of catch up on other celebrity bullshit.”
I frowned at him. Since when did Spike care about other celebrities? He never had, even when we’d been kids and had idolized other rockstars and bands. He’d never followed the drama that surrounded them like I had. But now that we were celebrities ourselves, I’d stopped following the shit other people talked about.
“We have a very special guest here with us today,” Anthony Willston began. “And I’ve got to admit, I am honored that he chose this show as his first talk show to be on.” He smiled warmly at the camera. “Let’s welcome Richard Nightwork, owner of Nightwork Records, to the stage.”
What. The. Fuck.
I swung my gaze to the television, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head. I choked on my food when Richard actually made his way onto the stage, waving at everyone with a smile on his face. He was wearing one of his Armani suits that fit him perfectly, and his hair was styled to perfection. The scruff that had been along his jaw the night before was now cleaned up and cropped close to his face.
He looked too good to be fucking true. And he was on a talk show. He avoided anything to do with the press like the plague. Why was he on The Willston Show?
“What the fuck is he doing?” I whispered.
“Just watch, baby. I told you what he had to do today couldn’t be postponed.”
I was no longer hungry, but I’d at least managed to get one taco down. Sensing my lack of hunger, Spike simply folded my other taco back in its wrapper, then set it back in the bag before drawing me into his arms, letting me lean against his side.
“Thank you for having me on your show,” Richard said once he’d taken his seat and the noise from the crowd had died down. “I probably won’t ever do this again, but I have a point to prove.”
“A point to prove?” Anthony asked, his brow arching. He leaned in a little, intrigued. “Do tell.”
Richard just smiled, not giving Anthony anything. Anthony laughed, sitting back up. “Okay, I see. You’re going to make me work for it, huh?” He waved his hand. “I suppose that’s my job.” The crowd dissolved into little titters right on cue. I rolled my eyes, wanting them to get to the point of why the fuck Richard was on this talk show.
“Well, I usually work up to the real juicy bits, but I’ve got to take advantage of you being here while I can.” Richard chuckled. “A little bird told me you’re in a relationship, yet there’s been absolutely no mention of who they are, nor has anyone spotted you with anyone outside of your typical business meetings. Mind telling us who your special someone is?”
My stomach clenched, and nausea swirled in my gut. I couldn’t watch this. Who had leaked that Richard was with someone? And what if he denied it all right there on stage for the entire world to fucking see? I wasn’t sure I’d survive that big of a denial.
“Turn it off,” I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can’t?—”
“Just watch, baby,” Spike said softly, his fingers stroking up and down my arm. But I kept my eyes shut, refusing to watch the end of what I’d pictured my happily ever after to be.
“Two special someones, actually,” Richard corrected, and I choked on my own saliva. Swinging my gaze back to the TV screen, my eyes widened. Richard adjusted his suit jacket, looking the perfect image of calm, cool, and collected. Like he hadn’t just told the entire world he was in a relationship with not just one but two people.
“Two?” Anthony asked, no longer having to fake his intrigue. “That’s something. Tell me more.”
“I’ve been in a relationship with Spike Winston, the drummer for the Razor Monkees, and Kalin Steele, the keyboard player for the same band, for a little over a year now.”
I was shaking. He was… He was coming out about our relationship. He was bringing it out to the public. He was finally holding true to his word of no longer hiding. He was upholding the promises he’d been making me the past couple of days.
Tears silently streamed down my cheeks. I should have been happy, so why did I suddenly feel a little panicky?
“The Razor Monkees are signed with your company, are they not?” Anthony asked.
Richard nodded. “They are,” he confirmed. “But our relationship began months after they signed with Nightwork Records. I know many will think they’re success has to do with their relationship with me, which is why I’ve been so adamant on keeping our relationship out of the public eye. I wanted to protect them from the media backlash.”
I sobbed. Spike tightened his arms around me and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“That’s understandable,” Anthony said, sounding genuine. “Even I try to keep my wife and son out of the public eye as much as possible. It’s brutal out here.”
