Page 45

I was pretty sure we’d already made more than my salary in a single weekend. I guessed there was a dearth of supernatural professional wrestling shows in the rest of the world, and our community was apparently hungry for it. At least that meant I wasn’t likely to be in any danger of losing my job in the near future.

“I think he went a bit overboard absorbing the audience’s emotions.” Larkin was still chattering away as we walked down the empty hallway to the backstage area. “Riding that high of excitement, you know? He’s a little wired. He’ll probably crash soon and be a total butthead tomorrow. I’ll have to feed him lots of sugar.”

I huffed in amusement. Apparently our boss was no better than a hyperactive toddler.

Larkin glanced over at me, looking surprised by my mild show of emotion. Then he shot me a blindingly bright grin, and heat crept up my neck when I realised just how ridiculously beautiful he was.

Fuck’s sake, was this going to happen all the time now? I was finally noticing guys in that way, and now I was surrounded by stupidly hot guys all the time at work. Great.

“I wasn’t all that sure about you when you started, bro,” Larkin told me cheerfully. “You kinda seemed like a d-bag. But I think you’re just quiet, right? That’s what Seb says. He’s quiet too, but he’s, like, the literal best person alive.”

I blinked in surprise. Had he just called me a d-bag?

“Uh, yeah, I’m just…” I shrugged stiffly. “I don’t know. Just not all that sociable, I guess.” After a pause, I awkwardly added, “It’s not personal or anything.”

“It’s cool, I know,” he chirped. “We should play Black Oasis together some time, bro. Me and Hans and you and your buddies.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, trying not to get tense at the thought of my routine with my friends being all messed up by adding new people. But I should probably make an effort, and Larkin seemed nice. A little loud and hyper, but nice. He’d probably get along really well with Nev, to be honest, and Nev was my best friend, so maybe we’d actually mesh okay.

My belly fluttered with nerves when the doors to the backstage area came into view up ahead. I could already hear people talking in there, as well as the ever-present sound of a blender running, stuff clattering in the sink, laughter and the wrestlers yelling jovially to each other.

One of the dressing room doors opened and Vince, the other ghoul here, appeared dressed only in a towel, his dark hair wet and his grey chest and stomach on full display. He had muscle definition, whereas I had exactly zero, but ghouls always tended to run lean and sinewy. Almost gaunt.

Still, he was… My cheeks heated as I tried not to stare, but… damn it, he was hot too.

And he seemed to be pretty good ‘buddies’ with Ewen. I kept remembering that quip Vince had made when they were rehearsing the other week, about knowing how good Ewen was at teasing a dick. I kept wondering if they’d ever…

“Hey,” Vince said enthusiastically when he saw us, pausing to wait for us to catch up. “Awesome weekend, huh? Great job, Rafe. We’re all super impressed by how smoothly it all went.”

I flushed from the praise. “Good. Uh, thanks.”

He pushed open the door and held it for me to walk through. I took a breath and braced myself, already planning to slip inside and quietly stand in the corner. I assumed Holt just wanted to give everyone a rundown of how the weekend had gone.

“Here he is!” I jumped when Holt’s voice rang out, looking up to see him striding toward me with a huge grin. He was wearing a neon green silk shirt with enormous billowing sleeves and tight cuffs, tucked into skintight black pants with matching green high-heeled boots. He looked like a flamboyant punk pirate. “The man of the hour.”

“Uh…” I glanced around, wanting to shrink back when everyone turned to look at me.

My belly clenched with something when I saw Ewen in the kitchen area, leaning a hip on the counter with his head tucked under his arm. He was still wearing his wrestler outfit—those tiny cut-off denim shorts and the fringed shirt that gaped open to show off his chest.

I was pretty sure I stared for a bit too long. I was too tired to remember not to.

He noticed. His mouth stretched into a crooked smile, but for once it didn’t seem all that cocky or condescending. He was just smiling at me.

It was weird.

“You did so good.” Suddenly, Holt’s long fingers were gripping my face as he stared down at me with that unsettlingly feral grin. “So fucking good. I could kiss you, you brilliant bastard.”

“Um.” I stared up at him, somewhat dazed. “What?”

“Great job, Rafe,” Taylor piped up as Holt let go of my face to sling his arm around my shoulders. “It went really, really well.”

The wrestlers all murmured in agreement, several of them raising their protein shakes to me. Except for the royal fae guy, High Lord Crossbody, who was leaning against the wall and examining his fingernails.

What the fuck was going on? Why were they all… congratulating me?

“Uh, I’m… just the IT guy,” I said slowly. “I just did the technical bit. The production guys did more than me—”

“Yes, well, it wouldn’t have been possible without the technical bit.” Holt waved his hand then gave my shoulder a jovial squeeze. “We’re all shit with computers.”