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‘I dabble.’
“Tell me about the songwriting thing?” Adrian asked.
Eric took off his sunglasses before he glanced over quickly, and away again. “What do you want to know?”
“How does it work?” Adrian shifted to avoid getting knocked in the head by a pair of skis, the teenage group in front of them clearly not sober. “Like, do you start with lyrics, or is it the music that comes first?”
“Oh.” Eric rubbed the bridge of his nose, his cheeks flushed from a combination of cold and sun. “It’s a bit of a mixed bag, really. Sometimes it’s a line that pops into my head, and I’ll be scrambling to jot it down so it doesn’t slip away. Other times I’m just messing around on my keyboard and there’s a chord progression that works, and then I try to fit lyrics around it. No hard and fast rules, you know?”
That was rather more words than Adrian had come to expect from Eric. He tilted his head. “Okay, hit me with something. Give me a line.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not how it works.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It really isn’t,” Eric said dryly as he took a step to the side, forced close to Adrian by the crowd.
“Come on.” Adrian let the corners of his mouth twitch into adeliberately challenging smile.Wanna race?“Just one line. Prove that you really are what you say you are.”
“A twenty-something with a questionable internet search history?”
Adrian stifled a laugh. “A legit songwriter.”
For a moment, it looked as though Eric would simply ignore Adrian. Then he flicked him another sideways glance. “Your smile sells riddles.”
Huh.
“Is that a good thing?” Adrian asked.
Eric’s lips quirked. “That’s for you to decide.”
“How very cryptic.”
“You didn’t order the ‘behind the lyrics’ edition.”
Eric wasfunny—Adrian appreciated that in a person. He turned for a proper look, and Martin wasn’t wrong about how the boss would have loved Eric. Anyway.
“Cheeky,” Adrian commented.
For some reason, it made Eric crack a self-deprecating grin that didn’t convey much humour. “Yeah, I’m really not—more of a pushover, if you listen to my exes.”
“A pushover?”
Eric’s dark eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head. “Sorry, never mind. I have much more of a filter usually, I swear. I think it’s because I kind of feel like I know you, which … I don’t. But, you know.” Trailing off, he adjusted his bulky helmet.
Adrian shouldn’t needle him, he really shouldn’t. And yet. “Would that be ‘knowing’ in the biblical sense?”
“Oh my God,” Eric mumbled, ducking his head. “This is so… You’re myboss.”
Ah, fuck.
Adrian cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m not exactly versed in proper boss behaviour, what with how the only job I ever had came with expectations that I’d drop my kit on the count of three.”
“I didn’t meanyou.” Eric looked startled. “I’m the one who keeps bringing it up.”
Oh, okay. That was good—it meant that if Eric packed up and left, at least it wouldn’t be down to Adrian’s fast and loose relationship with appropriate workplace etiquette.
“Mate.” He shook his head. “What gave you the impression that I mind? I’mMartin’sboss, for fuck’s sake. He wouldn’t recognise appropriate workplace etiquette if it yanked down his trousers.”
