Chapter 7

Corrin

Yesterday was a bit of a twilight zone situation for me. I'm not one to flaunt my relationships around for others to see. It's never really been a desire of mine, and honestly, if it weren't for the need to make our fake dating believable, I'd have kept Austen from the public eye.

Except that wouldn't work for what we needed. Namely, my parents getting off my back, and Austen's peers leaving him alone.

And it works, unsurprisingly.

I wake up on the couch to find a slew of text messages and tags on social media. Normally I ignore them; however, I turned them back on before bed to ensure I didn't miss the news breaking. There are photos and videos galore on every app, all from different angles to display me and Austen together on campus.

Each image reveals more and more about my feelings for him in a way that leaves me vulnerable. More so than I expected.

Sure, I knew I couldn't hide my feelings as easily anymore now that I've touched him and tasted him how I've been dreaming of. But I didn't expect the technicolor version of my longing to be blasted all over the web either.

Closing out the app, I turn to my texts next. I have a few from the label, all of which I ignore. There is also one from my mother. I hold my breath as I click on the notification.

Mom: I see you're dating that young Page boy. How sweet. I wish you'd have told us before Betty from book club dropped it in my DMs.

The fact that my mother says DMs so casually is disturbing. I reply so she doesn't feel ignored.

Corrin: It's newer, but it's good. I'm happy.

Mom: That's great. Would love to have him over for dinner when you both have a chance. Hugs and kisses.

With that, I know everything is fine between us. She'll stop her meddling, which will give me the space to focus on what I need to.

The music.

My music.

Working alone the day before gave me one full song and a melody to a second one I planned to finish today. It would have to wait until later though because I had a meeting in an hour that couldn't wait.

When Miguel Stryker asks you for your time, you say yes. Everyone knows this. It's why I didn't hesitate to agree last night as I picked Austen up from work. No matter what the subject is, I would have been willing to help if it made my boyfriend — my fake boyfriend — look good to his superiors.

Though, I'm not sure who was actually in charge of things last night. From the looks of it, Austen had been calm and collected at the end of the meeting while everyone else seemed harried. Everyone minus Miguel and his husband Aiden.

I knew them in a friend of a friend of a friend kind of way. Plus, Stryker was a global name. They had their hands in every pot known to man from nightclubs to pharmaceuticals last I heard.

"You look rough." Tennyson's voice pulls me from my phone.

A glance his way tells me he's already dressed to head out.

"And you appear more put together than normal. Where are you headed?"

He avoids my gaze. "I'm heading back to the group work area. I want to strategize some marketing ideas for the new tour. I'm researching the best way to spread the word. Let's get you to T-Swizzle level of fame, you know."

I chuckle at the thought. "You're not going to convince the alt-rock crowd to do friendship bracelets and stuff, man. It's not like that."

"You might be surprised what they'd like. Besides, I think you might find your audience likes you, the artist, over the specific genre. I heard you humming when I came home yesterday. It didn't sound anything like the Loveless I know."

"Because it's not," I admit as I grip my phone tighter.

Tenn gives me a once over, then drops to sit on the couch beside me. Wherever he's got to be, it's clearly not urgent. Not if he's stopping to assess my mood over a few bitten out words.

"Talk. Tell me where your head is."

I sigh. "My head is here. I'm just nervous about how it"ll go. I wrote a song yesterday."

His eyes widen comically as a Cheshire grin takes over.

"That's what I'm talking about! One day with me and you're back on your game. How does the song sound? Tell me all about it."

"I thought you had somewhere to be."

He leans back on the couch slowly, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Best friend duties prohibit me from leaving."

"Well, too bad for you because I have a meeting to get to soon. I don't have time to geek out over this with you." My confidence builds the longer he sits with me. Tenn knows me better than anyone. As my best friend, he's heard the ups and downs of the music process. For me to hint that this is different and that he'll like it is like shaking a bag of bacon flavored treats in front of an eager puppy.

Tenn scowls over at me, then checks his phone. "Shit. I'm already running late anyway. This conversation isn't over. I want details, and I want to get first listen. I call dibs."

"You don't have to call dibs. Who else am I going to play it for?"

"I don't know! The band. Or the label. Or hell, even Austen. He loves listening to your stuff, so he'd likely be a good source to get feedback from." He taps his chin. "Actually, yeah. When you and Austen get home, you should play it for him. It's his short day, so you'll have plenty of time."

He so casually drops this bomb on me, then takes off for the door. I try not to let my jaw drop at what he's saying, even though I feel completely shocked.

Sure, I figured Austen knew the music. I was around enough that he'd probably heard me singing, or maybe he's heard the song on the radio.

I never dared to imagine he enjoyed the music enough to be a fan. At least not in the way Tenn was implying.

After Tennyson leaves, I sit alone for a few minutes to gather my thoughts. I can't fathom a world in which Austen Page likes the music I create. Like he likes it, likes it. Enough to probably have it downloaded to his phone or to know the words well enough to sing along.

I get so lost in the idea of him and his appreciation for my craft that I almost miss seeing the man himself come out of his room. When my gaze focuses, it's to find him shuffling to the bathroom in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

Boxer briefs that are struggling hard to contain his monster cock.

Fucking hell.

Now I'm horny.

My alarm goes off to remind me I need to be leaving soon. With Austen in the bathroom, I'm forced to wait. Gathering my clothes and stuff, I get as prepped as possible before he comes out. I don't have time for a long shower since I spent so much of the morning talking to Tenn and debating all my life decisions.

Ok, maybe not anything that dramatic but still. I feel wrung out emotionally, and it's barely eight in the morning.

"It's all yours," Austen calls out while I'm digging through my duffle bag. I already have everything I need. I'm just trying to kill some time since I don't need another peek of him half naked for my body to go haywire.

When I pivot, he's thankfully tucked away in his own space again. I make quick work of jumping in the shower, rinsing away the dirt from yesterday, and then hopping out to get dressed. My erection stands proud as fuck despite the coldness of the water and my demand that it go down. Just knowing Austen was in here before me is enough to keep me hard.

Gently, I tuck myself into my jeans before throwing on the rest of my clothes quickly. By the time I'm done, the object of my lust is eating a bowl of cereal at the counter in the kitchen.

"I'll drive us both. I've got a half day today, though with Stryker still in town, it could go over. Do you mind coming back to grab me later?"

It's such a couple-like question that I stumble over what to say. I don't mind picking him up, obviously. My schedule is wide open since I'm not doing much right now outside of writing the next album. Besides, being with him in any capacity feels good. Why would I turn that down?

"Yeah. I can come back. No big deal. Do you have any clue what Stryker wants?"

We make our way to the car side by side. Austen shakes his head in reply, a frown on his handsome face.

"Your guess is as good as mine. He seemed to know who you were — though who doesn't these days?"

It's the perfect moment to ask if he likes the band. Even so, I hesitate to push the fact. We're already tangled up enough in each other's business. Add to it my real desire to claim him as my boyfriend without the fake aspect, and it's a recipe for disaster.

Instead, I go with, "Guess I'm about to find out. Hopefully, it doesn't put any more work on you."

"I wouldn't mind it much. This internship is for my college credit, yes, but it's also to establish me somewhere for post-graduation. I would like to have connections lined up to allow me a place in the business sector."

Is it weird to get turned on by his dedication to his future? Like a five-year plan shouldn't make my balls ache, right?

Ugh. I'm a mess.

"That's cool. I'm sure they love you there."

Austen throws me a sideways glance that I ignore. The drive to the office is quiet now that we've gotten the small talk out of the way. And with the radio on some classical station, I can't even hint at his interest in Loveless. Sure, I said I wouldn't prod, but the guy could have given me a chance to appreciate it in person. Maybe some car lip syncing to bolster my suspicions.

When we reach the floor Austen works on, he escorts me to his boss's office. Evan is just as harried as he was the night before.

"Mr. Ray! You're here. Of course you are. And Austen! This is great. You're both here."

"Well, yes, Evan. We're here because of my meeting. And the fact that we live together. That helps." I drop the last part casually, like I'm not giving him some of the best gossip in town. He could probably go to TMZ and sell it for a few grand if he wanted. Maybe more if he pulled security footage of us together.

"Oh. Ok. That's… neat." Evan scrunches his face, his reply clearly not what he meant.

Before any of us can speak up to fill the void of conversation, Miguel Stryker rounds the corner. "Corrin! I'm so glad you could come. Let's go down to the conference room for a bit. Evan. Austen. I'll ring if we need anything."

We leave the pair of men — Evan gaping in surprise and Austen with an amused look — as we take off to the private room. Miguel doesn't say a word, though his rushed steps make me believe there is a time sensitive connection to my arrival.

Inside the conference space, he closes us inside and sags against the door. "Thank fuck. Ugh, I was getting tired of the pomp of it all."

I blink twice as I fight to grasp what's happening.

"Excuse me? I'm confused."

Miguel grins at me. It's then I can see the cunning businessman beneath the quiet exterior he's presented so far.

"Sorry about that. This trip has been chaotic, and I'm just happy to have a moment of peace. I kind of got lucky that you showed up here. I was hoping to find a way to connect in the next few months anyway."

"What about? I have to admit I'm more than a little curious about what you want to talk about."

He motions for me to have a seat. I do, then he takes one right beside me. His chair swivels, then his leg crosses over his knee and he leans back. It's all so casual and unhurried. Miguel is unbothered by time here, and he wants me to know it.

"How do you feel about your label, Corrin?"

I freeze at the question. "I feel fine."

Hands raised; he smiles at me as if trying to reassure my frosty tone. "I'm not a spy, nor do I have any intent to pass this information along to anyone. I'm trying to see if my suspicions are correct."

"My label is good at selling records. Though I'm not sure if it's them so much anymore as it is the band itself. They"re currently pissed at me for not producing an album quick enough, even though I just wrapped up a massive tour. I'd love to have more time to work on the music to ensure it's exactly right, but I'm not sure I'll get it. Overall, there's just too much pressure. It's like fast fashion, but with music."

Miguel's lips tip up slowly, his smile growing with each second that I speak. "I'm not happy you're dealing with this, trust me. I'm just glad to see a bit of unrest in you. If you'd been uncaring of it all, I'd be worried about you as a whole."

"Why are you so curious? What is Stryker Global up to?"

"Nothing that I can say on record, technically." He leans forward and motions for me to do the same. "Off the record is a different story. I'd tell you not to worry about your album and timelines because you'll have all the time you need. The company will be restructuring a bit, which will give you the breathing room you deserve. I'd also tell you to get ready to be the face of the music since everything they did before will look like child's play compared to an SG campaign."

I drop back in the seat as if he's scalded me. His words replay in my head over and over, sinking deeper into me with every pass.

"You're going to…"

"Not officially, of course. Can't say anything until the paperwork is done. Would you like to be there when I announce it? Maybe tell the world Loveless is taking a vacation to produce some new music?"

I shrug even as my head bobs. "I mean, I won't turn you down. I do have a new song I've been working on, but I wouldn't want to share it yet. If nothing else, I could stand beside you to show some solidarity."

While it sounds ridiculous to think a man of his stature would need backup for this, I feel it necessary to offer. Especially after he basically put my fears to rest about being rushed through this next album.

It's a relief I didn't know I needed. A freedom that has my muse stretching out in my mind like a cat that just found a sunbeam through the window. I'm ready to soak up whatever greatness comes as a result.

"Let's plan on it. I'll have Aiden reach out to you. He seemed to like Austen, your —"

"Boyfriend."

His expression softens. "Your boyfriend. The two of you make quite the pair. Best to keep him close. That one is going to go far."

"How do you know so much about him? And about me?"

Miguel stands, his hands moving over the front of his suit to smooth out the invisible wrinkles.

"I know more than you think I do. I've got a flight to catch. Why don't you track down your boyfriend and head on home? I'll tell Evan he's done for the day on my way out. Maybe see if he can inspire even more new music."

The way he says boyfriend tells me all I need to know. Miguel Stryker holds a level of power I won't ever understand. Hopefully, he continues to like me well enough to never use said power against me.