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Tristan laughed. “It’s a good thing your evil genius only plays in the fields of the
music industry. God help us if you’d gone into politics.”

Trevor regarded him. “How do you know I haven’t? I could run an entire small country
by Twitter and text.” He pulled out his phone. “Damn. A coup. Well. It was fun while
it lasted.”

I watched the two of them exchange insults and snark about the people on stage. I
said nothing, just listened. Trevor’s cruel banter was raising Tristan’s mood more
than any of my earnest protestations of love could. As it should be, I thought. Not
everything ran on love. Or that kind of love.

At the final thank you and goodnight, followed by the voice-over thanking the individual
sponsors and going through the brief legal explanations of the voting procedure, the
audience began to twitch. Release was in sight. As soon as the cameras were off, the
entire energy changed. First it sagged, then it was like a horse leaving the gate
in a race. There were people to talk to, after-parties to go to and be seen at, all
the amusements that the industry had to offer. And after over three hours of being
on their best behavior, the audience was starving for any actual entertainment. The
bloodier, the better. Trevor checked his phone. “Excellent. Limo will be there to
save us from too many fans and photographers. Let’s go pretend you’re surprised, Tristan.
And Lily. We’re going to fade into the crowd and let Tristan have his moment in the
spotlight, like Venus rising from the sea. We don’t want to interrupt the flow of
love and lust coming his way. And underwear. Though it’s hard to say one has truly
lived until they’ve had a pair of damp knickers thrown at their face.” Trevor twisted
his face into an expression of astonishment. “Isn’t this fun? Say yes, and let’s escort
our star to his loyal and possibly deranged fans.”

chapter twenty-six

L.A.

The after-parties had gone on late, but it was still not full dawn when our limo dropped
us back at the hotel. The man on front desk noted our arrival, handed Tristan and
AC their keys, and went back to reading something.

“He was entirely too calm,” Tristan muttered as we tottered along the path by the
pool leading to the villa. “Well, nothing to see here. Move along, move along.” AC
giggled.

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I thought it didn’t get cold in L.A. I’m chilly.”

Suddenly both men had their arms around me, their hands smacking into each other as
they circled my waist. We all cracked up. “That’s better, isn’t it Lily?” AC purred.

Tristan smirked. “Very subtle. I won’t look around, but I’m sure front desk guy is
filming your ass, right now.”

AC shrugged. “He’s welcome to the view. May it entertain him for the rest of his shift.
Here’s my villa, anyway. I will wish you two good night.” He started to pull his arm
from my waist but I could feel that Tristan had grabbed him by the wrist.

“Don’t play that way. I haven’t even raided my minibar yet…wait, yes I did. But it
will be replenished!” Tristan flourished the key. “You’re coming with us. I need another
witness if I have to complain they didn’t give me enough.”

AC grinned. “You’re an idiot. Besides, the record company sent over a basket of goodies
and champagne. It’ll be in the room.”

Tristan looked at him, unfocused. “How do you know? Maybe yours is different.”

AC giggled again. “I know, big rock star, let’s compare.”

Tristan shouted, “A challenge! I love a challenge.”

“Shhhh,” we both whispered, and we all started laughing again. Tristan managed to
open the door with the key, and we stumbled in.

“Look,” Tristan said delightedly, “there is a basket.”

“But it’s not cold,” AC sniffed. “What’s in the minibar?”

“What’s in your pocket?” Tristan grinned. “I’ll get the bottle if you get it out.”

“So demanding.” AC sat down on the sofa, and I sat next to him. Tristan came over
with the bottle, and unwrapped and carefully popped the cork.

“Glasses. I forgot.” Tristan muttered.

AC put his hand on his shoulder. “Forget it. Like race car drivers, right Lily? From
the bottle.”

“I don’t mind,” I said.

“Good,” AC answered, and passed me the bottle. I took a long swig, and when I went
to put it down, looked at what AC’s hands were doing, then back up at Tristan.

AC saw the look on Tristan’s face, and followed it back to me. “You’re not going to
tell on us, are you Lily?”

I shrugged. “No. Not tonight. But…”

AC stopped what he was doing and took my hand. “Just tonight. Really. Mostly. Promise.”
Then he glanced at me. “Do you want some?”

I looked at Tristan. It seemed he was waiting. “You’ll do it anyway, just in the bathroom
without me watching.”

“Probably,” they both said.

“Then yes. Better here than there.” I grabbed the bottle. “I’m not perfect, I never
said I was.”

“Lily! Stop it. You are. It’s just a bit of fun.” AC looked at me. “You are pretty
perfect, actually.”

Tristan waved the bottle towards us. “She is. She really fucking is. Come here, darling.”
And he managed to take the little spoon and gesture towards me at the same time.

AC laughed. “No, rock star. You come here, and cuddle on the sofa. Lily, you’re going
to spoil your dress. Take it off. I hear all 5 a.m. parties happen in underwear.”
And he screwed the cap back on the vial, and stood up. Once he was sure that he had
our attention, he started to take off his jacket. Draping it carefully over a chair,
he began on the buttons of his shirt. Tristan and I watched.

“Come on Lily,” AC called, “come up here. Next to me. Look, there’s another chair
for your dress. See? Tristan’s watching.”

I stood up, and looked over at Tristan. “Only if you want to,” he mouthed to me. But
the look on his face was something else again.

I went and stood next to AC, who stopped what he was doing to undo the zipper on my
dress. “Oh, little hooks at the top. Fine craftsmanship, this. Soft.” He undid the
zipper, and ran a finger down my spine, snapping the back of the bra gently against
my skin, and then continuing downwards. “Very fine craftsmanship here.” He left the
dress on my shoulders. “Let’s do it together,” he smiled. Then he lowered his voice
to a whisper. “He’ll like that. A lot.”

Tristan’s voice startled us. “Are you actually wearing underwear, AC?”

AC pretended to be shocked. “I’m offended. I wouldn’t scare Lily like that.”

“I’ve seen one before, I think,” I smiled at him.

He bent his head down and leant it on my shoulder. “I know. And you’ve seen his too.
The standard bearer.” He whispered again, turning his head to my ear. “But mine’s
quite nice, really.” He stroked the line of my back that the open zipper revealed.
“Loves attention. And your elegant underwear.”

Tristan coughed. AC grinned at him. “Excuse me. Where were we? Wait Lily, let me unzip.
A little adjustment. Can we finish at the same time? Ready?” And I almost forgot what
I was doing, as he slowly unzipped his trousers, and shaking his hips very slowly,
let them fall to the ground. He was wearing short boxer briefs, with a wide black
elastic band at the top. The silky fabric didn’t leave anything to the imagination.
He hadn’t been lying about liking the underwear. Or any of it.

AC picked up his trousers with a flourish and laid them on the chair. “Lily. You waited.
That’s all right, now you’ve got both of us watching you. That’s better, isn’t it?”
He grinned.

Before either of them could say anything, or I could think, I dipped my shoulders
forward. The dress cascaded off my breasts, and slid to the floor. I stood there for
a moment, before I bent forward from the waist, being careful not to step on it with
my high heels, and picked it up with one finger, letting it trail over the arm of
the chair. Then I looked up at them. A wave of hair half covered my eyes. I could
still see them. They were watching. Very intently.

AC cleared his throat. “Nice. Very nice. I think that deserves a present. Come sit
by me.” He lifted up the bottle again.

Tristan groaned. “Bloody hell, AC. It’s not subtle, is it?”

“No one has to do anything with it, Tristan. Do they, Lily?” I shook my head. I felt
slightly dazed. AC took my hand and I sat next to him, one of his beautifully shaped
thighs touching mine. He really did have a nice body, compact, curved, but strong.
It was an intriguing combination. “Now come sit next to us. We won’t even make you
undress.”

Tristan got up from the chair, and sat next to me on the sofa. The fabric of his suit
tickled one leg, and AC’s soft skin was warm against the other. Without any enhancements,
I was already a lot more awake. AC seemed relaxed, but in that watchful way he had.
I knew he was assessing the mood. He was a lot like Tristan in that way. I just wondered
what he would decide.

Then Tristan jumped up. “I feel overdressed. And hot.” He winked at AC.

“I knew you would. Come on Lily, let’s sit back and watch the master at work. No one
does it quite like he does.”

“Take off his clothes, you mean.”

“That too. Come on, Tris. Make us suffer.”

Tristan was standing where we were, his hands holding open the suit jacket, like he
was opening a curtain. He had already started, but when AC said that, he stopped,
and shrugged off the jacket, and tossed it across the room. “Stiffer,” he murmured.
Facing us, he undid each button, until the shirt was hanging loose, a rectangle of
skin between, that line of hair dipping down below the waistband of his trousers.
Then slowly turning around, he dropped the shirt so that his arms were tensed and
straight, the muscles in his back framing his spine, his whole body taut, while the
shirt remained drawn across his hips, his clenched hands cuffed by the fabric. His
head was slightly turned away from us, and he stood there, every muscle flexed.

“Holy fucking hell,” murmured AC.

Tristan released his fists, and still with his hands behind him, pulled off each cuff,
slowly, and let the shirt fall to the floor. Still with his back to us, he then bent
forward, his head nearly to the floor, and pulled the shirt between his legs. Coming
up slowly, every muscle in his back and legs straining, his ass a perfect curve, he
finally stood up and stretched his arms over his head. The shirt followed the jacket,
thrown roughly to a corner of the room. Then he turned to face us, his hands touching
himself to find the zipper, quickly undone. The button came next, and swaying his
hips from side to side, the trousers slipped along his hips, his thighs, his calves,
to the floor. He threw them on the chair. He’d already taken off his shoes at the
door, as he usually did, so he was now barefoot and completely naked except for a
pair of black briefs. He then pulled them out, away from his body, and looking down,
snapped them back into place, one hand sliding slowly over what was covered, while
making sure that nothing escaped. They were just small enough that it was a possibility.

“I thought these were bigger,” he said. “I might as well not have them on.” He had
an evil expression on his face.

AC drank some more champagne, then coughed, offering me the bottle. “No,” and his
voice came out a little strangely, “I like to suffer. Lily? Did he pass the test?”

It felt like I had to speak over my beating heart. “Yes, I think so.” Everything hurt,
just a little bit.

“Tristan, that means you can come and sit with us.” Deliberately, Tristan walked in
front of us, his hips at eye level, his tight briefs molded to his body, inches away.
AC’s hand gripped my leg. I shivered. “He’s good,” AC murmured. “Here Tristan, drink
some champagne, you deserve it.”

Tristan took the bottle, drank, then looked down at AC’s hand. He placed one of his
own on my other leg, and stroked it gently. “Nice legs.” He leaned over and kissed
me. I had the distinct impression he was enjoying the distress he was pretending to
ignore. He leaned back, his stomach fluttering with his breathing. AC shut his eyes.
Tristan sat up, every muscle flexing, and picking up the bottle, stretched back again.
“That actually was a fun party. Much better than I thought it would be.”

AC didn’t answer. His hand was making a little circle on the inside of my knee with
his left hand, his body turned towards us. He put his other arm around me and met
Tristan’s hand coming from the other side. I could feel them lock their fingers together,
hands warm on my skin. And we sat there, saying nothing, feeling the line we weren’t
going to cross coming a little bit closer.

* * *

The room was filled with bright sunshine when a loud knocking came from the front
door. We’d all finally crawled into bed last night, this morning, at the point when
the tension of keeping everything at bay and the excitement of the day and night had
finally hit all of us. I barely remembered lying down. Tristan looked around blearily,
saw me on one side and AC on the other, and crawled out the end of the bed to get
a bathrobe, and see who wanted something. I looked at the iPhone dock the hotel so
thoughtfully provided. 12:30 p.m. Not too bad then. I sat up, and felt the beginnings
of a headache.

I could hear Tristan talking to someone, and the sound of a tray being put down. Two
trays. China clinking together. Then the door closed, but there was still talking,
which grew louder. Tristan opened the door, and there, standing behind him, an amused
smile on his face, was Trevor. “Good morning Lily. AC. Here you are. There’s breakfast
out there—when you’re ready, of course.”

I glanced over at AC. He was sitting up in bed. “Hello Trevor. Did you bring us coffee?
Bless you.”

“Full-service. However, it’s my breakfast as well. I haven’t been awake that long
myself. I hope you didn’t think I was out running, or something equally ridiculous.
Lily, there are some berries out here for you.”

“Thank you, Trevor. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, my dear.”

He left, leaving the door slightly ajar. But a moment later, he was back, his eyes
gazing at us through the half open door. A thin smile animated his face.

“And we should probably check out at some point. Not to mention all of us leaving
together, slightly more discreet, n’est-ce-pas? See you in a minute.”

AC laughed, as he climbed out of bed, stretching first one arm then the other. “And
I thought I was unsubtle.” He walked to the bathroom, and gave me a little wave before
shutting the door. My eyes followed him. I couldn’t help it. Whether it was the memory
of the night before, or curiosity, I couldn’t tell.

But we had just woken up together. Again.

* * *

When I came out in my bathrobe, Tristan and Trevor were sitting at the table, coffee
in front of them. When I came in, Trevor picked up the paper. “A nice picture of the
three of you this morning. ‘Tristan Hunter and AC Clark, formerly of Devised, with
Lily Taylor. Hunter was nominated for best alternative album last night.’ A good picture
of the three of you. Although there is another one in this paper. ‘Hunter and Clark,
the bromance continues.’” Trevor coughed, and drank a sip of coffee. “Bromance? Is
that what they’re calling it these days? I thought it was fucking…” He trailed off.
“Lily. Come sit down. I’m back off to London today. Leave these jokers, and come with
me.”

I smiled at him. “Trevor. For you, anything. But I thought we were going to an island,
or a small country somewhere. Aren’t I your Evita?”

“This is why you must never underestimate this one, Tristan. A long memory. Even longer
than…my trip back. But I will see the three of you in London. One week? Two weeks?
More rehearsing.” He went back to his paper. “Music.”

Tristan laughed. “Yeah, we’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

Trevor grimaced. “I’m counting on it. And don’t bring the comestibles. You’re getting
careless.” He pulled the vial out of his pocket. “Found this on your table when I
came in.”