Page 39 of Not Your Golden Boy

It was bliss.

He glanced at his phone. His gut clenched for a second when he saw a text waiting, but when he saw it was from Harry, he blew out a breath of relief and smiled.

“Just checking to see how recording is going,” Harry’s message read.

Nikky pushed away from the wall and headed in the direction of the studio, smile still on his face. “It’s okay,” he typed back. “More of the same. Charlotte likes my music and is advocating for it. I just told Albion I wanted to record my own songs or nothing at all.”

A knot formed in his stomach as he hit send, then walked on. He still couldn’t believe he’d done that. It still felt like the sky might fall, but he’d actually put his foot down about something he wanted. Maybe he was actually learning and growing after all.

It had everything to do with Harry.

His phone buzzed, and he raised it to find Harry had replied with, “Wow! Good for you. And what did Albion say to that?”

Nikky huffed a laugh and typed back, “I don’t know, I ran away before he reacted. Brave but not so brave.”

Three dots appeared right away, then, “Incredibly fucking brave. I’m proud of you.”

Those words shouldn’t have made Nikky giddy, and horny, the way they did. He wasn’t the anxious teen desperate to stay in a place that felt almost like home anymore. He was a grown-ass adult who shouldn’t need an even more grown-ass man to validate his emotions.

But fuck, it felt good.

“Thanks,” he replied, then, “Drew and Lee are back in town and want to go out for supper tonight. Is that okay?”

He looked at his message, then deleted “Is that okay?” and sent it as a statement, not an ask for permission.

Harry replied quickly. “Sounds good. Have fun.”

Nikky grinned at his phone as he reached the studio and strode across the lobby. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him to man up after all.

On second thought, he hated that term. Man up. There was nothing wrong with him being a sensitive soul. That didn’t make him less of a man. He was sure Harry would agree with him.

“Hey, Nikky,” Belinda, the receptionist manning the studio’s front desk, called to him as he passed. “I’ve got a message for you.”

Nikky stopped, brow going up in surprise. “A message?” He veered toward the desk as Belinda held up a piece of paper.

“Just a phone message that came in not more than fifteen minutes ago,” she said, handing the paper over to him with a glittering smile.

Nikky smiled back as he took the paper. It was one thing to have random fans make heart-eyes at him on the street, but it felt entirely different to know Belinda, someone he’d interacted with since arriving in London, evidently liked him. Random, unearned adoration was unsettling, but smiles from people who knew at least part of the real him were a balm to his soul.

“Thanks.” He saluted her, then headed for the hall that would take him back to the recording booth, where he could make his intended call to Drew to set up dinner plans in peace.

He froze halfway across the lobby as he opened the paper.

“Stuart Holberg. The Savoy. Room 1208. 7:00.”

Nikky nearly threw up. The message would seem innocent to anyone else, to Belinda, but Nikky saw beyond that. It was a threat as clear as day.

He crumpled the paper in his fist, then threw it in the trash can just inside the entrance to the hall. Even then, he picked up his pace and practically ran to the safety of the recording booth.

Once there, he pulled out his phone again. For a second, he stared at it, wanting to call Harry. His finger was already hovering over Harry’s contact info when he changed his mind.

“No,” he said quietly, sitting on the stool he’d been using while recording. “You can’t go running to Harry for every little problem in your life.”

His heart disagreed with him. It remembered the things he’d seen at the club and longed for the kind of connection with Harry where he could hand absolutely everything about his life into Harry’s trusted hands. They were a long way away from that point, though, if it was even what he truly wanted and not just another way to hide from the things that overwhelmed him.

Instead, he did what he’d said he’d do all along and called Drew.

“Hey,” Drew answered, obviously in a good mood. Upbeat music played in the background, and a few people were talking in the distance. “What’s up?”