Zerbrowski got us back on track. That a problem? No, I said, and moved my head a fraction down my pillow so I could breathe in the scent of Nathaniel's neck. I could feel it touching things that should never have been touched. It was a step up that he'd had the techs wait for me.
What did that mean? A good night? Good tips? Or did Nathaniel do lap dances when he wasn't on stage? I'd never asked. That arm curled around me, almost reflexively, as if he just couldn't help himself. There was a look I couldn't quite read on his face, and this time I fought not to read his mind. You won't like it, he said.
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