Page 48 of Silver Sweet

Eliot smiles. “Is that him?”

Holy shit. I’m stressed. I refocus on Eliot as I make my way to the door. “I’ll figure this out. Just go kill your audition,” I tell him. “Merde.” I sayshitin French, wishing him good luck. It’s like the superstitious “break a leg” colloquialism.Though Eliot isn’t nearly as superstitious as I really am. He will pretend to be for shits and giggles sometimes, but he believes in curses about as much as our dad believes in the Easter Bunny.

We hang up just as I open the front door.

Phoenix is…tall.

Don’t know why I forgot that.

But he stares down at me. Chunky black headphones are hooked around his neck, and what looks like a motorcycle jacket is already off and folded over his arm. The muscles inhis jaw tic like he’s gritting his teeth. I shouldn’t find that even microscopically attractive.

I swing the door open wider before I get a semi from staring at this dude’sface. “Welcome,” I greet, waving him inside.

Phoenix doesn’t enter.

He turns his head to the long, carpeted hallway beside him. Deep red walls, dim lighting, and a shiny elevator all exist outside of apartment 2166. “Fancy,” he says so tightly I can’t tell if it’s a dig or just an observation. “You always full-body cavity search your guests?”

I’m guessing security went hard on him in the lobby. “Only the ones I really like.”

“Then you must be in love with me.” His eyes travel over my face, likely reading my abruptconcern.

“Wait, all they were supposed to do was take your ID and check your bag. If you had one.”

He cocks his head, looking me over again. “Yeah, they did more than that. Patted me down.” He motions his finger from his face to his feet. “Pockets overturned. Shirt came off. They asked if I was wearing a wire. I asked if they wanted me to bend over and cough too.”

Anger torches my face. “I will be having harsh words with them.”Right fucking now.I’m not even an inch into the doorway when Phoenix pushes my chest, keeping me inside the apartment.

“Don’t worry, they didn’t do any psychological damage. It was, at most, irritating to be delayed coming up here.” He studies me. “I thought you must’ve asked them to strip me down.”

“Did not do that.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m betting my two oldest brothers told the building security to be extra thorough with you.”

“They knew I was coming here?” He seems unconcerned. Like it’d be fine to have a run-in with Charlie or Beckett. He is severely underestimating how this would play out.

“No, but they probably just gave security your name in case you ever showed up.”

“Overprotective and mistrusting, got it.” He arches his brows at me. “You going to let me in, nepo baby?”

I’ve been blocking the doorway ever since I tried to exit.

Moving back, I gesture him inside.

Phoenix takes a couple of steps through the threshold, his intense blue-ringed brown eyes flitting around the room. My anxiety hasn’t tamped down.

He’s not the first person I’ve brought to my apartment. I’m used to the curious gazes around the space as if they’re cataloging every detail to post on a fandom site. The collection of Shakespeare titles on the towering built-in bookcases. The lack of TV, fridge magnets, and family pics—the latter relegated to our rooms. The new potted fern (thanks, Ben) by the dual coffee and espresso machine. I don’t usually care about the hard-core observations. Like bottom-barrel couldn’t care less.

So why the fuck is my heart racing as I watch him inspect every inch of the kitchen and open living room with his eyes?

“Like what you see?” I ask, trying not to sound on edge or suggestive or reallyanything. Let this go well, please. For my sanity.For the band.

Phoenix’s gaze returns to mine. “It’s really clean. You have a maid for that?” He sounds more serious than snide.

“We have a cleaning service. But we only use them biweekly. On the daily, we actually clean up ourselves. I’ve held a sponge and scrubbed a toilet before. Shocking, I know.” I pass the white marble counters and cut through the living room, heading to my hallway on the left.

Phoenix follows, and I walk backward to see him checking out the faux-leather pull-out couch and the glitzy black chandelier in the vaulted ceiling. But his gaze lingers on the expansive floor-length window.

The million-dollar view showcases glittering New York at its most glamorous. The sun already fallen. Lights sparkle like thousands of dancing flames in the night. I’m hung on the awe in his eyes, and I intake a staggered breath.

Trying not to slow, I round the couch. His feet naturally keep moving toward me. His eyes finally drag away from the view when I turn toward my door.