Love Me Tenor

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Love Me Tenor Page 25

by Annabeth Albert


  “Been there.” Carter reached out and put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, and it took a whole lot of Jalen’s restraint not to knock it loose. That should be me. His anger toward Trevor was loosening, replaced with the need to hold him tight, try to absorb some of the pain in his words.

  “And when I got the diabetes diagnosis, it hit me that I could die, and they’d never really know the real me. So I came out to them. And I didn’t expect them to throw me a parade, but I never expected them to completely cut me off either. But they did. And I didn’t want to believe it any more than I wanted to believe the diabetes diagnosis, so I buried it under a mountain of anger and hate. Mainly hate for myself. When I got here—it wasn’t you guys I was mad at. It was me. I hated myself. I hated myself for not being good enough for my family.”

  “You’re too good for them,” Jalen said. It wasn’t really his turn to speak, but sue him, he couldn’t hear the naked pain in Trevor’s voice and not respond.

  “Maybe.” Trevor shook his head, still not meeting Jalen’s eyes. “I didn’t want to trust you guys when I first got here. Didn’t want to believe what we had could be real.” He raised his chin slightly, cautious eyes meeting Jalen’s. “Couldn’t believe you guys would want me as I was. My family didn’t. Guys at school didn’t.”

  “They’re idiots,” Carson said.

  Kaitlyn gave a delicate sniff.

  “We wanted you,” Jalen said, not dropping Trevor’s gaze, the emphasis on we because he wasn’t quite brave enough to say I.

  “But I didn’t trust it. So I was careful not to show you everything. To hold back on my singing. To not tell you about the diabetes. Not to trust you when I got sick. But somehow, the real me kept slipping out. And you didn’t push me away.” He was looking right at Jalen now, gaze strong and steady, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

  “The real you is pretty awesome,” Jalen whispered, not caring if the cameras could hear or not. They didn’t matter. Kaitlyn didn’t matter. The other guys didn’t matter. All that mattered was them and this moment between them.

  “The worst was yesterday. You guys stuck by me when I was sick even though I lied. But then my brother showed up and . . .” Trevor’s voice broke a bit. “I didn’t trust you guys. And I’d wanted for so long to be a part of my family, to be good enough for them. I thought maybe this time . . .”

  Carter patted Trevor again, and Jalen tried to be glad that someone was comforting Trevor.

  He failed.

  He wanted to be the one touching Trevor. Making him feel better.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Jalen said gruffly. Maybe too gruffly, but damn it, his arms weren’t as long as they needed to be, and his heart was far too raw.

  “I really do.” Trevor’s voice wavered even as his gaze didn’t. I want you back, his eyes said. “And I’m in this to win it with you guys because you’ve already seen me at my worst. Now I want you to see me at my best.”

  “Do I really have to follow this?” Carter waved a hand in front of his face, and Jalen couldn’t tell how much was affect and how much was genuine emotion. His own emotions were torn between turning cartwheels and spinning in circles.

  “I want to be a part of something with you guys. I’ve lost my family, but you give me hope that maybe someday I’ll find one again.” Trevor managed to sound both painfully young and resolute at the same time.

  I want to be your family. The words refused to leave Jalen’s throat. Jalen wasn’t as brave as Trevor—hell, entire military battalions weren’t as brave as Trevor was in that moment, striping himself bare for the camera.

  No.

  Not for the camera.

  Trevor’s apology wasn’t for the camera. It wasn’t for ratings or their fans. It was for Jalen. Each word Trevor spoke was for him. For them.

  “I lost my family, too,” Carter said, all choked up. “And I want to win this with you. With all of you.” He looked at Carson next to him. “I want to give hope to all the kids out there like us whose parents have stopping giving a shit—oops.”

  “Keep going. We’ll bleep it out.” Kaitlyn sniffed again and her eyes were red.

  “Trevor and I aren’t the only ones out there with messed-up families. And I think our group could be like a family. If we’d let it. And we could remind people that they can find family wherever they least expect it.”

  “I’m in,” Carson said simply. He turned to address Carter directly. “I’m . . . I’ve got some stuff to work out. But you’ve been my best friend since we were fourteen. You’ve always been my family. And I want you two”—he indicated Trevor and Jalen with a wave of his hand—“to be family, too. I want to win this for us. For all of us. And like Carter said, I want to win this for our fans, too. The people out there who believe in us.”

  Carter looked away at that. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in us,” he said softly. There was definitely some work there to be done, but this was the most genuine Jalen had seen either of them. If there’s hope for them . . .

  “And how about you, Jalen?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “I don’t want to win,” he said.

  “What?” Four voices all snapped at him and he held up a hand.

  “This has never been a contest for me. But what I’ve found here is I love making music . . .” His voice faltered. He sounded like a programmed robot. His eyes found Trevor’s. Just talk to Trevor. Not the camera. Not the other guys. Just tell Trevor. “I used to sing when I was a kid. My grandmamma said I had an angel voice. And I believed her and I sang and sang, said I was going to be like Usher when I grew up. But then some bad . . . crap happened in my life. And I didn’t let myself have that dream no more. But then I met you. And I remembered how to dream.”

  And that was it. He was done. No more words. His sinuses burned.

  “I’m sorry,” Trevor said, the words seeming wrenched from some place deep inside him, raw and jagged. “I let you down.”

  You couldn’t. Not ever. Jalen tried to tell him with his eyes because his lips were fresh out of words.

  “I spent so much time missing home, I didn’t even notice when I found a new one,” Trevor said, his voice breaking.

  “Oh sh—shoot. Now you’re making me tear up,” Carson said.

  “So how about now, Jalen?” Kaitlyn asked him. “Do you want to win it now?”

  “I could sing with you forever,” he said directly to Trevor. The other two were nice and all, and yeah, he liked singing with them, too, but it was Trevor he needed to reach. “And I want to win this so we can keep making music together. I think this is what I’m supposed to do with my life, but I can’t do it without you.”

  Trevor held out his hand, stretching across the other two. Jalen captured it in his.

  “And cut! Perfect!” Arrow said from next to the camerawoman.

  Screw you. Screw the cameras. He wasn’t letting go of Trevor anytime soon.

  “This was the best idea I’ve ever had.” Kaitlyn dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “You guys were brilliant. I can’t wait to see the footage.”

  I can’t wait to live this life. “Are we done?” he asked.

  “Yes. For now. We’ll need . . .” She started into some qualifications about their trip to DC and the upcoming week. Jalen would sacrifice both pinkies for a Fast Forward button. His eyes never left Trevor’s and their hands stayed linked as she droned on about schedule.

  “Um. Guys? You’re adorbs and all, but I want out,” Carter said.

  “Oops.” Trevor laughed nervously as he let go of Jalen’s hand. Jalen finally looked up and realized Kaitlyn was done talking. Finally. They could get off these stools, get out from under the lights.

  He sidestepped Carter and Carson, who were standing in front of each other like blind dates feeling each other out, and Jalen didn’t have time for that nonsense—he needed Trevor now. He practically yanked Trevor from his stool, tugged him into the hall.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Ssh.” Jalen�
�s head was still reeling, but his feet knew exactly where they were headed as they left the studio room. There was a small unisex bathroom on this floor—the one Carter and Carson treated as a personal breakroom. The one he tended to avoid for exactly that reason.

  But not today.

  Today it was the best place ever because it was close and it had a lock, something he used as soon as he pulled Trevor into the space. He didn’t bother with the lights. He didn’t need light. He didn’t need a bed or the perfect place. He didn’t need perfect. He just needed Trevor.

  His mouth found Trevor’s, and then Trevor was the light and the perfection and everything Jalen had missed for hours and hours and lifetimes.

  “Let me in,” he whispered against Trevor’s mouth.

  “I will,” Trevor whispered back, and neither of them was talking about lips and tongues, even as their mouths plundered each other, lips claiming, tongues seeking.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Trevor chanted as Jalen’s mouth traced his jawline. Trevor could probably go a couple of weeks without getting a full beard, but he had a downy stubble that prickled Jalen’s tongue.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Jalen whispered. “I should have come to you last night.”

  “I should have trusted you more—”

  “No, you should have trusted you more.” Jalen kissed right under his ear. “I don’t want to make your decisions for you. I just want you to trust your gut. And tell me what you’re feeling. That’s what hurt. You shut me out.”

  “I was scared.” Trevor’s lips rasped against Jalen’s cheek.

  “Me too.” Their mouths met again, slower this time, less urgent, more tender. The room was still dark, but there was so much light between them.

  I love you. Jalen’s lips tried to say what his voice still couldn’t.

  “I love you,” Trevor whispered against his lips. Message received. “And I know it’s too soon—”

  “It’s not.” Jalen silenced him with another kiss. “Me too.”

  “You too? That’s only slightly more romantic than ‘ditto.’” Trevor laughed, his whole body trembling in Jalen’s embrace.

  “Fine. Love you, too.” Jalen felt honest to God like the bird tattooed on his chest was about to take flight and take the rest of him with it. “Scared.”

  “Me too.” Trevor kissed him. “Let’s be scared together.”

  “Oh yeah.” Jalen’s body knew exactly what to do with all the fear and joy racing through him. He pushed Trevor into the wall, knees bending so their groins aligned. He ground hard, layers of fabric be damned.

  “Thought you hated public sex?” Trevor whispered, each word a laugh.

  “This isn’t public sex.” Jalen couldn’t stop the motion of his hips or the urge to kiss between words. “It’s just us.”

  And it was. All the objections he’d had to them doing something like this had everything to do with the people they used to be—not the couple they were together.

  Oh holy heck, they were actually going to do this. Jalen’s hands were insistent on Trevor’s hips, pulling them together, lips nuzzling Trevor’s neck hard enough that Trevor was pretty sure they were about to break his no-visible-marks rule. And Trevor didn’t care.

  Break the rules. Break all of them. None of it mattered because they were together again, familiar tastes and scents filling his senses.

  He didn’t need light to find his way to his knees, to open Jalen’s pants, to give his mouth exactly what it craved—but his spine stayed stapled to the wall, hands clinging to Jalen’s shoulders, body totally content to see what direction Jalen had in mind.

  Because it was new. Every bit of this was uncharted territory.

  “Need . . .”

  “Want . . .”

  They said it at the same moment, hands grappling with zippers, and then they were skin to skin, both of their hands wrapped around their dicks, creating a sweaty channel for them to rut against. Any embarrassment he’d once felt over their difference in size seemed light years ago. They were perfect together—from the smooth hard length of Jalen’s cock to thrust against to the frantic shared kisses. They hadn’t done it like this before—both driving, both in charge—no one leading, no one following. Just skin and kisses and frantic motion and want-you-nows whispered between them.

  “Gonna . . .”

  “Me too . . .”

  “Love . . .”

  “. . . You.”

  Their bodies finished each other’s motions as surely as their words finished each other’s thoughts, both lapsing into pants and groans at the same moment. Love you. Those words seemed to lace every pant, every motion with new meaning. The sentiment should have scared him, but instead it made his chest bubble like the champagne at the premiere party. He’d never been this open with another person, and that connection made every kiss feel like a promise.

  “Ssh.”

  “You.”

  “Don’t . . . make . . . laugh.”

  “Wanna . . . come.”

  And then they were climaxing together, and it was impossible to say who went first, just that they were laughing and coming and sputtering and shaking against each other. It wasn’t a coming apart like so many orgasms were—not a shattering as much as a gathering—coming together. Strengthening. Sealing. Confirming everything they had together.

  “Oh fuck, wardrobe is going to hate us,” Jalen said as he blindly fumbled for the paper towel dispenser on the wall, then handed Trevor a big wad of towels.

  “We’ll bury our stuff in the bottom of the laundry barrel.” Trevor kissed his cheek. “It was worth the mess right?”

  “Totally.” Jalen kissed him back, lips soft and gentle and almost enough to get Trevor up for round two. This was worth everything, but as the pleasure haze retreated, doubts crept back in. Could love be enough to keep them together if they didn’t pull off the win?

  Chapter Twenty-three

  @NextDirectionShow Been a crazy week of rehearsals! Good luck in DC. Stand Out! @StandOutTrevor @StandOutJalen @StandOutCarson @StandOutCarter

  @StandOutTrevor Thanks so much for everyone who has sent good wishes! Feeling better and ready to SING!

  @StandOutCarson Hey Vancouver Airport we are in you! DC, get ready for us!

  “I’m pretty sure hamster cages would have more room,” Carter groused as they found their seats on the plane.

  “You don’t get to complain,” Trevor said, shoving past him. He should be the one complaining. Jalen had the window and Carter the aisle, which gave Trevor the middle. Carson was right across the aisle. Whatever. At least he was next to Jalen. That was all Trevor really cared about.

  “We’re in a long line for take-off, folks, so sit tight,” the pilot came over the loudspeaker, announcing another delay. They’d already had a long wait to board.

  “Did anyone buy food at the airport?” Carson asked. “I meant to buy a candy bar or something and forgot.”

  “I’ve got two eggs and some vegetables catering packed for me for my midmorning snack,” Trevor said. “You could have one of the eggs.”

  “Eww.” Carson made a face. “And man, you are totally catering’s newest pet. No offense. Not sure whether to be jealous or pity you.”

  “Hey, I liked my dinner better last night.” After a long day of rehearsals getting ready to fly to DC early this morning, it had been nice to sit down to a meal of plain broiled chicken and vegetables with some buttered noodles while everyone else gorged on fettuccine Alfredo and garlic bread. He wasn’t sure exactly what Dawn had said to the craft service people, but the lead catering person seemed to take it as a personal point of pride that he have something balanced at each meal and a supply of healthy snacks.

  Yet another piece of proof that he probably should have been honest from the start. No one complained about his food needs, and his bank account was grateful not to be purchasing an endless supply of meal replacement bars anymore. And according to the nutrition book in his backpack, those weren’t the best thing for
him anyway.

  “I kind of hoped we were getting first class,” Carter said, stowing his laptop bag under the seat.

  “Show doesn’t have that kind of budget.” Jalen laughed. “You gotta earn the star treatment.”

  The show was a weird mix of bare-bones budget and splurges. Dawn had driven him to a doctor’s appointment yesterday morning. Not that medical care should be a splurge, but Trevor still hadn’t worked out his insurance situation, let alone the international healthcare system.

  “Don’t worry,” she’d said, waving off his worries of how to pay.

  When he’d pressed her, she’d admitted that Michelin had said to have the bills sent to him. Great. Another thing to feel weirdly guilty about. And Michelin had flown out yesterday morning, so he hadn’t even had a chance to say thank you.

  The new endocrinologist tweaked the medicine regimen Dr. Cho had given him based on his last few days of blood sugar readings and pronounced him fit to go sing in DC, which was why Dawn had insisted on the appointment before they left.

  They’d made a few videos, but this would be their first public appearance since the festival, and Trevor would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. They were part of a huge lineup for the Fourth of July, and they only got two songs, one of which was a patriotic medley and the other an overplayed Olympic theme song, but they’d need to sell the heck out of their limited chance for national exposure.

  “Hey, look how many likes Trevor’s update about the doctor’s appointment got,” Carter said, flipping on his phone. “Another few days and we’ll move ahead of Heat Loss for total followers.”

  “Ohmigod! Ohmigod!” A teenage girl swirled in the seat in front of them. “I thought it might be you! I’m the biggest fan of Next Direction. I follow all the groups.”

  “Really?” Another girl, this one in front of Carson, also turned around. “Me too! And it is! It’s Stand Out!”

  Being recognized on a plane filled with Vancouver residents after filming in Vancouver for a month shouldn’t be such a big deal, but Trevor’s chest still puffed up.

 

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