Starting From Zero (Starting From Series Book 1)

by Lane Hayes

  “You mean about being bi?”

  “Anything they wouldn’t have approved of…and yeah, my sexuality was a big one. The unspoken rule was, if it’s uncomfortable, we didn’t talk about it. They never knew about any male lovers I had, just women they assumed were girlfriends…and my ex-wife.”

  “Did they like her?”

  “Yes. They didn’t know her well, but they liked the idea of me settling down and eventually having a family of my own. Mandy and I were married for ten years. All but one year was for show. She was bi and in a relationship with a woman. Both of them were high-profile movie execs. I was bi and mostly single. We were each other’s beards at a time when coming out was career suicide.”

  “Even in LA?”

  “Yep. A lot has changed in the last twenty-five years, Jus. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a relationship where my partner has been able or willing to say, ‘That’s the guy who’s important to me.’ ”

  “That sucks.”

  I shrugged. “It does, but I got used to it. And I like my own company just fine.”

  “You sound like me.”

  “The difference is, you’re younger and braver. You’ve come of age at a time where equality, social justice, and RuPaul are mainstream topics. It may be a struggle still, but the conversations are out in the open now. That wasn’t the case when I was your age. And I really hate how old that just made me sound,” I said with a laugh.

  “You’re not old. You don’t act old. I think it’s because you’re creative. You push yourself to see things through other people’s eyes. We wouldn’t be out here freezing our asses off if you took the easy way out and just wrote the same tired shit every time.”

  “All right, all right. I get the hint. Let’s go.” I rubbed his arm and then shifted to stand.

  Justin grabbed the bottom of my jacket and pulled me back, so I landed half on top of him with my leg draped over his thigh. “Stay like this.”

  “I’m sitting on your lap.”

  “Not quite…but I like it. You always hold on to me, let me hold you for a minute.”

  The sentiment touched me in a way I couldn’t easily explain. I wanted to go home and write down how I felt and why. Then I wanted to twist my feelings into words I could give to someone else so the emotions didn’t choke the life out of me and demand attention I wasn’t sure I could give. But when I tried to move and reclaim my spot beside him, he tightened his hold and shook his head. My rigid posture slowly relaxed as he talked about practice…Johnny’s awesome guitar riff, Tegan and Ky’s perfect rhythmic timing. He was seemingly unaware of my turbulent headspace. And after a while, so was I.

  8

  GRAY

  According to Seb, the studio wasn’t happy with the legal mumbo jumbo required to potentially include Zero on the soundtrack. In other words, they were stalling. I’d been around the business a long time and had become an expert at calling out bullshit. I’d bet big bucks they’d drafted a contract to Seb’s specifications fit for an unknown artist and were waiting for him to give in. Justin told me he’d received an initial letter of intent inviting him to cowrite a song. It wasn’t a contract, though. It was a lure. Something to let him know they were interested and willing to pay a one-time commission. The sum was peanuts comparatively speaking, but a high five figures was a lot of money to a guy struggling to make ends meet. Seb couldn’t understand why he insisted on bringing the band into the equation.

  “If he just signed as a solo artist, he could pick up his paycheck and get his band started in style. Why is he being so difficult about this?” Seb griped.

  “He’s seizing opportunity. You should approve, Dad,” Charlie commented. “I, for one, think you should give his band a shot.”

  Seb furrowed his brow in agitation. “This is a big fucking movie. I don’t want any mediocre BS associated with it.”

  “But you signed Xena,” Charlie countered. “She’s not special. She just looks the part. Gray, pass the ketchup, please.”

  I slid the ketchup across the island and groaned when Charlie liberally doused his french fries. “You just killed those.”

  “No, I preserved them for me. I’m not sharing,” Charlie said before casting a wary gaze between his dad and me. “And I care about the Zero because…I’m going to be their manager.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I want to use my social media platform to create a new brand-slash-band. Zero.”

  Seb gaped at his son, then turned to me. “Did you know about this?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “Charlie is a grown man, Seb. It’s his story to tell, his project to take on, and frankly, I think he’s doing a good job of it.”

  “Oh. So this is already happening?”

  “Well, yes. Zero practices here a couple of days a week. And they’ve started recording a few songs. I sent you the tracks. Didn’t you get them?” Charlie asked, wiping his hands on his napkin nervously.

  “No. I didn’t. I received something from a C. Robertson. I didn’t listen to it because I didn’t know my son had anything to do with this. And since when is Robertson your last name?”

  “It seemed fitting since Gray is…involved,” Charlie said, glancing sideways at me. “Why aren’t you eating? You love In-N-Out.”

  “I already ate. I didn’t know you two were coming over,” I replied, sneaking a fry from his plate. “And bringing drama with you.”

  “Should we have called first?” Charlie asked.

  “Why would you do that?” I made a face as I reached for another fry.

  “In case you had extracurricular company.” Charlie’s deliberate intonation and carefully chosen words had the same effect as a fire alarm ringing in the middle of a busy day. Everyone wanted to ignore it, but it just got louder and louder.

  I flicked Charlie’s ear and shot an irritated look at him. He had his dad’s eyes and they shared a few mannerisms, but that was where the family resemblance ended. Charlie was slight, and his halo of blond curls gave him a deceptively angelic look while his dad was tall, lean, and looked like trouble.

  I’d wondered when this conversation was going to come up. When I’d told Justin I had no family, I hadn’t exactly been honest. Seb and Charlie were my family. Not by blood, but they were my chosen people and had been a major part of my life since Charlie was a toddler. They both had keys to my house and knew all of my security codes and a few important passwords. And vice versa. Charlie might not look like his dad, but he had a talent for finding innovative ways to get what he wanted, and he’d definitely inherited Seb’s mischievous streak.

  “None of your business, Char.”

  “Hmm. I don’t want to get in the way of a booty call. Nothing throws a man off their game quite like an ill-timed Donna Summer hit blasting through the speakers,” he said with a laugh before breaking into the refrain from “Last Dance.”

  I let out an amused huff, then glanced at Seb, who looked…upset. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were still”—he put his hands over Charlie’s ears and continued—“fucking him? I thought that was a one-time deal.”

  “Why would you care?” I snapped impatiently.

  “I don’t, but it’s curious that you’re fucking the guy who’s trying to screw up my project by making ridiculous demands. Jesus, Gray, he’s using you. He’s using both of you to get to me!”

  “Fuck you.”

  Charlie darted his gaze between us before landing on me. “Gasp! I was not prepared for fireworks.”

  “Then why did you bring it up?” I asked sharply.

  “Because if you’re in love with someone else, he should know.” Charlie pulled his designer bag from the barstool and hiked it over his shoulder. “Work this out, dads. Remember the children.”

  If I wasn’t pissed, I might have been amused at Charlie’s over-the-top exit and Seb’s openmouthed stare. But I was angry…at myself.
I hadn’t told either of them about Justin because I honestly wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing anymore. We had more than enough material for me to put together a sweet love song with a catchy hook I knew would do well. But I wasn’t ready to let him go, even though I knew saying nothing at all would come back to bite me. Like now.

  Seb dropped his burger on his plate and pushed away from the island before pacing into the adjoining living area. His silhouette reflected in the window. He looked handsome and commanding with his broad shoulders and tapered waist in his designer suit pants and white oxford shirt. The great room’s modern design and minimalist furniture added an element of sophistication, like his surroundings were further proof he was an important man. Except this was my house, not Seb’s. And yes, Justin was my lover, but our liaison had nothing to do with him. I put together my “You have no right” speech in my head as he stared out at the pool. But when he turned to face me, he looked…hurt. It was hard to stay angry at hurt.

  “So are you in love with him or something?”

  “Really?” I countered. “I’ve only known him for a couple of months. We’re working on—”

  “I know what you’re doing,” he whispered. He kept his eyes locked on mine for a long, uncomfortable moment. “But while you’re fucking him, you’re kind of fucking up my deal.”

  “You know, that’s almost funny. You wanted me to seduce him, Seb. You wanted me to get him on board so you could have the titillating ex-lovers’ tale you think is going to sell tickets. You didn’t count on him having a brain.”

  “If he had a brain, he’d have signed on, finished the song, and cashed the damn check already.”

  “But if he does this the way you want it, he’s a flash in the pan by Christmas. He knows it. He figured it out on his own. I didn’t put ideas in his head. He’s smart as fuck and he knows what he wants.”

  “And what does he want?”

  “A shot at the big time.”

  “So he wants to be Mick Jagger,” Seb scoffed.

  “I think he knows he’s better off being himself.”

  Seb regarded me for a moment. “This is business. It’s promotion only. Call me an asshole, but I don’t care about Xena or Justin’s future careers. That’s for their agents, managers, or their mommies to worry about. Now suddenly my son is his manager or social media guy and you—”

  “Watch it,” I warned.

  “I had one idea and it was a good one. Why do I feel I’d be fucking up my movie by doing your lover a favor?”

  “I’m not asking for anything, asshole. You’re the one who dragged me to Carmine’s. Then you enlisted Charlie’s help to lure Justin into this and—”

  “I didn’t ask you to fall in love with the guy,” he yelled.

  Silence.

  “Why do you pull that shit? It’s like you want me to feel guilty for something you did. Don’t rewrite history with me.…I wasn’t the one who left.”

  Seb gritted his teeth and balled his fists at his side. “You know why I—”

  “I do. I was there. And it was eighteen years ago, so it really doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Sometimes I wish we could do it over again.” His breath hitched as he exhaled.

  “We can’t, Seb.”

  “I know.”

  I pursed my lips and then massaged the back of my neck before meeting his gaze. He looked sad now. Defeated. And fuck. I knew that feeling all too well.

  “We like each other. Don’t make it into something it’s not. He’s not using me.”

  He shook his head as he looked away. “I want to believe that, but it’s a bit too convenient.”

  “You know, at some point we have to stop doing this. You have to let me be happy, and I have to do the same for you.”

  “I do want you to be happy,” he choked.

  “Then let go, Seb.”

  He let out a humorless half laugh and shook his head. “I can’t. I love you.”

  “I love you too. But it’s not the same. Don’t make the memory into something more than it was. The reality was hard. The thing about us is, we’ll always be together. Just not that way.”

  After a long moment, Seb rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and turned to me with a wan smile. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do for him.”

  “Don’t do it for me. Or Charlie. Listen to their recording. And then see what you can do. Like you said, it’s business. It’s not personal.”

  He nodded, then moved to the island and picked a fry from Charlie’s plate. “Poor Char. He must be so fucking sick of us.”

  I set my hand on Seb’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. “He’s tougher than he looks, and he knows we love him. I wouldn’t worry about Charlie. And don’t worry about me and you. We’re gonna be fine.”

  We sat side-by-side, eating cold fries as we let the quiet settle over us like a fresh bandage. Once it covered us completely, we shared a smile and quietly reverted back to our new version of us. Just friends.

  AFTER SEB LEFT, I locked myself in my studio, pulled my favorite Gibson from the wall, and played until my fingers bled. There was no rhyme or reason to my song choices. I played what came to me. But everything sounded like the blues. Sad, lonely, and a little bitter. When a drop of blood dripped onto the strings, I set my guitar on the stand next to the piano, licked my finger, and aimlessly tapped a tune on the keys with my free hand. And when the halting sound grated, I thought about going into the library to play a few albums and drown out the growing silence. I had everything I needed there, in languages I’d never learn. I could get lost for days.

  I put a playlist together in my head. Muddy Waters, Patsy Cline, Peter Gabriel. And somewhere in the midst of my frantic list-making, I remembered a recent conversation with Justin about “go-to songs when you’re feeling like crap.” His words, not mine. I pulled my cell from my back pocket, scrolled for his number and pushed Call.

  “ ’Lo?”

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  “Hey. Are you okay?” he asked in a groggy voice.

  “Yeah, I just—” I raked my hand through my hair and sighed. “What time is it?”

  “Um…two a.m. What’s wrong?” Silence. “Gray? Talk to me.”

  “Nothing,” I lied. “I…hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so late.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Huh? Yeah. Of course. I’m always alone.”

  “I’ll be right over. Leave the front door open,” he instructed before hanging up.

  Fifteen minutes later, Justin showed up on my doorstep. He looked tired and concerned, but he didn’t ask any questions. He opened his arms, wrapped me in a strong embrace, and held on tight. Then he led me upstairs to my bedroom, undressed and instructed me to do the same before pulling me against him. We fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, groping, sucking, and licking. His warm skin, soft lips, and the scrape of his stubbled jaw felt like a salve of sorts. His touch felt healing, maybe even empowering. Like he was replenishing strength I temporarily lacked. When he bit my bottom lip and thrust his erection alongside mine and whispered, “I need to fuck you,” I simply nodded. I needed that too.

  He reached for supplies in the nightstand drawer before crawling between my legs. He set a lubed finger on my entrance, then bent his head to swallow me whole as he gently pushed the digit inside. It wasn’t the first time he’d fingered me. He didn’t say it aloud, but I could tell he was used to topping. Every time he’d try a move that we both knew led to his dick in my ass, I’d stop him with a look. He’d back off and give me room to take over. Not tonight. I wanted…no, I needed to give someone else the reins.

  Justin added a second finger, then a third as he alternately bobbed his head on my shaft and sucked my balls. I pulled my knees against my chest and writhed until I knew I couldn’t take much more. When I tugged his hair, he released me before straddling my torso and setting the tip of his penis on my lower lip. He swiped precum from his slit and then slipped his thumb into my open mouth. I arched forwar
d and sucked wantonly…first his thumb and then his cock. Not for long, though. We were both getting too close too fast.

  He ripped open a condom and rolled it on in record time before lying beside me. I chuckled softly when he gripped himself at the base and waggled his eyebrows in wordless invitation. But I didn’t hesitate. I climbed over him, set his cock at my hole, and slowly lowered myself. I took my time. I hadn’t done this in a while, but I hadn’t forgotten that it could hurt like hell before it felt amazing. Justin rubbed the inside of my thighs and languidly stroked me while he waited for me to adjust to his girth.

  “You’re thick…so big.”

  He flashed a goofy grin and chuckled. “Gee, thanks.”

  I laughed at the playful twinkle in his eyes and felt myself begin to relax. And then I moved. The slow roll of my hips gave way to gentle rocking, back and forth, back and forth. I splayed my hands over the angel wing tattoo on his pecs before tweaking his nipples and finally letting go. I sat up tall and rode his cock like a fucking pro. There was nothing hesitant or unsure in my movement. I was with the right man doing something I loved and damn, it felt good. And when he flattened his feet on the mattress and thrust his hips in a steady upward motion, I groaned loudly and pushed his hand away so I could stroke myself as I picked up the tempo.

  “Fuck, you feel so good,” I purred, biting my bottom lip.

  “So do you, but I’m—fuck, I’m gonna come.” Justin squeezed his eyes shut and bucked his hips furiously.

  “Get on top of me. Hurry,” I commanded.

  He pulled me against him and rolled over me without losing a beat. When he lifted my right leg and kissed the inside of my calf, then gazed at me in wonder, I knew that was it for me. I clutched his ass to hold him close as I came. And Justin was right behind me. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, trembling in the aftermath.