by Lane Hayes
“You fucked him, didn’t you?”
I gasped. “Oh, my gosh. We cannot talk about sex!”
“Why not? You’re twenty-five.”
“You’re my father,” I enunciated deliberately. “And why did you ask if he’s straight?”
“I didn’t ask. You told me he was straight months ago. But if you were, um…intimate…”
I cradled my forehead in both hands as I fell into the chair. “Will it ever end?”
“Hey, lots of guys say they’re straight. I should know. I said it for years. But screwing around with a closeted coworker can be bad news if—you said clinic. Didn’t you use a condom? C’mon, Char, that’s a basic rule of the road!”
“We weren’t test-driving Chevys. We forgot the first time, but remembered the next two times. And we’ve been tested and we’ve agreed to be monogamous and…” I covered my face and bit my bottom lip. “And I cannot believe I just told you all that. This conversation has to stop.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. You can talk to me about anything, Char.”
“Really? Did you have this conversation with your dad?” I swallowed around the gross and held up my hand. “Don’t tell me. I can’t know these things.”
“Sure, you can.” He tugged at his suit pant leg before perching on the corner of his desk again. “And the answer is no. My parents didn’t know anything about me. Nothing. But I never wanted to be that kind of parent.”
“You aren’t. You overshare. And obviously I do too.” I grimaced.
“No, you don’t. You tell Gray stuff. This is the first time you’ve asked for my advice, and it’s the first time you’ve told me about a guy you’re interested in.”
The urge to go full drama on him was strong, but the note of vulnerability in his voice stopped me.
“I tell you stuff,” I insisted.
“No, you don’t. It’s all right. You’re used to going to Gray. I respect that. But you can tell me anything too, you know. I’m not gonna bite your head off.” He made a pained face before continuing, “But no condom? Jesus, Char.”
“I know. I’m not suggesting this is an excuse, but we’d both been tested recently. My trip this morning was a formality. I couldn’t access my account online, and I wanted to show him the results, so he knows I’m fine too.”
“So you guys are…together?”
I sighed heavily. “It’s new. No one really knows.”
“I’m the first?”
“Yeah.”
His grin was slow-moving, but radiant. “Cool. Well, if you want my advice…”
“No.”
“Professional advice. Not gross dad advice,” he amended with a half laugh before continuing. “Start a label, take on the rival rocker, and create something you can be proud of. And if you need help, ask for it. Seeking information isn’t a sign of a weakness in business. It means you’re serious.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
Dad shook his head as he rounded his desk. “Good. One more thing…and this is maybe the most important piece of advice I will ever give you. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Trust yourself. In your work, in your personal life. It’s something I wish I’d learned to do earlier on in my life.” His melancholy smile morphed into an intense expression. “You’re one of the most naturally gifted people I know. You can do anything, Charlie. Sky’s the limit. Remember that.”
We shared a rare father-son moment where we silently acknowledged things we couldn’t say easily. I never questioned that he loved me, but we were alike in ways that made meaningful conversations difficult. I’d inherited his chaotic energy and the compulsion to create more stress for myself than necessary. Gray was our neutralizer. We relied on him to explain each other’s quirks when looking in a mirror either seemed like work or was just too painful. So yeah…this was nice. And when one of the people you admired most in the world told you they believed in you, anything seemed possible.
8
Ky
The first time I stepped onstage with an instrument was in a junior high talent show. I played an acoustic version of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” on a battered hand-me-down guitar. I was high as a kite that day, so the details were fuzzy, but I think I’d lost a bet and signing up for the dork show was part of the deal. I’d mastered a few basic chords to impress my dad and I practiced nonstop. If I wasn’t on my skateboard, I had a guitar in my hand. There was no way I was going to bomb in front of the whole damn school. Of course, my dad didn’t come, but one of my friends’ parents recorded it and put it on YouTube for me when they found out I’d joined Zero.
Justin, Tegan, and Johnny laughed when I showed it to them. We had a lengthy discussion about our music “firsts” and agreed that the physical act of walking onstage stood out. I didn’t remember anything about the song, but the rush of butterflies and the general feeling of excitement-induced nausea still came over me before every show. Tonight was no different.
Not true. Tonight was worse than usual. My hands were sweaty and my heart raced like I’d just hopped off a treadmill. The weird thing was that I’d been fine until Charlie walked backstage. He sailed into the room with his ubiquitous man bag draped across his body and a sunny smile on his face, looking like he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. The contrast of his khakis, penny loafers, and fitted floral button-down shirt with our ripped jeans and dark T-shirts was almost laughable. It looked like one of us was in the wrong place, but it didn’t feel that way. In spite of the sudden spike of butterflies, I sensed we all fit. Charlie and Zero, Charlie and me.
I couldn’t look at him without thinking of what I wanted to do him. Or hell, what we’d just done. Two hours ago, I fucked him in his garage. And damn, it was hot. We had time before tonight’s show to grab dinner, so the guys decided to order in and have a mini pre-party at Justin and Gray’s. Normally, I would have been the first to agree. The traffic to the beach and back again was a nightmare, and their house was a great place to chill. But Charlie’s sexy sideways glance when no one else was looking was a better invitation by far.
I made up an excuse about talking to my sister while Charlie told everyone he had a facemask calling his name. We walked outside together, brushing shoulders and fingers as we chatted about our favorite side dishes at Thanksgiving. Actually, he did most of the talking. I couldn’t fucking think straight. Pun intended. I’d been like this for weeks now. All he had to do was smile and I turned to mush. There was something wicked and enticing about knowing how nasty that angelic-looking man could be behind closed doors. The sweet curls, pretty eyes, full lips, and compact body were a front for a perpetually horny and dirty-minded lover. He was voracious. And always ready to go.
Tonight, for example—I followed him home, parked at the curb in front of his townhouse and met him as he got out of his car. He closed the garage door, untied my shorts and curled his fingers around my cock, stroking me insistently as he worked on his belt and kissed me breathless. I went from hard to rock hard in a matter of seconds. I said something about going inside but Charlie gave me a lopsided grin, lowered his khakis and bent over the driver’s seat. He dug inside his bag and handed me a small bottle of lube before reaching back to finger his hole. There really was nothing sexier than a half-dressed Charlie with his pants around his ankles, begging for my dick. I added another finger to the two he had in his ass, then lined my cock at his entrance and pushed my way inside.
A day of furtive glances and stolen touches left us both vibrating with need. We started out slow but quickly escalated until we fucked like a couple of wild animals, grunting and clawing at each other. I kicked my shorts off at one point to widen my stance and held on to his hips with one hand and pulled his hair with the other. Then I licked his neck, bit his jaw, and smacked his ass while he begged for more. But see, nothing was normal with Charlie. He didn’t just say “Fuck me, baby” and call it a day. He was graphic, and he made it clear he liked it when I tol
d him exactly what I wanted from him. I didn’t have a prudish bone in my body, but I might have blushed the first time he egged me into telling him I wanted to pound his hole. Now I didn’t miss a beat. I spanked him, raked my fingers down his sides, and told him how tight, sexy, and beautiful he was. Sometimes I told him not to come until I said he could. He loved that, but he had to know I’d be the first to lose it every time. I did today. I pulled out of him just before my orgasm tore me apart and shot my load on his ass before pushing inside him just as he came.
We’d cleaned up haphazardly with tissues and laughed at the mess we made as we undressed, then headed inside hand-in-hand and buck-ass-naked to shower. Soft, leisurely kisses gave way to insistent ones under the warm spray. Next thing I knew, we were in his bed, rolling and swaying like branches in a gentle breeze. We took our time, though. I didn’t want to hurt him and honestly, I just wanted to hold him. I wanted to breathe him in and savor him like a fine wine or the last piece of chocolate in a box of See’s.
And two hours later, the feeling hadn’t gone away. I wanted to rationalize my desire for him or even downplay it as a product of ignoring my bi side, but that would be a flat-out lie. If I’d wanted anyone the way I wanted him, I would have gone for it…male or female. But there was no one like Charlie. He was one of a kind in every way possible. I wasn’t sure what to make of this thing between us, but it felt too good to question. It would just be nice if I could get my dick under control.
I lowered my bass over my crotch when he greeted the band with his customary panache.
“Bonjour, bitches! Are we ready for show time?” he asked, smacking me with his bag. He briefly set his hand on my shoulder as if to apologize, then rambled into a long-winded speech that covered the standing-room-only crowd, how much they were drinking, and the two big-name celebrities he spotted near the bar.
“You shouldn’t tell us stuff like that. You’ll make us nervous,” Tegan groused.
Justin chuckled. “Unless Jagger’s out there, I think you can handle it.”
“The Dust Bowl has never had a major rock star sighting,” Johnny huffed.
He was probably right. We’d played this venue a couple of times over the past few months. The five hundred capacity club was one of the larger ones on our circuit. They had a huge bar, but best of all, they served food. The chicken nuggets were amazing, and the waitstaff always hooked us up with extra french fries. Charlie stole one from Justin when he bent to tune his guitar and gestured with it as he spoke.
“You’ll be the first, then.” He spread his hand wide and made a sweeping gesture. “Zero…the future biggest band in the world. That has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, Char. Whatever you say.” Justin set his guitar on a nearby stand and leaned against Gray.
“Your boyfriend is being mean to me, Gray,” Charlie singsonged.
Gray pulled Justin between his thighs and massaged his biceps. “I think he’s hoping Mick shows up after all.”
“He might after your record comes out. We can talk about it later, but I’m thinking a January release sounds perfect. What do you think?”
Everyone looked up at once.
“Did we sign something I don’t know about?” Justin asked, cocking his head curiously.
“Of course not. But I have ideas to discuss. Details to come.” Charlie did a double take and flashed a bright smile at our lead guitarist. “Johnny, I love that color lipstick. I wish you’d all wear a little lipstick or even just eyeliner. It really pops well when you’re onstage. Ky, you should try that shade of red. It’s subtle enough to bring out the color of your eyes.”
I glanced up at him and I think my heart actually stopped for a second. He looked like a fucking cherub. Soft curls, full lips, and a mischievous glint in his eyes that hinted at serious trouble.
I balanced my bass on my knee before grabbing a bag of M&M’s from a pocket inside my case.
“Hey Char, I got you something.” I tossed the candy to him and gave him a thumbs-up when he caught it.
He held my gaze for a long moment, then smiled. “M&M’s? My favorite. Thank you.”
The butterflies in my chest fluttered like crazy. I watched his mouth move as he chattered about classic candy bars. I didn’t pay attention, I just…stared at him like an idiot and thought of all the things I’d saved up to tell him in the hour since we parted on the sidewalk in front of his place. Don’t ask me what. My mind went blank.
“Dude, you got any more?” Tegan wiggled his fingers at me.
“No, sorry. That was it. I saved ’em for Char.” I ignored Tegan’s bemused expression and focused on Charlie as he ripped open the package.
He poured a few candies onto his palm and frowned. “These aren’t M&M’s. They’re Reese’s Pieces. Gee, I wonder how they jumped into a bag of plain M&M’s.”
I pushed my bass behind my back and jumped up to investigate. “You gotta be kidding me. How’d that happen? Gimme one. I better make sure they’re not poison.”
Charlie rolled his eyes, then pointed at the seam in the packaging. “If the glue got on them, they could be. I hope you didn’t use Gorilla Glue. These are my real favorites.”
“You say that about everything. Name a candy you don’t like,” I said.
“Almond Joy. They’re awful. They were the last candy bar standing at Halloween every year. Couldn’t give ’em away. No one in our house wanted them.”
Gray piped in with a quick remark about stealing the Butterfingers that started a serious debate about the best and worst Halloween treats. I tuned everyone out and smiled at Char.
“So you really like those things?” I asked, stepping closer.
“No. I hate them,” he whispered.
“Hate? That’s a little strong.”
“Okay, you’re right. They’re blah. Not worth the calories. What did you do with the actual M&M’s in this bag?”
“I ate ’em.”
I chuckled at his exaggerated scowl, then cast a quick glance around the dim utilitarian area. It was cramped and smelled vaguely of cigarettes and water damage. The walls were covered with ancient concert posters. Some dated to the fifties. Under decades worth of grime, there was a sense of intimacy here that made me feel a little brave. I ran my fingers along his side and turned slightly to make sure it was just us and the band. Johnny and Justin were harmonizing, and Tegan was twirling his sticks anxiously. Gray must have left. The coast was clear.
Charlie’s lips parted slightly as I sidled closer. His eyes took on a sex-hazed look that made me want to wrap my fingers around his throat and push my tongue into his mouth. The insta-electric current of lust and need was mesmerizing and strong as fuck. If I wasn’t careful, I’d do something dumb and give us away. I didn’t care, but Charlie might.
“What are you doing after the show?” he asked.
“You,” I quipped.
We chuckled. When Tegan turned toward us, I pulled my bass across my chest and strummed a riff from our opening song in a lame attempt at neutrality.
“I’m a bad idea,” he blurted.
“I know. But I’m worse…by a long shot.”
Charlie watched my fingers on the fret before meeting my eyes. He chuckled softly. “You are. Break a leg.”
I met his smile with one that threatened to split my face in two. The butterflies did their thing and my heart sped up another notch, but I felt light and breezy. And I had no desire to run or hide from the feeling. I wanted to revel in it ’cause just being around him felt good.
Someone called his name and broke the spell. He gave me a harried smile before heading for the door. I sucked in a deep breath, then joined my bandmates.
Tegan tapped his drumsticks together, sparing me a quick sideways glance. “What’s up with you two?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb, Baldwin. You were flirting with Charlie. Again. What’s up with that?”
“A little flirting never hurt anyone,” I bluffed.
“Ri
ght.” Tegan looked over at Justin and Johnny and tapped his sticks together when I nodded in agreement. Conversation over. Except…not quite. “Charlie isn’t like those other guys. Be careful, Ky.”
“What other guys?” I was immediately sorry I asked.
The second the words left my mouth, my brain started connecting the dots. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten that Tegan and I had known each other more than half our lives. It was just that we were never close friends. We hung around the same circles, but not really. Tegan had always been mature beyond his years. He’d never had a problem walking away from users and losers and never-ending parties. I did. Past tense. Bottom line…Tegan knew just enough about me, or “the old me,” to know I had a bad reputation.
“You know what I’m talking about. I know you aren’t straight, man.” Tegan sharpened his gaze and leaned closer. “You can tell me to fuck off. I totally respect that ten years have gone by and I’m overstepping some boundaries, but Zero is your family now and that makes you my brother. As your older, wiser brother…be careful with Charlie.”
“Fuck, I’m not gonna do anything to him, T.”
Tegan scoffed. “It’s the other way around, Ky. Charlie’s smarter than the four of us combined. He will literally eat you for lunch and spit you out before dinner. Don’t underestimate Charlie, and don’t let him fool you. This isn’t high school. This is the real world, and if we want this band to go anywhere, we can’t fuck up the chemistry. Don’t start something you can’t control.”
“Mind your own fuckin’ business,” I hissed.
Tegan held his hands up. “Hey, just a friendly reminder, Baldwin. That’s all.”
The hard nudge to my shoulder felt like more than a reminder. It felt like a message. And I didn’t need any fucking messages…so I lost it. I shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back a couple of steps. He looked surprised at first and then pissed. Justin and Johnny looked up just as Tegan charged at me.
I should have been nervous. I was roughly the same height as Tegan, but he was built like a Mack truck. His biceps had biceps. It didn’t take a genius to know he could kick my ass and not break a sweat. But I wasn’t feeling so smart at the moment. I just wanted him to shut the fuck up. I didn’t want to be reminded of where I was from or any of the stupid mistakes I’d made. Zero was my second chance. And maybe I owed Tegan for giving me the opportunity, but it sure as fuck didn’t give him the right to use it against me.
