I find him on the couch in the living room with his laptop perched on his knees and a focused look as his fingers fly over the keys. Rather than interrupt his flow, I head to the kitchen and start making lunch. The click-clack of the keys continues while I throw together some veggies to roast in the oven and slice some rotisserie chicken for sandwiches.
When lunch is finished, I debate interrupting Dawson. Luckily, he comes into the kitchen before I have to decide. He draws up short in surprise and then smiles.
“I didn’t want to wreck your flow,” I explain, holding my arms open for him. He steps into them and kisses me soundly. “How’s your day been?” I ask, eager to hear about his writing and to know what put the twinkle in his eye.
He reaches for his pocket but comes up without his phone. He looks conflicted but finally answers me out loud instead of leaving my arms.
“Great. I went for a walk, got coffee, and I started writing.”
“That’s great, dimples. I’m happy for you.” I kiss his forehead and hold him tighter.
The oven beeps so I let go of him and pull the veggies out. When I turn back around, he has his phone with him again.
How was your meeting with your manager?
“Good. He wants me to tell Lincoln how I’ve been feeling about the song writing stuff.”
Are you going to?
“Yeah, I think I am.”
Good.
“Want to tell me what you’re writing?” I ask hopefully. He hesitates for a second, and I wonder if he’s going to be a secretive writer who won’t let anyone read a manuscript he spends the next twenty years writing.
It’s kind of a dark comedy fiction about a serial killer who accidentally starts a cult.
“That sounds awesome. I can’t wait to read it.”
Dawson sets down his phone and comes around the counter to step back into my arms. I bury my nose in his hair and close my eyes, reveling in the rightness of holding him close, right where he belongs.
Track 31: Side A
Just Say It
Dawson
It’s the third day in a row I’ve left the house and gone for a walk, explored the city. It’s the third day in a row I’ve put words down on paper and felt like the universe was right. With a smile on my face and a bounce in my step, I head for the coffee shop with my mind on a blueberry muffin.
Out of nowhere, a woman with a camera appears and stands in my path. She shoves the camera in my face, and I scowl. I always thought celebrities where kind of babies about paparazzi, but this is ridiculous. Her lips are moving, but I can’t be bothered to try to figure out what she’s saying. I shove the camera and glare at her, pointing at my ear and shaking my head so she’ll get the picture. They should know I’m deaf, they’re the ones who spilled all the details about my life a few weeks ago.
She keeps talking, and I push past her. I’m sure by the afternoon, there will be a story about Lando’s boyfriend being a major asshole. Oh well. Wow, that’s kind of liberating. Who cares what they write about me? My smile gets wider at this realization, and I step into the coffee shop happily.
Hugo, the barista who knows sign language, waves at me.
Morning, can I get a large coffee and blueberry muffin, please? I sign when I reach the counter.
Of course. How’s your day going so far?
Great, aside from a camera being shoved in my face outside.
Hugo frowns.
A camera? Why?
I’m assuming hoping to get dirt on my boyfriend, Lando.
His eyes go wide.
I didn’t realize you were dating Lando. He’s really nice, always tips well. I’m glad to know he’s finally happy. He always seemed lonely.
My heart simultaneously breaks and swells at that statement. I hate that Lando was lonely for so long, but the fact that I’m the only one he’s wanted makes me feel special.
After I order my coffee and muffin, I people watch for a while and then go a little farther down the block to explore a thrift shop I’d been wanting to check out. On the way home, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the side of a building, and for a second, I don’t recognize myself. I can’t remember when I’ve smiled this widely or felt this happy. For the first time I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Lando
My heart breaks as I watch Lincoln’s interview. He has a fake smile plastered on his lips as he talks about a depth of pain I had no idea about. It was obvious Lincoln had been having a hard time, but as I watch him explain his diagnosis, it hits me how little attention I was paying to his struggle.
My gut clenches with guilt as I think back over the last ten years and my certainty that Lincoln was just being dramatic, looking for attention, refusing to just get better already. It wasn’t that simple, and I should’ve known better. Of course, he would’ve just gotten better if that was an option.
“Why didn’t I know he was hurting this much?” I ask.
Dawson’s hand tightens in mine reassuringly, and he rests his head on my shoulder. But he doesn’t try to answer the impossible question I posed.
Then the reporter asks about Jace, and Lincoln’s whole face changes. It’s no longer tight and forced; his smile is bright and full of so much light.
“I think we might make it,” I muse, running my thumb along the back of Dawson’s hand. “But I need to tell him how I was feeling, don’t I?”
Dawson nods and then pats my shoulder reassuringly.
Two weeks after Lincoln’s interview aired, I linger in the hallway, staring at the door I’ve walked through a hundred times over the years. I can still remember how it felt to be eighteen and staring at this very door, knowing something life changing was on the other side of it. I can practically see us, young and full of hope for the future, excitedly waiting to be called into this room to sign the contract for our first album.
The sound of footsteps behind me draws my attention, and I spot Lincoln coming down the hall with a bounce in his step I haven’t seen in a decade.
“Hey,” I greet him.
“Hey.” He surprises me by pulling me into a tight hug, patting my back and holding on for a few seconds before releasing me. “I thought I’d be the first one here.”
“Yeah, I came a little early because I was hoping to catch you before the meeting. Can we talk for a few minutes?”
“Of course. Come on.” Lincoln reaches for the door handle, and I take notice of one healing cut on his arm and various scribbles in what looks to be marker. The cut looks like it’s at least a month old, and I let myself hope that it would be the last time he’d ever take a blade to himself in grief or pain.
The room is just as I remember—a conference table taking up a majority of the space, a large, impressive window filling the far wall, and platinum albums lining the walls.
Lincoln sits down in one of the chairs around the table, and I grab one across from him. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself to finally tell Lincoln how I’ve been feeling.
“I feel like we need to clear the air, and there’s something I should’ve said to you a long time ago. But if we’re going to move forward as a band, this needs to be said. I think we all need to admit the hurts we’ve caused each other over the years if we have any hope of healing.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Lincoln says, his face a little pale as he braces himself for my words.
“You and I made a promise to each other. We were supposed to both write the songs for the band, and in ten years, you’ve only written two.” Lincoln opens his mouth to say something, but I hold my hand up to stop him. I need to get this all out before I can let him apologize or justify his actions. “I know you were going through a lot. I didn’t understand exactly how much until recently, but the fact remains that I’ve grown to resent the hell out of you,” I admit, and his face falls. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but I need you to know that. You shouldn’t have put that much on my shoulders; it wasn’t fair to me. If we’re going to sign another contract,
I need you to give me some reason to believe it won’t be the same thing all over again.”
I take a breath and tuck my shaking hands into my lap before nodding at Lincoln to go ahead and respond.
“I’m sorry for the pressure I put on you by not pulling my weight. I could make excuses, but I won’t. You’re exactly right when you say I made a promise to you that I didn’t keep. You have no reason to believe me, but I can assure you things will be different going forward. I’ve already written eight new songs, and I’m working on more as we speak. I can’t promise I’ll never fuck up again, but if I do, I want you to give me a swift kick in the ass. In fact, you have my permission to call Jace and tell him to chew me out if I don’t hold up my end of the responsibilities this time around.”
The tension eases from my shoulders, and for the first time in ages, I feel like I can breathe easily. “I’ll do that. I’m sure Jace can dole out much worse punishments for you than I could ever manage.”
Lincoln chuckles in agreement.
The door opens, and we both turn to see Jude enter the room looking contrite and healthier than I’ve seen him in years. Lincoln pats the seat beside him.
“Come on in, Jude. We’re having an airing of grievances, and I’m sure we can both come up with a few choice words for you.” Lincoln winks to soften his words. We have a long way to go to heal all the wounds, but this is the first step for the band and for our friendships.
Dawson greets me at the door when I get home with a kiss and a sweet smile.
How’d it go? he signs.
“Surprisingly well. We all had a great talk, opening up about the things that have gotten in the way of our music and our friendships. I think we can repair the damage. We’re certainly all ready to move forward, together for a change.”
Are you signing the new contract tomorrow? he checks.
“It’s going to depend on how negotiations go, but I’m hopeful.”
He smiles again and lets me pull him close for another lingering kiss. When I release him, he drags me to the kitchen and puts a plate of steak and potatoes in front of me.
Thank you, I sign.
You’re welcome.
After dinner, we end up on the couch together.
I run my hands over Dawson’s cold feet resting in my lap. The rapid clacking of keys makes me smile. I glance over and get lost watching his face for a few minutes. I love watching every expression play over his face while he writes, like he is the character, having conversations, feeling the emotions. Sometimes, he’ll close his eyes for a few minutes, and the only clue that he’s still working is the continued tapping on the keyboard.
His eyes open, and he notices me watching for the first time.
“What’s up?” he asks. I love that he’s been talking more to me. The texting is great for convenience, but I’ve missed his voice. The question of whether he wants to try the experimental surgery is still on the table. It makes no difference to me if he decides to go through with it or not; all I want is for Dawson to have all the happiness in the world. I want him to live his life to the fullest so that everyone who sees it will be jealous, just like he always dreamed.
“I love you,” I tell him, and he smiles, a light blush creeping into his cheeks.
“I love you,” he replies before setting his computer aside and crawling into my lap. “Are you nervous for the band meeting tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “I hope we can work it out and stay together, but if things can’t change…” I shake my head again. “We’ll see how it all goes.”
Dawson bends his head down and presses his lips to mine.
“Either way, you’re stuck with me,” he assures me, and I light up from the inside out.
“Damn right,” I agree. “I’m never letting you get away, dimples.”
“Works for me. I let you get away once; I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Let’s go to bed,” I suggest with a leer.
Dawson puts his laptop into his computer bag for safe keeping and then follows me to bed. I’ll tell him tomorrow that I booked us a trip to South America for some epic ziplining in a few months. I’ve already picked out a ring to give him when we’re there too. For now, I just want to enjoy this moment. Wrapped up together, our bodies in harmony, I don’t care what Dawson says; this was fate.
The End
More By K.M.Neuhold
Replay Series
➢ If you missed the FREE prequel to the Replay series, get to know the rest of the band better! Click Here
➢ Get Lincoln’s full story in Face the Music (Replay, 1): click Here
The Heathens Ink Series
➢ Rescue Me (Heathens Ink, 1). To read this story about dealing with PTSD and addiction, and finding true love during an inconvenient time: click here
➢ Going Commando (Heathens Ink,2). If you’re looking for a lower angst story, you’ll want to check out this sexy, fun friends-to-lovers with an epic twist! Get it here
➢ From Ashes (Heathens Ink, 3). Don’t miss this story about love in the face of deep physical and emotional scars: Click here
➢ Shattered Pieces (Heathens Ink, 4). Grab this beautiful story about a feisty man who loves to wear lace and makeup trying his damndest to help a wounded soul heal: Click here
➢ Unraveled (Heathens Ink, 5) And don’t forget to read the sexy, kinky friends to lovers tale! Click Here
➢ Inked in Vegas (Heathens Ink, 6) Join the whole crew for some fun in Las Vegas! Click HERE
Ballsy Boys
Love porn stars? Check out the epic collaboration between K.M. and Nora Phoenix! Get a free prequel to their brand new series, and the first two books now!
➢ Ballsy (A Ballsy Boys Prequel). Meet the men who work at the hottest gay porn studio in L.A. in this FREE prequel! Click Here
➢ Rebel (Ballsy Boys, 1) If anyone can keep it casual it’s a porn star and a break-up artist. Right?? Click Here
➢ Tank (Ballsy Boys, 2) Don’t miss this enemies to lovers romance that will set your Kindle on fire! Click Here
About the Author
Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she’s not writing she’s a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero…just kidding, she’s likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.
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[RC1]I thought she was dead with how little she’s been mentioned.
Play it by Ear (Replay Book 2) Page 17
