by Jet Mykles
“Wow. Who’s this guy?”
“I’ve been trying to find out. He signs his e-mail as John, but that’s all I know. He registered the domain as private, and the e-mail comes through there.” Gordon shrugged. “I guess I have to ask you guys. Do you want me to pursue it? So far, he’s done nothing but help. He seems like a genuine fan.”
Lance looked at Noble. “You think Shelby could have something to do with this?”
Shelby Koontz was the lead singer of The Might, the band Lance and Noble had belonged to for seven years. Shelby was ridiculously rich, so much so that he created his own studio on his family’s estate. He’d not only paid his bandmates but put them up in a guesthouse. From all Lance and Noble had said about him, Danny got the impression the guy was an extreme megalomaniac and perfectionist. The Might had been his from beginning to end, and the rest of the band members had been there to fulfill his dream. Despite the cushy living conditions, that had ultimately been why Noble and Lance left, wanting some control over their creativity, for a change.
Noble snorted. “Are you kidding? If it was him, he’d be the first to take credit for it.”
“True.” Lance shrugged at Gordon. “That was my only idea.”
“Doesn’t seem like a big deal,” Rabin said, reaching over Gordon to click on some more links. “Maybe we can just keep tabs on it for now.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Gordon admitted. “God knows I’ve got plenty other stuff to do.”
“Well…” Danny stepped away and returned to the couch. “I know someone who could probably help us figure out who it is, but he’s not talking to me these days.”
Noble perched on the couch’s arm beside him. “Still haven’t heard from him?”
“Nope. Sent a few e-mails to that address Izzy gave me.” He nodded to Rabin, who’d given him the information. Cash, it seemed, was in touch with Izzy. “But never got a response.”
“Fuck him.” Noble slid down to the seat beside Danny and put an arm around him. It would have been nicer if Noble weren’t still pungent and damp with sweat. Danny liked the manly-man smell and all, but this was too much. But he didn’t move away, needing the comfort. “We’ll take you out and find you a sweet young thing to fuck into oblivion tonight.”
Danny chuckled and untangled himself. “Thanks. But no, thanks.” He stood and swiped his towel over his neck and shoulders. “I’m not interested.”
“Lance, goddammit!”
Danny turned, surprised at the vehemence in Noble’s voice, but the drummer was glaring at Lance, who was still propped up against the table next to Gordon.
Lance looked as surprised as Danny. “What’d I do?”
Noble pointed at him. “What did you do to Danny to make him dysfunctional like you?”
Lance rolled his eyes, then said to Danny, “Any chance I could get you to fuck someone so he’ll stop blaming me?”
Danny grinned and turned to the mirror. “Sorry, man. You’re on your own.”
“That’s the problem!” Noble protested, standing in a huff. “He’s alone.”
Only because he was looking in the mirror did Danny see Lance glance at Gordon. Neither Rabin nor Noble saw Gordon return the glance, then shy away. Interesting.
“Jesus H Christ.” Noble was still on a rampage. “Where’s the shower? I need to do all the fucking myself.”
Rabin watched him storm off, laughing. The laughter died down when Rabin moved up next to Danny, though. “Should I have given you that e-mail address?”
Danny shrugged, lifting his bag from where it sat in a corner onto the table before him. “Sure. It’s not like I really expected anything. Although some kind of response would have been nice.”
Rabin nodded. “If it’s any consolation, he only wrote to Izzy once more, basically thanking him.”
“What did he write about in the first place?”
“He was looking for that crazy Heaven Sent site. Y’know, the one you can’t find through Google search.”
Danny paused with a new shirt in hand. “Yeah, I know it.” The site could only be reached by a link, and you could only join by invitation. Danny was a member, but he hadn’t gone there much. Although the Knights were mentioned a lot more these days, it remained a Heaven Sent site. Now that he actually knew the guys, searching out information on them didn’t seem like a good use of his time. “Why’d he want the link there?”
“Don’t know.”
“He ask for an invite?”
“Not that I know of.”
Scowling, Danny pulled on his shirt and started to button it up. “That’s weird.”
“Kinda. Maybe he wanted to hack it.”
“Maybe. But why? He’s only ever met Luc, and that was brief.”
“Maybe he’s become a big fan since you’ve gone.”
Danny snorted, leaving a good portion of his blue silk shirt unbuttoned, the better to frame his knight pendant. He rarely took it off anymore. “Maybe he’s trolling for dates.” Depression dropped on him like a ton of bricks. He felt his shoulders sag and let his hands fall to his sides. “Shit.”
Rabin patted his arm. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Can’t help it.”
Behind them, a chair scraped on the floor. Only then did Danny realize Lance and Gordon had remained, talking quietly across the room. He frowned at them.
“Danny, you’re going out front, right?” Gordon asked, slipping his laptop back into his messenger bag. “There’s a reporter out there who wants to talk to you.”
“Yeah. I’ll be right out.”
Gordon nodded and left. Lance waited a beat and then left too.
Danny opened his mouth to make a comment to Rabin, but the door opened again. Gordon was back and ushering a man Danny had to assume was the reporter. Rabin exchanged a sympathetic glance with him, then backed away. Danny had one moment to banish his depression and put on his game face. He managed it. He was nothing if not professional, even if his heart was broken.
Chapter Nineteen
Bryon Keelan had a beautiful face, the kind of face you’d remember. Which was good for him since he was an actor. Danny had seen him in any number of bit parts for movies or television in the past few years. Recently he’d been cast as a secondary character in Roommates, a major primetime drama that looked like it was going places. He had smooth blond hair and twinkling blue eyes and a mouth designed to wrap around a cock, at least to Danny’s eyes.
And that mouth was smiling at Danny.
“I really love your music,” Bryon said, leaning against the back of the couch on which they both sat, getting a little closer. “Your lyrics are haunting.”
Around them, a private party was in full bloom. Gordon had gotten the Knights invited to a Roommates promotion party. How, Danny had no idea, but here he was playing the rock star for the actors and the press that watched them both. Danny had learned more about television than he’d ever thought to ask. It was June, and they’d made New York in fine style. Most of their shows were now sold out, and Gordon was getting all sorts of invites from various places. Best news yet, however, was that the record company had finally come through. Gordon had started negotiations on a contract.
Tonight, things were winding down. Half of the partygoers were gone, and the other half were obviously in the midst of acquiring their late-night company if they were going to have some.
It was apparent that Bryon Keelan wanted Danny’s company.
Danny smiled at the actor, wondering if he was out or if he was going to ask Danny for one of those “don’t ask” interludes. “You’ve heard of us?”
“Yeah.” Casually, Bryon propped an arm on the back of the couch and leaned his head on his palm. Smooth. He was letting his looks do most of the work for him. He also smelled outrageously good, something spicy and slightly sweet. “When they told us you’d be here tonight, a bunch of the others scrambled to get your album.” He smiled proudly. “But I already had it.”
“Oh?”
>
“I’m a big Heaven Sent fan.”
And there it was. Danny had learned that particular pickup line well over the past few months. When delivered along with a look like he was getting now, it meant “I’m gay, and I want to eat your dick.”
Danny put on a noncommittal smile and nodded. “Excellent.”
“You write the lyrics?”
“Most of them.”
“I thought so. Very soulful, but still fun.”
“Thanks.”
A pink tongue flashed between parted lips as Bryon went in for the kill. “What say you and I go somewhere private to talk? Music.”
Right. Music. With the ease of recent practice, Danny’s smile turned breezy, and he tilted his head to the side in an abbreviated shrug. “I should probably be getting back to the hotel.”
“Want some company?”
“Afraid not.”
Bryon’s perfect brows drew into a V. “I’m sorry—did I read this wrong? I thought you were gay.”
“I am. And if you’d caught me a few months ago, I’d have been all over you.” He put in a wicked grin and a brow waggle for emphasis. “But now’s not a good time.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Okay, it was a lie. But he felt like he had a boyfriend, since every time he considered hooking up with someone, he immediately felt like he was cheating on Cash. His mother blamed his romantic streak. His sisters blamed his stubbornness. He didn’t know which it was, but it was killing him.
“Oh.” Bryon’s demeanor changed, seduction melting into what Danny could only read as weariness. “Well, damn.” Switching his drink from one hand to the other, he leaned forward to reach in his back pocket. “Let me give you my phone number anyway.” He glanced up and tried the smile again. “In case the timing gets right.”
“Okay.” Danny pulled out his fancy new phone—an expense he’d finally decided was justified instead of risky—and called Bryon’s phone so they both could store numbers. Who knew? Maybe when he got over Cash, he’d be interested. He studied Bryon a moment as the actor put away his phone. “Are you out?”
The megawatt smile was back. “Happily, yeah.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind this.” Danny leaned over and brushed his lips across the other man’s. Bryon was surprised but didn’t seem upset as Danny sat back.
“What was that for?”
Danny grinned. “Didn’t want you to think it was because you aren’t hot as hell.”
Bryon threw back his head and laughed, and Danny considered himself proud he’d removed the weariness from the man’s eyes, at least for the moment. He excused himself and went looking either for another drink or for Gordon to see if he could leave. He chatted with some of his new friends along his path, found a scotch and soda but no Gordon. He did find Rabin, though, sitting on a low wall overlooking the city. The house sported an awesome view. Danny forgot the actual name of the town they’d passed through to get there, but they were about an hour outside the city. It kind of reminded Danny of the Hollywood Hills or Malibu.
“Nice view.” Danny propped himself on the wall beside him.
“Yeah.”
“’Course, you’re used to this kind of thing, living with Brent.”
Rabin just smiled. “Hey, give us about a year, and I might afford my own digs.”
“A year? Shit.” Danny sipped his drink. “With the way we’re going, it won’t be long.”
Neither of them could wipe the grins from their faces. They were almost there. It was really happening. Danny was almost Danny-fucking-Champion, damn it. He just wished he was enjoying offstage as much as on.
“Yeah. Just wait for the tour.”
The tour, of course, was the one with Heaven Sent. Gordon was heavy into finalizing the details with the people he worked with who were in charge of Heaven Sent. He didn’t have details, but Danny knew Europe, parts of Asia, Australia, and even some countries in Africa were already on the bill before a return to the US. They’d be on the road for over a year.
He hoped that’d be enough time to get over Cash.
“Yeah,” he agreed aloud, downing half his drink. He hadn’t had enough tonight and didn’t think he was going to get a good buzz, so this one more couldn’t hurt. He wasn’t driving. “The tour.”
He knew Rabin was studying him before he said, “So, Bryon Keelan?”
“Yep.”
“Looked like he was hitting on you.”
“He was.”
“Not interested?”
“Not really.”
Pause. “Cash?”
“Of course.”
Rabin sighed. “You’re gonna need to go see him.”
There went the rest of his drink. “Why? He made it pretty clear he was done with me.”
“Obviously you’re not done with him.”
“Don’t think he cares.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe he just needed some time without you to figure things out.”
“Nope. I think Cash has it all figured out. I was an extra bit that he didn’t need.”
“You sure that’s not what’s making you hold out?”
Danny considered getting indignant but gave it up. Rabin was a good enough friend, had listened to enough of Danny’s griping, that Danny knew he was trying to help. “Nope. Could be that’s what’s pissing me off—that he didn’t want me.” He shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me, and I’ll get over it. Sometime.”
Rabin chuckled, standing. “You really are a drama queen.”
Danny glared at him, but it lacked any heat. “Fuck you.”
Rabin patted him on the shoulder. “In your dreams, pretty boy.”
Chapter Twenty
Danny held his beer up to Lance. “It’s good to be home.”
Chuckling, Lance clinked bottles with him. “I guess this is as much a home as any.”
“I meant Chicago.”
“I know what you meant, surfer boy.” Lance sipped his drink. “This place isn’t any more home to me than it is to you.”
“True. Home for right now, then.” Danny lovingly stroked the soft brown microfiber of the couch that supported them. “After a few months of that bus and motel rooms, I’m real happy with my couch right here.”
Lance propped his bare feet on the coffee table. “At least until we head out again.”
Leaning his head back, Danny groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Yeah, you love it, and you know it. You’ll be missing the screaming girls any moment now.”
“Aww, I miss ’em already.”
Which got him a laugh. Lance and Noble’s apartment seemed so very quiet. They’d only been home a day, and Danny kept expecting someone to barge in and tell them they needed to hurry to get back to the bus or onstage. There was a lot he loved about doing a tour, but that love had to be pretty profound for him to put up with the rest of the crap. Now was nice, though. Now they got to rest for a few weeks while Heaven Sent got their affairs in order. The album was done and getting mastered. Arrangements for the first leg of the tour in Europe were finalized. The ink on the Indigo Knights’ contract with the record company was dry. Life was good.
Danny didn’t even think about Cash much anymore. Not much.
He downed most of his beer in shared silence. “Thanks for letting me crash with you again.”
“No problem. You’re a good enough roommate.” Lance stared at the television but didn’t lean forward to get the remote to turn it on. “Ever hear from the nerd?”
“Nope.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey, it is what it is. He made it clear where we stood.” Danny wondered how many times he’d have to have this conversation.
Lance studied him a moment. “You’re okay with that?”
“No. But there’s not much I can do.”
“You gonna see him?”
“I think, yeah.” Danny wiggled his bare toes and stared beyond them out the sliding glass door that led onto the b
alcony. Not a place he wanted to be in the wet Chicago heat. He actually missed California’s desert air. “I need to at least convince myself that it’s done.”
Lance shook his head. “I got to hand it to you—not easy to keep celibate the last few months.”
“You have.”
“I’m different.” Lance stood and started toward the open arch that led to the kitchen. “Didn’t Noble tell you? I’m sexless.”
Danny frowned after him. “That’s serious?”
Lance returned with two more beers, caps already off. He kept a straight face as he handed one to Danny, then smiled as he resumed his seat in the easy chair. “No. I’m fully functional.”
“Can I ask why you haven’t had sex in so long?”
Lance pondered a moment as he downed a few sips of beer. “I used to sleep around. A lot. I hurt someone. Didn’t realize I really cared about that person until after I’d ruined it.” He shrugged. “Guess I’m doing penance now.”
Danny watched him carefully. “That person still around?”
Lance smiled. “It’s not Noble.”
“Is it Gordon?”
By the way Lance froze, Danny knew he was right. Lance’s blue eyes met his, lips tight. “What makes you say that?”
“Little hints.”
“Noble didn’t tell you?”
“He hasn’t told me anything.”
“Well, hot damn. He actually can keep a secret.” Lance thought for a moment. “You probably want to keep that little tidbit to yourself.”
“What? That Noble can keep a secret?”
Lance smiled at his joke, but then the smile dimmed. “Gordon and I were together. I hurt him. Bad. It’s a wonder he’s even talking to me. I doubt he wants the information spread around.”
“You still have feelings for him?”
“I still feel I need to make it up to him. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
Danny took the hint. “Mum’s the word.”
Lance nodded.
They finished their beers in companionable silence, and Lance left to disappear into his room. Noble wasn’t due back for hours. Danny turned on the television but wasn’t really into it. Day started to melt into night. He was antsy, but he didn’t know what to do.
