by BA Tortuga
Simon stared at him, then moved to put a hand on his chest, right over his heart. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
That gentle touch took him to his knees, the agony bursting from him, cracking him through the center and letting out a wild, broken sound that had been building for over eight years.
Simon sank down on the floor with him, holding him like no one ever had, listening to him scream and cry about all he’d lost. Simon never said another word. Just held him.
The storm passed, leaving him empty, scoured and raw inside, and he found himself unable to meet Simon’s gaze. So he closed his eyes and held on, letting himself rest and trust that he was somewhere safe.
Simon held Michael, stroking his hair. The tempest seemed to have passed, but he waited until Michael began to make restless motions before standing and pulling Michael up to sit at the kitchen table.
Then he poured a cold glass of water. “Here, babe.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry.” Michael’s eyes were red and swollen, hands sweating and shaking.
“It’s—” Well, obviously nothing was okay, so he cut that off. Simon took a deep breath. “You needed that, babe. Don’t apologize.”
Michael nodded. “I must have. I’ve never done that before.”
He sat across from Michael, reaching for his hand. “That’s a long while to keep that all in.” He had so many damn questions, so much pushing up in his chest and his brain, but he held it in for now.
Michael took his offer and held on. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I swear to God.”
“No. I get that.” His mind was racing. “I’m not wanting to take them away or make a huge mess of your life, Michael. But I do want to explore this. Get to know them as family.”
“Still?” Michael looked confused, but underneath that, Simon saw the hint of happiness. “Are you sure?”
“God, yes. Lord. Those girls are sweet and smart and talented, and you, well, you make me crazy.” Simon smiled, because that was the truth. His mom was gonna lose her mind.
“Oh.” Michael squeezed his fingers hard. “I need a beer. You?”
“I could use one.” It was early. Or was it? He had no idea what time it was at this point.
“It’s been a day of many things.” His cowboy was the king of understatement. The king.
“Oh, babe, it’s been something.” Simon laughed a little. A roller coaster. He’d just learned he was a dad. Genetically, anyway. Time to make up for the other part, and knowing Michael was willing to talk about it made him really excited. Happy. Scared.
Michael brought him a Fat Tire, motioning toward the couch. “It’s more comfortable in here, huh?”
“Yeah.” They probably needed to settle in for this. The discussion would get big.
Michael was right—the couch was wonderful and cozy and homey. Like his Michael.
They snuggled up together, Michael’s arm around him.
“So. So what do you want to do, Simon?”
Simon pondered that. “Well, I want to be with you and the girls. I think we have something here. I’ll have to tell my mom, and I’ll warn you now, she already wants those girls as her grandkids.”
“My mom knows. I mean, she was there when they told me I couldn’t have kids. She doesn’t know about you, specifically.”
“Is she going to be upset?” They would figure it out. They would have to.
“My mom?” Michael chuckled softly. “My mom believes that the more people that love you and your children, the better off you are.”
“Oh, cool. My mom believes that she is meant to be a granny. Period.” He chuckled. “I’m reeling a little.”
“You don’t have to deal with it, you know. Seriously. You can just not.”
He turned to face Michael a little. “I want to. I do. I think about you doing this all by yourself, and I have all the feels, babe. But more than that, I love them already, and I want you in my life. All of you. In a big way.” That was the easiest and most real thing he knew how to say.
“I want you. I’ll make it safe for you here. I will.”
Michael was so vehement that it took him a minute to work that out.
“Oh.” He leaned to kiss Michael’s mouth. “We can work on that together, honey. I have all the resources in place. I just need to remember I’m not hiding as well as I think I am.”
“I’ll do right by you, I swear to God.” His sweet man.
No one ever worried like this about him, without ever actually asking him for a dime. Sure, his manager was good to him, genuinely, but she was aware Simon was an asset. Michael never asked about the money, the fame. In fact, Michael could have had all the help in the world, but he hadn’t wanted to seem like he was begging.
Simon would bet on it.
“You do right by me by being here.” He leaned on Michael’s shoulder. “Wow.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Michael held his hand, thumb tracing lazy circles on his skin.
“I don’t either. It feels crazy to know I have kids. With you. And Rhi. She was a force of nature, babe.”
“She was. She wanted what she wanted, and no one told her no.”
That made a lot of sense. If Rhi hadn’t wanted to come to Simon and tell him about the girls, well, Michael wouldn’t have.
“She didn’t want me to know, did she?” he murmured.
“No. You literally hit the week we found out. She wanted to be where you were, but she knew it wasn’t going to happen. It was a fluke, but she believed it was fate.”
“And then after. You were trying to get by.” He couldn’t imagine what Michael had been through. He petted Michael’s chest.
“I was. I was just—you have to understand, for four years I was working full-time, going to school full-time, and taking care of twins. I was losing my mind. Mom was a huge help, but we just treaded water. And then I graduated, and the girls went to school, and you are a superstar. I’d see you on TV and think…he doesn’t need this drama. I didn’t think you’d even remember my name.”
“Then we start from right now, huh? Is that okay?” It had to be. Michael was willing to make huge changes to his life for Simon already. Simon had heard his determination to get cameras and all. They could do this. Simon had to stop playing like he was on an extended vacation.
“We do. I—I could let myself fall deep in love with you, right now.”
“Okay.” He grinned, because he was already there. Michael was all he could want, and probably nothing he deserved. “Just let me love you.”
“Yes, and the girls. They’re ready to love you too.”
“They have me around their little fingers.” They were…all the good things about him and Michael and Rhi, he thought. Hell, maybe the bad too, and he couldn’t wait to see all their phases.
“They’re neat kids. Seriously. I have tried to help them thrive.”
“I think you’ve done amazing.” He traced patterns on Michael’s chest, realizing after a few that he was writing music.
Michael began to hum, following him, and he’d never really done this—written with a lover. He’d gone to bed with more than one writer, but this was different. Michael was…well, he got Simon. Like cell-deep.
“Let me get my notebook,” he said, wiggling up because this was too good not to write down.
Michael was leaning hard, watching him with a soft smile on his face. “You brought a guitar. Excellent.”
“I did. Is that okay? I have this hook.” He sat back down, just strumming it out already.
His brain felt too crowded, crammed full of ideas, of hooks, of notes. He was finally coming back to life after being chained into position. His life had been fine. But now he knew what he was missing, and damn if he didn’t want to write love songs.
Lots of them.
Chapter 14
They’d had a great week—filled with music and simple chores, burgers on the grill, and amazing lovemaking. Michael hadn’t been so happy in years.
The honeymoon part was
fixin’ to be over, though. Mom was home. Simon’s security team and his assistant—a team, for fuck’s sake—was on their way by the end of the week. He was going to have to introduce the girls to them in two weeks. Jesus.
Simon was taking it all in stride. In fact, he thought Simon was charging forward way better than he was. Maybe the man was just used to things changing every day. Michael was more a creature of habit.
He’d talked to Mom this morning early and asked her to stop by, because she deserved to meet Simon first. He wanted to see her anyway, because his life had changed drastically, and she was his touchstone. She always knew what to say.
She was on her way, and he thought she said something about bringing tofu and spud burritos from Dos Gringos.
Surely Simon had been faced with tofu at some point.
“Do you have a position on tofu, honey?” he asked.
“Pretty favorable, as long as it’s not just a tofu steak.”
“Nah, this is in a burrito with potatoes and green chile.”
Simon gave him a bemused grin. “I’m down.”
“My mom’s on her way over. I need you to meet her.” He told himself he wasn’t nervous, but he was lying. He wanted Mom to love Simon, to approve of him.
“Should I shower?” Simon had compromised with him—instead of jogging until his security got there, he had done a body weight thing inside, with jumping jacks and burpees.
“Mom’s a massage therapist. She’ll be fine, but if you’d be more comfortable, go for it.” That was fair, right?
“Okay, let me go get presentable.” Simon gave him a quick kiss. “I promise, no eyeliner or leather pants.”
“Mom wouldn’t care.” He didn’t mind the eyeliner at all. In fact, the idea of Simon all decked out revved his engine.
“No? You like the idea?” Simon winked, then did a little shimmy.
“I like all your ideas, butthead.” He reeled Simon in and took a hard kiss, because he could.
“Mmm.” Simon wrapped around him, kissing him back, always so responsive to him.
“No getting me hard now. Not with Mom on her way.” He loved the way Simon felt in his arms.
“Sorry.” Simon’s smile said he was lying about that sorry thing. But that was okay. He got another kiss, and then Simon pulled back. “Okay. De-sweating. Be right back.”
“Good deal.” He picked up the couple of things that had slipped through, and then he grabbed another cup of coffee. His mom would appreciate him taking time to ground his energy, as she called it. Not that she couldn’t handle the chaos of his little family with one hand tied behind her back.
She was freaking amazing.
Her little Jeep trundled down the dirt road, and she parked next to the rental. He could see her confusion.
Right.
The wreck.
That had happened, and it should feel huge, but it was the smallest thing that had gone on last week, somehow.
The first thing she said when she walked in, sliding her sunglasses up over her hair, was “You get a new car?” like he knew she would.
“No, ma’am. Someone ran into my truck. That’s a rental. Nice, huh?” He hugged her, smelling sage and cloves.
“It is. I like it. So, you’ve got a rock star here? The town is buzzing with whispers. Who is he?” Her blue eyes mirrored his, and they twinkled.
“There are a lot of answers to that question, from the guy that hit my truck to my new lover to the girls’ biological father.” There. He had to start out like he could hold out.
Mom blinked, then blinked a few more times. “Well now, that’s something. Which rock star is he?”
“Simon McFee. Well, his name is Simon Petrie, but McFee is his stage name.”
“Oh. I like his ‘Mornings With You.’ Kinda folky rock.”
“Yeah. I…” Suddenly he didn’t know what to say. Suddenly all the truths and lies and feelings were huge.
“Hey. Hey, baby. It’s okay.” She came to him and hugged him, holding him tight while he fought the urge to come apart at the worn seams. “I knew it had to be something like that, right? I was there. With the cancer.”
Yeah. She knew him better than anyone else on earth.
“You’ll like his folks,” he murmured into her hair.
“I’m sure I will. So…does he…” She blew a raspberry. “I mean, what about my grandgirls?”
“He wants to get to know them better. He cares for them. He swears he wants to be an ‘us,’ Mom.” And as stupid as it probably was, Michael wanted that too.
There was a soft sound from the doorway, Simon clearing his throat. He looked gorgeous, his wet hair slicked back from his sharp face, his eyes bright. “Am I interrupting?”
“Considering I came here to meet you? Absolutely not.” Mom looked him up and down, then shook her head. “You need more potassium in your life. Less stress. More laughter.”
“I—okay. I’m in.” Simon chuckled. “The hardest part sounds like the potassium.”
“Eat bananas. Easy-peasy. The girls have your eyes and your chin.”
Simon nodded. “They do. My mom was way faster to figure it out than me.” Simon took a deep breath, then let it out. “It’s kind of amazing.”
“They are. So, what are your intentions with my boy and his girls?”
“Mom…”
She pinned him with a look. “What? It’s a fair question.”
Michael held up his hands, shooting Simon an apologetic glance.
Simon grinned a little but turned a serious face to Mom. “I want to be part of their lives. My intentions are to be with Michael and make a relationship with him and Chloe and Mickey. But even if that doesn’t work out for some strange reason, I have no intention of anything evil, I promise you. Michael is their dad, and he’s doing a damn fine job.”
“He is. He’s a great father and a good man too.” Mom nodded at him. “I hope you two are happy. Family is good for you.”
“It is. I’d forgotten that a little. You get isolated in my business. I think the label counts on it, in fact.”
“I can only imagine how lonely it must be, to be a front man, even with a band.” Mom grinned suddenly. “I brought tacos!”
“Tofu, Michael says. I love tacos.” Simon grinned back, and Mom linked arms with him.
“Come help me unload.”
Mom needed help taking tacos out of the bag? Wow. He headed for the kitchen. “Coffee, y’all?”
“Please.” Mom rolled her eyes like dice.
“Sounds great,” Simon said, daring to feel up his butt on the way by.
He peeped and jumped, then hurried to the kitchen as Mom cackled at them. Assholes. Seriously.
They followed him, carrying bags of takeout, and those tacos and burritos did smell amazing. His stomach growled, making everyone laugh again.
“What? I’m a growing boy!” He figured he’d better laugh along. What else could he do? This was a crazy situation.
“You work hard,” his mom and Simon said at the same time.
Lord, they were bonding.
They weren’t allowed to start doing that weird twin thing. He had enough of that in his life. Seriously.
More than enough.
“You’re rolling your eyes,” his mom accused. “I will pick them up and roll them back if you’re not careful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He poured three cups of coffee—three with milk, two with sugar—and brought them over.
“Thanks, babe.” Simon took his, then got out plates and napkins. “Thank you for the food, ma’am.”
“Of course. They’re my favorite. I was having a cleanse. They leave me starving.”
“Mom, no cleanse talk while we’re fixin’ to eat.” He’d gag.
“Sorry.” Her expression said, “Sorry, not sorry.”
Simon cackled at her. “We’ll compare notes later.”
Oh dear God…
He dug into the tacos, refusing to acknowledge that.
“So, how long
do you get to stay here? Are you touring now, or is it music-making time?” Mom grinned and winked. “I had thought Michael here would go to music full-time, but he didn’t love being on stage unless he’s not the focus.”
No, in that, he was like Mickey. Or Mickey was like him. Or something.
Chloe was going to be a superstar. Mickey was going to make art. Or robots. Musical robots…
“I’ll be here for a bit, kind of retreat. I’m writing for a new album. Then we’ll figure out what the label can do for me in terms of slowing down my schedule.” Every time Simon said that, Michael felt a little glow of happiness.
“Oh, that sounds good. My Michael writes some good songs, did you know?”
“I did.” Simon gave him this smoking-hot look, one that made his skin prickle all over. “We’ve already written three for the new album and two I want to sell to a buddy.”
“Oh, excellent! That’s amazing.” Mom actually bounced in her chair and teared up.
“It is. Michael is amazing, and it’s time he got some love for it. He’ll get half the publishing and royalties, of course.”
Michael snorted. “That will go to the girls’ college fund, then.” If he made enough, he could pay off the new car, he guessed, but they had all they needed.
“I do love his accountant heart.” Mom patted his hand. “So, tell me what you think of my granddaughters.”
“I think they’re amazing. Chloe is so brave and fearless, and Mickey thinks about things so hard…” Simon and Mom just babbled together like old friends, and Michael breathed a sigh of relief.
He knew Mom would be easy. Mom wanted him and the girls to be happy, but knowing and knowing were two different things. Having to see him with a man at family gatherings, knowing they might be, uh, busy when she dropped by… Those things could blindside someone.
“Earth to Michael? Where are you, son?” Mom’s voice broke through his thoughts.
