TWO NIGHTS later, The Last Cowboys were booked to play in one of the clubs on U Street. Julian spoke to Brian and arranged for that Thursday night off as well as a slightly later start on Friday. His boss respected Julian’s work for the firm enough to know it was smart to let him have this once in a while. Brian had even said he’d try to make the show, along with Kat and Jack.
Tonight’s particular club had two stages—a larger one where better-known acts played and a smaller one, called Downstairs, which was, in fact, below the other one, and featured an eclectic mix of local bands, some spoken word, and assorted other acts. Julian settled into a seat at a table near the side of the stage. It was his regular table whenever they played here. Kat reached over and gently squeezed his forearm to get his attention, blue eyes huge in her pixielike face.
Kat had been at the firm for a year before Julian had been hired. She was currently studying for her LSATs and hoped to start law school the following fall. Julian helped her study at lunch and sometimes proofed her papers. He liked working with Kat and found her friendly nature calming amidst the generally wound-up partners and associates. And her competence made up for the flakiness of the other paralegal, Jack. In all, he thought the three—now four—of them made a good team.
“Jules. I… Zach told me.”
He took a long swig of beer. Any conversation that started like that was not one he particularly wanted to have. Best not to discuss Zachary right now when his stomach was in knots about all of it and he was going to be performing in a little bit. In fact, he’d had to take one of his antianxiety pills tonight. He wanted to deflect her but figured if he did, she’d continue anyway. Better to have context.
“Told you what?” He shifted in his seat, wishing Brian and Jack would arrive so Kat’s attention would be divided.
“Zach told me he was interested in you. You know, romantically. He asked me if you were seeing anyone. And all the times we’ve gone out you never brought a date, so I told him you were available. I feel horrible now because I should have told him I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Jules. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”
Her eyes were begging for absolution as she worked her bottom lip with her teeth. He forced himself to look reassuring, although he feared it was coming out more like severely constipated. Covering his hand over hers, he intended to offer a comforting pat but snatched it back upon realizing the clamminess he felt was his own sweaty palm. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. And Zach’s a great guy, I just—”
Kat looked past Julian’s shoulder and exclaimed, “Oh, you made it!”
Brian, Jack, and Zachary were approaching the table. Zachary must have gotten his hair cut that afternoon. Instead of the usual floppy mop, it was straightened and cropped just a bit shorter, framing his cheekbones in dark spikes. He hadn’t shaved either but had trimmed the stubble so that he looked older, edgier, and about a million times sexier. Which, given that Julian was usually about an inch away from combustion around Zachary anyway, meant this was going to be a really fucking long night.
“Hi,” Julian said stupidly, long after everyone had settled into seats around him.
Zachary grinned cheekily. “Hi yourself.” Zachary took a drink from the bottle in his hand. “Hope you don’t mind.” When had they gotten drinks? Didn’t they just that second sit down? Had he been staring long enough for someone to take and serve drink orders? Oh God.
“Mind what?” he asked, flustered.
“What?” Zachary asked back.
Fighting the urge to play back, Julian forced his gaze away from Zachary’s, but not before noting that Zachary’s eyes were a deep earth brown in the club’s dim light. They matched the dark brown button-down shirt he was wearing. He’d never seen it before. Maybe it was new? It looked soft. His fingers itched with the urge to prove it.
Kat leaned back toward Julian and kept her voice low, licking her bubblegum-pink lips. “So, now that it’s all out, who is he?”
“Who is who?” he asked her, completely distracted.
“Your boyfriend,” she said, brows coming together.
Shit.
He tried not to sputter. Wanted to crawl into the beer in his hands. Really wanted to crawl into a bottle of something much stronger than what he was currently drinking.
Before he could come up with any kind of reply, Brian mentioned something about a case that had been in the day’s news and the conversation diverted. With their boss holding court, Julian spent half his time enjoying Brian’s impassioned voice and the other surreptitiously watching Zachary whenever he thought he could get away with it. Which given that almost every time he was being watched back, was clearly not so much.
Damn, but the man was gorgeous. Mouthwatering. Stunning. Honey-licking good.
The fifth time he was caught ogling, he was given a show. Zachary picked up his longneck bottle and brought it agonizingly slowly to his lips before tipping it back for a deliriously prolonged swallow. Julian lost all saliva in his mouth as he tracked the drink down Zachary’s long, delicious throat. Fuck.
Enough.
Julian rose for the men’s room to splash cold water on his face.
He’d been in there a few minutes when the door opened and a tall form filled the space behind him.
“Hey.” Zachary slid to the next basin and copied Julian, splashing cool water on his face with those elegantly long fingers. “Warm in there.”
They were alone in the small sink space. Julian followed the dribble of water as it trailed Zachary’s cheek, curving around his jawline and down his long neck. Probably would be sweet and then have a salty aftertaste. No. Don’t think about that. The possibilities running through his head were too X-rated to be even remotely legal.
“Uh-huh.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along. Brian mentioned it, and well, I was so curious after hearing you talk about your songwriting.”
Avoiding the other man’s gaze, Zachary sucked in a deep breath. Reluctantly, he looked up and almost drowned in the eager expression coming back at him. He fought back the insane urge to take Zachary in a hug and confess all his sins at once. Steeling himself, he aimed for collegial and shrugged in what he hoped was a friendly manner. Something in Zachary’s drawn brows made Julian wonder what the heck his face was actually revealing.
Despite himself, Julian met Zachary’s eyes in the mirror and watched them darken into something smoky and hidden and full of temptation. Dammit. What the hell happened to Texan honor? Although Julian immediately felt the hypocrisy—he knew he was sending out enough mixed messages to confuse a world-class linguist.
After an eternity, Zachary nodded toward the door. “We should head back.” They returned to the table in silence, and Julian breathed out a sigh of relief to see that Nick and Gabe were already on stage, just waiting for Julian. He scooted up the three steps, grabbed the guitar he’d tuned earlier, and settled on his stool in the corner. They started the first set, Gabe’s usual blend of country-influenced rock and unique covers.
Halfway into the set, Nick pointed to Julian, who started shaking his head, but Gabe was already saying that the next song was one that Julian had written.
His little table crowd all jumped up enthusiastically. Zachary was uncharacteristically still, but as Julian rose, their eyes met and he was graced with a deep-felt smile.
It stilled his nerves.
He strummed a few notes and moved next to Gabe center stage. They started with older songs, ones composed for Gabe before they’d ever met Nick. Twangy numbers that reminded him of home and long summer nights and barbeques.
He glanced toward Zachary and felt the familiar connection.
Gabe whispered between songs, “Wanna do a solo?”
He was about to say no, felt the word come up from his nervous belly, but it changed to a weak yes as it exited his throat. Gabe retreated a step and turned the stage over to him.
Julian clutched the guitar tight. “Th-this is about
a soldier I never met. Coulda fought in any war, happened to be the Vietnam War. It’s called ‘One Name.’”
He sang to Zachary. It wasn’t intentional; Julian just couldn’t see anyone else. Sad and slow and soulful, the song’s melody spoke of futility and loss and… pride. Because this one soldier whose name he’d picked randomly from among thousands of others was a hero. And also just a boy. With a name.
As his soft baritone filled the bar, silence settled. He’d sung it one other time before an audience and the results were similar. Perhaps tonight’s crowd was slightly more receptive, but Julian really didn’t know because he was singing to one man, who was tearing up silently in the front row. Julian felt his own voice break slightly on the final chorus and knew Gabe was hovering in concern, but all Julian wanted was to jump offstage and kiss the tear off Zachary’s cheek.
The applause made him blink and stand shakily. Gabe put his arm around him, mumbling, “You okay?” as he pulled him offstage. Gabe didn’t wait for an answer. “Fuckin’ great song. Let’s get you a real drink.”
They settled at the table quickly, and Gabe ordered some tequila shots.
Julian avoided looking at Zachary even though he could feel the other man’s eyes burning him. If he looked, he’d want, want so much he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Instead he started meeting Gabe drink for drink. A mistake. Especially since the night was still young.
On their fourth round of shots, Gabe started calling him “Julie,” which he knew under penalty of death not to do around anyone else, but Gabe clearly didn’t mind dying that night.
“Julie,” Kat teased, also well on her way to a potential morning headache. “I’d love to hear about your new boyfriend.” She leaned in conspiratorially but in her tipsy state was unaware of how her singsong voice was carrying.
Nick pursed his lips upon hearing that, glancing between Julian and Zachary and Gabe, displeasure coloring his normally pale complexion. Julian cringed and wished he could hit a proverbial pause button and have some time to let the alcohol clear his system. It was a mistake to drink tonight, with Zachary here. Sweat poured down his temples because what could he do? It’s not like he could let everyone know what a crazy person he was right here and now. What would they think? They wouldn’t understand. Wouldn’t see it as self-preservation—they’d think Julian was, well, exactly as neurotically weird as Julian knew himself to be. Only worse, because now he was dishonest too. Then he wouldn’t have friends left. It wouldn’t just be romantic relationships he couldn’t maintain. It would be every relationship.
That’s when Zachary’s stare penetrated. He was clear-eyed and puzzled and sad. Like he didn’t want to hear Julian’s answer any more than Julian wanted to give it. He didn’t know how long they sat staring, only that suddenly Gabe stood and rounded behind him, placed a firm hand on his upper back. Leaning down, his best friend whispered, “I got your back.”
With a husky chuckle and a lingering shoulder squeeze, Gabe drawled, “Julie and I are together now.” Only Gabe could take tame words and make them drip sex. It didn’t hurt that his voice rasped like a quill over parchment.
The table was silent.
If Julian had any doubts about Gabe’s ability to sell them as a couple, one fleeting glance at Zachary confirmed it all. Sadness rooted in Zachary’s expressive eyes, turning them a weak tarnished gold.
And Julian sat there wondering why it felt like the heartbreak he’d been trying ridiculously hard to avoid had just dropped on him like an anvil in a Road Runner cartoon.
Chapter 3
THE ALARM blared hideously Friday morning, and Julian smacked it with more force than necessary, immediately regretting it because the thump went straight to the drum solo playing in his head.
Not again.
And he couldn’t even blame Gabe this time.
About fifteen minutes after Gabe had announced that he and Julian were a couple last night, Zachary left, with Kat and Brian immediately following, effectively breaking the group up. Julian sat frozen, his head at war with his heart.
Gabe remained oblivious, face showing only pride at a job well done. “Jules. He’s leaving. It’s okay now. I think it worked.”
The drinking started in earnest then. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but then again, Julian acknowledged he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box.
In the shower that morning, he convinced himself it was all for the best. He’d lied to Zachary to ultimately save a decent guy from having to run away from Julian’s annoyingness like a cat escaping a bath. It was a preemptive breakup, because if they dated, it was bound to blow up in Julian’s face. Just like the others. A voice inside shouted that Zachary wasn’t like the others. He told it to shut up but without much conviction.
Several painkillers later, Julian met Zachary at the Ritz to set up for the morning’s depositions. The process of arranging the recording devices and distributing legal pads and water glasses around the dining table were routine by now. They didn’t need to rehearse or even speak, which was good because neither seemed to have any words.
As the silence lasted nearly an hour, Zachary broke it first.
“Jules, I….”
The words went nowhere. Julian noted the nickname and remembered Zachary’s ambiguous comment about wanting to wait to use it. He didn’t know what it meant that Zachary was using it now, but it disappointed him.
“Yeah?” he asked.
Zachary looked down, shyness tempering his usual happy disposition. “I wanted to say how great the concert was. You especially.” His eyes came back up then, swirling around Julian’s face. “Your song. God, it was so beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
A knock at the door terminated the awkward conversation. “How many this morning?” Brian asked, heading toward the coffeepot.
“Two midlevel managers,” Julian answered. “Then three more coming in the afternoon who’ve already given a deposition that we have follow-up questions for.”
Brian whistled. “Full day.”
Julian risked a glance at Zachary, who stood gripping the back of a chair as if embarrassed of having been caught in an intimate moment. Apparently Brian didn’t notice anything and swiftly picked up the detailed notes Julian had prepared for him.
A half hour later, with only a few minutes before the employees and their attorneys were scheduled to arrive, Zachary disappeared into the bathroom.
Brian approached Julian and lowered his voice. “Jules. I wanted a private moment with you. I’m seeing some, um, awkwardness between you and Zach. We’re a small firm, and you know we keep it laid-back as long as things are appropriate. You and Zach are equals. Look, I feel like a damn teenager gossiping, but anyone could see that Zach has… had this huge crush on you. But nobody knew about you and Gabe. So, I’m going to ask you to tread easy around him, okay? I think he’s…” The silence went on a beat too long, and Julian felt the word “hurt” spike through him. “…really disappointed.”
Julian nodded numbly.
The following week was excruciating. The constant awareness that Julian was responsible for draining the vibrancy from Zachary’s face was damning. If there were an Academy Award for looking like a kicked puppy, Zachary would have been a lock for it. Although periodically, when Julian’s eyes would accidentally connect with the washed-out muddy brown Zachary’s eyes had now become, he would thump the guilt down like he was playing whack-a-mole and peevishly think Zachary should be thanking him—after all, Julian had sacrificed his own desires to save Zachary even worse grief down the road. At which point Julian would remember how he’d barely survived his previous relationships and then damn himself for being such a loser.
He found himself carrying his anxiety meds in his messenger bag, something he hadn’t done in months.
THE WEEK’S final depositions were done. Brian had returned to the office, leaving Zachary and Julian alone in the suite to compile their notes while waiting for the transcriptions to be emailed back. As per
their usual late-afternoon routine, they’d both rid themselves of their suits and ties. Relaxing in their jeans. Except it wasn’t the same.
“It’s unraveling,” Julian said to fill the awful quiet.
Zachary looked up from his notes. “Yeah. That last one, Mr. Stein, he admitted that the emails made him feel like he should table his findings.”
“You still think we’re gonna win? Because I hear Peterson doesn’t want to settle.”
“Yep. I do. In fact, I hope they don’t settle.”
Julian ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were already tired, and it was still early. “But even if the jury finds for us, they’ll appeal. By the time these folks ever see any money they’ll be dead.”
“Probably,” Zachary said solemnly.
“Well then why bother?”
“Because Peterson Pharmaceutical has deflected responsibility for years and hurt people. This lawsuit will shine a light on that. You’re right, it’s not about the money—not for the people who lost loved ones. For them, all it can be is about justice.”
“That’s not what it’s about for Harrison and the rest.”
“I know.”
He gave Zachary a crooked smile; he didn’t know what else to say. It was oddly disconcerting to have been proven so right about Zachary’s character. It gave him a strange combination of pride and sorrow.
“You wanna head out? Take a break, then come back and finish up?” Zachary asked suddenly. “I can’t sit here any longer. Let’s see if we can make it all the way to the Lincoln Memorial this time. Maybe sit on the steps? People watch. It’s what I do when….”
At the long pause, Julian asked, “When what, Zach?”
“When I wanna clear my mind.”
He hesitated a moment and then thought, what the hell, he could do with a change of atmosphere too. “Okay.” Julian slipped his key card in his back pocket and rummaged for his sunglasses again.
They walked briskly this time, didn’t stop, didn’t talk. Julian felt the difference like a lack of breathable air. He looked at the man walking next to him. He missed Zachary like someone had taken him away.
The Music of Love Page 5
