The Music of Love

by Sandine Tomas

  “Packing up.”

  Zachary nodded curtly. Julian looked at him, body catching up and starting to reach forward, but Zachary stiffened and pulled back. And something inside Julian just. Died.

  “Zach?” Julian knew his voice was hardly more than a squeak, but something was so very wrong. Gabe and Nick appeared suddenly in Julian’s peripheral vision, took one look at their frozen postures, and immediately backed away.

  “We’ll give you two some space,” Nick said. “Take your time, Jules.”

  The bar was emptying out since the bartender had already announced last call. Not that it mattered, because Julian couldn’t see beyond the stiff stance of the man before him. Julian’d mistakenly thought Zachary was about to break up with him before. He’d freaked and been wrong and had done many a stupid thing.

  Only this time it didn’t feel like Zachary was about to do anything. It looked like it had already happened and Julian just hadn’t gotten the memo. And for once Julian wasn’t freaking, he was getting mad. Because. What the fuck? Except Julian wasn’t the only angry one. Zachary tilted his head toward the stage. “Where’s Randy?”

  Julian blinked. “What?”

  Zachary’s eyes narrowed. “You heard me.”

  “You came all this way to see Randy?”

  Zachary released this unrecognizable bitter laugh. “Yeah. I’m a masochist that way. Well?”

  Julian turned around. Randy must be backstage. Maybe she was outside already. But why did that matter? What did she have to do with anything?

  Before Julian could say anything further, Zachary continued, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I thought I could do this. But I can’t.”

  “Zach, what the fuck, man? You don’t talk to me. Barely seem to care if I’m still alive. Then you show up here and tell me you can’t handle it. ’S not like you even tried.”

  “Talk to you? So I could hear more about the person taking you away from me? You left first. You left me.” Zachary’s voice broke.

  “I thought you understood. I thought you wanted this for me?” Julian felt the tears prickle. He should have known. You couldn’t have it all. Especially if you were Julian. Two months apart and they were done. What did it say about what they had in the first place?

  “Jules, we’ll wait in the van, okay?” Randy called out.

  He looked over his shoulder and nodded.

  “Who’s that, your newest groupie?” Zachary growled at him.

  “That was Randy. And if you weren’t being such an asshole, I’d introduce you.”

  Zachary snorted. “Right. How stupid do you think I am?”

  Julian rolled his eyes. “Plenty stupid.”

  “Like I’d believe that ninety-nine pound chick was your drummer.”

  Julian glared at Zachary. “That is our drummer.”

  Zachary’s eyes continued to contradict. His lips parted as if to speak before closing with nothing more than air leaking out. “Buh-but that’s not. You never said….”

  Once in a while Julian was gifted with quickness. Didn’t happen often. But this time he felt like the stage lights were on and everything was suddenly lit with perfect clarity.

  “You assumed Randy was a dude.” Zachary nodded. “But I must have mentioned—”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh.” The anger returned swift and harsh. “You thought I was cheating on you?” It hurt coming out of his throat like he’d swallowed acid. How could Zachary ever think that Julian would….

  “No. Well, not exactly. It’s just that you were sharing the room, and saying how much you were bonding. And Marc….”

  Julian’s anger took on a distinct blond, beady-eyed shape. “What did Marc say?”

  “It’s not his fault. In fact, he told me to come talk to you and see what was up.” Zachary buckled and steadied himself on the merch table, face whitening to ghost. “Oh fuck. Julian—I am so sorry.”

  Julian’s anger dissipated like a flash flood. Zachary looked wrecked, tears started to trail down his cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet Julian’s eyes. Julian had been on the other end of a freak-out enough times to understand the importance of forgiveness.

  He wrapped his arms tight around Zachary and pulled him against his chest. “You’re an idiot.”

  Zachary held on tighter, voice muffled. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I know. Me too. Like a missing limb.”

  He pressed his lips to Zachary’s face, tasting the salt of his tears. “C’mon. They want to close up. Let’s go outside.”

  The air felt good. Calming. They both sucked in deep breaths and tried to steady their racing hearts. He looked up to face the saddest expression he’d ever seen. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll be okay. I love you.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” Zachary said.

  Julian fought his inner self’s need to disagree and point out that the opposite was most certainly true. Instead, he pulled Zachary down for a kiss. Warm and salty and so good after so long. God, he’d missed this. Missed this man. He worked his tongue deeper, seeking more touch, more pleasure, more Zachary.

  Zachary moaned into his mouth, hot and needy. “I love you. Love you so much.”

  Not-so-subtle throat clearing drew them slightly apart. Zachary didn’t let go completely, and Julian understood. Kept his hand on Zachary’s back.

  “How ya doin’, Zach?” Gabe asked. The rest of the band hovered right behind him looking awkward as fuck.

  “Better now.” Zachary tried to smile, but Julian could tell the adrenaline that swished through his body was still keeping him on edge.

  “Needed to see your boy?”

  Zachary nodded.

  Julian rubbed Zachary’s back once. “Randy, this is Zachary.”

  Zachary shook the woman’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, voice wry. “You’re kinda all Julian talks about.” She gave Julian a wink at that.

  “Yeah. Well that’s just to balance out your talking about L.J.,” Julian shot back.

  “L.J.?” Zachary questioned.

  “My husband.”

  Zachary met Julian’s eyes again but said nothing. Julian tore his gaze away and looked at Gabe. “How much time we have?” Julian knew the plan had been to drive straight through to their next gig and catch up on sleep in the morning.

  Gabe looked from him to Zachary. “About a half hour. Okay?”

  “You’re not… you’re not spending the night here?” Zachary asked.

  Julian explained and watched Zachary fight back disappointment. “Okay. Then I’ll drive back tonight. I have work tomorrow, would have had to leave in a few hours anyway.”

  Julian heard what wasn’t said. A few hours they could have at least spent together. This sucked so bad it defied words. He followed Zachary back toward his car, calling to Gabe over his shoulder that he’d be back soon. His band members were silent.

  Ensconced in Zachary’s car, they turned toward each other. “We should talk,” Julian said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wanna tell me what happened?”

  “You already know. I heard about Randy. Assumed things and made a jackass of myself.”

  “Zach. Even if Randy were a guy. And gay. Even if he were a six-foot-five Viking like Sven… I’d never, ever cheat on you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t sleep with someone else. It wasn’t that—wait, what?”

  “What what?”

  “You think Sven is a six-foot-five Viking?”

  “Isn’t he?”

  Zachary smiled. Finally. “No. More like a five-foot-five gnome.”

  Julian released a hearty chortle that came from deep in his belly and caused his head to tilt back. “Guess we both had some mighty whacky ideas.”

  He sobered up quickly and met Zachary’s eyes again. “Zach. I’m not going to fall for someone else while I’m touring. I didn’t start touring to find someone else. I needed to find me. And I can’t even imagine loving anyone as much as I love you.”

/>   “Me neither. That’s why I couldn’t just let you go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “It just seemed… emotionally, like you had someone… someone not me.”

  “I like Randy. She helps. It’s not like I can say I know what I’m doing yet. She seemed to have it under control. Her marriage is strong. And she’s easy to talk to. Like Meg or Marc is for you.”

  Zachary looked sheepish. “I get that now. And I’m glad you have her.”

  “Especially since she has boobs?”

  Zachary looked down. Julian leaned in and raised his chin up, made those mercurial eyes meet his. “Nobody is closer to me than you. Not Gabe. Not anybody.”

  Zachary kissed him hard and deep. “Me too. I haven’t felt like myself in months. Because you’re not there.”

  Julian thought about Zachary lonely and vulnerable and fucking Marc preying on him. Making him question. His anger seethed. “Zach?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You really have to stop listening to Marc. I don’t know what his issues are with me. But it’s becoming a problem.”

  “It’s not Marc’s fault. I know it sounds like it is, but it’s not. I did this to myself. Drove myself crazy with my insecurities. I know Marc’s not your number one fan. And he’s got a protective side that gets creepy. I do get it. It’s just we go back years, and deep down he does want me happy. That’s why he sent me after you.”

  Sure, happy. Probably was hoping you’d catch me in flagrante with the hot male drummer. Because he didn’t think Marc would ever equate happy and dating Julian as a possible combination.

  Zachary brought his lips back to his and Julian let himself pour everything he had into kissing Zachary. The thought of letting him go hurt down to his bones.

  “If anyone should apologize for insecurities, it should be me. Your one freak-out compared to how many of mine?” He chuckled, but it came out like there was a rock in his throat.

  “One month,” Zachary breathed against his neck.

  “Yeah. Just about.”

  “Come home to me?”

  Julian pulled back to be sure Zachary saw his eyes. “Every time.”

  Chapter 11

  ZACHARY CALLED every day now. Before Zachary had left him in Virginia, they’d made a pact that the only way they’d get through the separation was to talk as much as possible. As the days passed, Gabe threw Julian a worried glance here and there, but mostly he was wrapped up in the logistics of making the last week of their tour go smooth.

  “Aced my ethics class,” Zachary sang into the phone before even saying hello. It was late and the club smell still lingered on Julian, but he’d declined going out with the rest of the band for food to be able to have a private chat with Zachary. Better than a greasy burger any day.

  Stretching on the motel room’s rough bedspread, Julian smiled. “Knew you would.”

  “Thanks for studying with me.”

  Over the past few days, Zachary had emailed some study notes, and Julian had quizzed him periodically via texts and some calls. He let him work out cases and precedence and layer his arguments in a similar manner to how Julian layered his songs. Working like that with Zachary reminded Julian of the parts of the paralegal job he honestly had enjoyed.

  “You don’t need to thank me. I like hearing you talk law.”

  A rustle on the other end made Julian imagine that Zachary had also stretched out his long legs on their oh-so-soft and much missed bed. “I like hearing you talk too.” There was a pause that filled Julian’s head with ideas even before Zachary asked, “You alone?”

  One intriguing discovery had been Zachary’s absolute kink regarding Julian’s voice. “Noticed it before we ever met,” Zachary had admitted. Julian had found it amusing that Zachary had been turned on by a random voice from behind a cubicle wall.

  “Yep,” he answered. “The Cowboys are getting food.”

  “What about you? Aren’t you hungry? Shouldn’t you eat too?”

  It warmed Julian to his toes how Zachary was always taking care of him, even from this distance. He wriggled said toes and hit Speaker on his iPhone. “I’m hungry. But not for food.”

  The silence was filled with shuffling sounds, and Julian shut his eyes to imagine Zachary pulling off his pajama bottoms, if he was even wearing them. “Will you talk to me?” The request was breathy and soft, and Julian’s heart pulsed.

  “Of course, baby.”

  “I’m thinking of our first time.”

  Slipping down his jeans and underwear, Julian took himself in hand, idly stroking. “Yeah? First time I fucked you? Or first time I went down on you? Or first time I—”

  The sigh was pronounced. Ah, thought Julian, perhaps all of it. “Your mouth…,” Zachary replied, gentle like a breeze wisping past reeds.

  “Tasting you,” Julian replied. “Love how you taste, warm, gentle, honey silk, bursting in my mouth like a dulcet rush.”

  Zachary moaned, and the distinct rhythmic murmurs of him pleasuring himself spilled from the speaker. Joining, Julian urged, “Yeah, give it to me, fuck, my mouth is watering for you, wanna touch you, feel you under me, over me. Oh, oh fuck….”

  “Wuh-want you,” Zachary stuttered as his breathing peaked like a cabaletta before falling away to a soporific silence.

  It didn’t take much after that for Julian to follow him over the cliff.

  He needed to shower but settled temporarily for the tissues he kept bedside. He’d have to open the windows so Randy wouldn’t immediately know, although she probably did know, because after he got some alone time she always gave him that crooked grin.

  “Jesus,” Zachary uttered. Laughing, Julian nodded, even though Zachary couldn’t see him. “I cannot wait till you come home.”

  “I know. I’ll be home soon.”

  “It feels like we can start living again then,” Zachary admitted so softly that Julian wondered if he realized he’d said it aloud.

  “Love you,” Julian replied before disconnecting.

  In the shower, he couldn’t help but turn Zachary’s words around in his head. If they weren’t living, then what were they doing? Except, from the moment he’d heard Zachary’s escaped words, Julian’s heart had agreed. This, the touring, joining The Last Cowboys, was supposed to be an answer. Then why did he still feel like a cleaved version of himself, one foot in two worlds and terrified that he wasn’t really living in either one?

  THE HIGHLIGHT of The Last Cowboys tour was an engagement in Kennesaw, Georgia, an outdoor festival to open for Dierks Bentley. Gabe and Nick had met him in Kentucky at a Bluegrass festival three years ago, and a connection had been forged. Julian was starstruck and really excited. But then again this was the next to last stop of the tour. He’d be home with Zachary in a week. The idea both scared him and made him deliriously happy.

  He didn’t have any plans. A true first for Julian. Well, other than exploring every inch of Zachary’s gorgeous body for hours on end. That might drift into days given how horny he was. Three months without his boyfriend? Not fun.

  So in the morning they were heading off to Kennesaw, a four-hour drive from where they’d crashed after last night’s gig. The same morning Gabe was all nervous about setting off on time and not being late and this is Dierks fucking Bentley and they needed to look like goddamn professionals at least once. Yeah. That morning. Julian was in the bathroom, about to shower, and figured letting off some tension before such an important day would be a good idea.

  He locked the door as always, because Randy was used to being married, which seemed to give her this sense that it’s all right to just burst into the bathroom and use the mirror no matter who else was in there. And, no. Julian being gay definitely did not make that okay.

  Julian was quick. Both showering and doing other things. Kept it efficient and simple. Held Zachary’s image in his mind, on his knees, looking up at him with a hungry look while his mouth…. Um. Yeah. Didn’t take that long. He wrapped himself in a towel and we
nt to get dressed, except the door didn’t open. What the hell? Was he to be perpetually cursed by motel bathrooms?

  After fighting it for a few minutes, he started knocking and calling out Randy’s name. Only she’d gone out to put her stuff in the trailer, and it was at least half an hour till she came back in the room and heard Julian pounding. Randy quickly tried the knob. Came off in her hand. She swore. Which she usually didn’t. Said she’d get help.

  His watch was in the bedroom, so Julian didn’t know how long till Gabe came. Felt like hours. Gabe was not pleased. “What the fuck you doing in there, you had to lock the damn door?”

  Julian didn’t answer.

  The stupid door resisted all the curse words Gabe threw at it, so he finally got the motel’s hapless manager, who said he thought he could get it open with a screwdriver. And played around with it for at least another week before conceding he’d have to call a locksmith. Who said it would be about two hours till he could get there. Which—no. Not gonna work. Gabe argued with the manager for another chunk of time they didn’t have to spare, before yelling “Fuck this! Stand back, Julie!” and the door came crashing into the small room. Julian was nearly crushed, but, hey, he was out of the bathroom.

  When they finally pulled into the performers’ parking area, the litany of swear words from Gabe had become an incoherent growl. Twenty-two minutes to completely unload, plug in, sound check, and be ready to play. Julian was ready to throw himself in front of the van and let Gabe kill him for fucking up the single most important gig of the whole three months.

  “Jesus, where the hell have you guys been?” was the greeting from a sweaty, cigarette-smoking man who motioned them to pull up right behind the stage.

  No one bothered to answer; they all swarmed the trailer as Gabe undid the padlock. Forty minutes was their minimum setup allotment. Gabe handed down the guitars and Nick’s bass, and Randy and Julian carted them up the backstage stairs.

  They were never going to make it.

  Nick shoved a monitor at Julian as he was halfway back down the stairs. “Of all the damned gigs to be late for.”