by Beth Bolden
“So you want to take things slow,” Benji clarified.
“We’ve waited a long time for this, don’t you want to enjoy the journey now that we’ve finally figured our shit out?” Diego questioned.
“Yeah, but I was really looking forward to the end of the journey too. Been a long time coming, that part.” Benji took a deep breath. “But you’re probably right. You’re usually right, so I’m perfectly okay trusting you on this.”
Someday, Diego wanted Benji to believe that he was as good at things as he actually was. “A good start, I think,” he said instead. He’d argued with Benji so many times over the years, whenever Benji thought he wasn’t good enough, but today wasn’t the time to bring that particularly sore subject up again.
Benji eyed the space between them on the couch. “Can I at least sit next to you and hold your hand?”
He couldn’t help it; Diego burst out laughing. There were so many reasons he loved this man. His dry sense of humor was absolutely one of them. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Diego was finally able to say.
“Good, because it was happening regardless of your permission,” Benji said, shooting him a cocky smile that went straight to his cock—which hadn’t exactly been uninterested in the last five minutes of conversation.
Like he promised, he slid over on the couch and carefully and deliberately picked up Diego’s hand, covering it with his big, callused palm. He squeezed slowly and then lifted it to his mouth, brushing a hot, damp kiss across the back. Diego shivered. He couldn’t believe how unbelievably sexy handholding could be, when it was with a person he’d been yearning for forever.
“Is this okay?” Benji asked, gaze intent on Diego’s face.
“More than fine,” Diego said in a low voice, and it was only how sure he had been of their agreed-upon path that kept him from climbing into Benji’s lap and damning moving slow to hell.
After a long moment of tracing intoxicating circles with his thumb into the sensitive crook of Diego’s hand, Benji spoke again.
“I took an Uber over here,” he said. “And the annoying driver was one of ten people on earth who’d actually listened to my solo album.”
Diego was surprised. Benji didn’t talk about his solo album these days unless absolutely forced. And since it had been such a disaster that everyone wanted to forget it almost immediately, that almost never happened.
But here Benji was, trying to make conversation, and doing it by bringing up something that Diego knew he didn’t want to talk about. It was almost heart-warming. Sad, but heart-warming.
“You know I didn’t think it was so bad,” Diego said.
Benji chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t think you get it; I’m already a sure thing. You don’t have to tell me anything to convince me to stick around.”
“I’m serious,” Diego said, and not for the first time, wished that Benji believed enough in his own talent. “It could’ve used a little more you, and a little less manufactured flavor, but it was better than any of us could’ve done.”
“Yeah, that’s not saying much,” Benji scoffed, but Diego could still see the pleased gleam in his eyes.
“I also like to tell myself you wrote ‘Violet’ about me,” Diego added. He’d thought so since the very first time he’d ever heard the song, but they’d never been in the right place for him to actually bring it up.
“And if I did?”
“Violet” had been the epic first single off Benji’s solo effort—melancholy and raw and hauntingly beautiful—and all about lost chances. It hadn’t exactly been the cookie-cutter stuff that overplayed on the radio, and it had been universally declared, “sort of weird.”
But the thing was, it was Diego’s kind of weird, and he’d always loved the song.
“You know I’d be flattered,” Diego said softly.
Benji pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He felt it all the way through his hair, past his skin and his skull and it resonated through his brain. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me. Maybe Benji hadn’t said it explicitly, but those three little words were there, in between everything he said.
And frankly, he wasn’t saying much that was different than normal. Maybe Benji had been telling him he loved him between the lines for longer than he wanted to think about.
“Why do I get the feeling we should’ve been saying this sort of thing to each other a long time ago?” Benji wondered out loud.
“We weren’t ready,” Diego said, and for the first time really accepted it. He’d been so angry, so frustrated, so lost for so long, and he’d never stopped believing they were wasting their time.
But if they hadn’t been ready, was it really time wasted? Wasn’t thinking that way essentially claiming that their rock-solid friendship was actually pointless? But it hadn’t been, and Diego knew he couldn’t think that way anymore.
They were here now and figuring their shit out. That was going to need to be enough.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was terrible timing, but the very next morning, Benji had a meeting with his agent—not the manager they’d newly hired to take care of Star Shadow business, but his solo manager, the one he’d hired right after the band had broken up and he’d been desperate to stay relevant.
Desperate to stay successful.
Maybe that desperation had driven him to choose someone that he might not have normally, because there was a slick, manufactured quality about Jay that Benji didn’t always like. But it was hard to argue with his methods when his results were so stellar.
Of course, not in Benji’s case, at least where his solo album was concerned, but then Jay was always quick to place the blame for that disaster squarely in Benji’s court. He’d warned him that the material wasn’t “commercial” enough. He’d wanted more production, more pop beats, more radio-friendly material. But Benji, who’d always considered himself a musician first, and a marketing construct second, had held his ground.
Maybe Jay had been right, because God knew the music hadn’t sold. Hadn’t gotten radio play. He’d barely even sold any tickets on his planned, then canceled, tour. But then maybe, Benji thought as he stared up at the framed platinum records behind Jay’s desk, Diego was right, and it hadn’t been that bad.
Jay had long since converted him to thinking that good equaled sales, and bad equaled no sales. Even though Benji longed for the former and wanted to avoid the latter at all costs, maybe revenue wasn’t everything.
“So everything is on hold,” Jay said, tapping his finger on the desk. Diamonds set in his heavy rings flashed in the California morning sun. “I’m glad you’re reuniting. Star Shadow is always going to be your bread and butter. You knew I thought you shouldn’t have been so quick to abandon it, even without Caleb.”
That had been their very first argument. Jay had started out the conversation about Benji’s solo career by claiming that it shouldn’t exist yet. He’d actually wanted Benji to call up Max and Leo and Diego and suggest recording a new album just the four of them. Basically pretending that Caleb didn’t exist, and wasn’t out there, lost in the world, drowning himself with booze.
Unsurprisingly Benji had drawn a firm line in the sand. Jay was hired to manage Benji’s solo career; he had no authority over anything Star Shadow-related.
“Everything is on hold,” Benji agreed.
“What about the music you’ve already recorded?” Jay asked.
Benji hadn’t told anyone else that he’d been working on new stuff. Not the faux-Drake of his last album, but more of his old style. But that had been before Caleb had reappeared and the tour and then the band officially reuniting.
“It sits, I guess,” Benji said with a shrug.
Jay continued to drum his fingers against the exotic wood desk. “The label won’t be happy about that. They took a chance on you by letting you record more material.”
Benji didn’t need Jay to remind him that he was no longer the slam-dunk success he’d once been. He’d been living it.
&nb
sp; “I’ve actually considered taking some of those songs and recording them as Star Shadow,” Benji offered.
“You can’t. That’s material you recorded for your solo label and isn’t transferrable,” Jay said.
“That’s annoying,” Benji huffed. “What if I give them something else?”
“Without promising to release new music anytime soon? I doubt that’s going to go over,” Jay pointed out.
“Fine,” Benji grumbled.
“I suggested we meet because I want to make sure your solo brand stays strong during this Star Shadow reunion,” Jay said. “I don’t want you getting lost in the whole Caleb Chance is back hysteria. Add on to that the attention he’s bringing with Leo, and it’s not good for you.”
Four years ago, Benji would have pointed out that his friends finding each other again was fucking wonderful, thank you very much, but he’d long ago learned that Jay considered anything good happening to other people bad news for Benji.
Jay was a snake, but at least he was Benji’s snake. And there’d been a time when he’d been so wildly desperate to continue the success that Star Shadow had begun that he hadn’t minded getting into bed with one.
“What do you suggest, since new music is out?” Benji asked.
“Your divorce has been final for what . . . three months?”
Benji did not like where this was going. “Almost, yeah.”
“Then it’s time to date again,” Jay said with one of those slick smiles, full of too-white teeth.
Exactly what Benji had had in mind, but he had a feeling that Jay wasn’t going to approve of who he’d picked. Diego was probably not high profile enough for what Jay had in mind, and was certainly a lot more masculine.
“Did you have someone in mind?” Benji asked.
“Rochelle Andrews,” Jay said.
Rochelle Andrews was an actual supermodel, one of the very first, and she was easily fifteen years older than Benji. Still gorgeous, of course, and still popular and successful.
If Benji hadn’t been in love with Diego and for the first time certain that the feelings were returned, he might have been a little tempted. But he was and Diego did, so he just shook his head.
“Seriously?” Jay demanded. “You don’t want to date a supermodel?”
“Is it really dating if it’s all fake?” Benji asked. He knew Jay and knew he wasn’t volunteering to set Benji up with one of the most successful models in the world to fulfill a deep-seated need to bring more happiness and love into the world.
“Does it matter? Fake, real, it’s all relative.”
It wasn’t really, but Jay was really good at persuading people to think so.
And manipulating. Jay was aces at that too. He was even doing it now, and sometimes Benji let him, because the results were usually good, but this was something he felt strongly about.
“I’m not sure,” Benji hedged. It was always hard to tell Jay no upfront. It was better, and usually easier, to shift him to your own point of view carefully and slowly. A straight no always meant Jay hitting the panic button—and the panic button meant a fully armed persuasive onslaught designed to change your mind.
“Did you have someone other than the world’s most beautiful woman in mind?” Jay asked in disbelief.
Yeah, he actually did. Someone he considered the world’s most beautiful man.
“You know I don’t like fake relationships,” Benji said, which was completely true. He’d never liked them, but he’d especially not liked them after Leo had had a perfectly nice girl foisted on him. They’d had to pretend to date for over a year, and nobody had liked it.
Jay didn’t look concerned in the slightest. He’d never really cared about what Benji liked and didn’t like, and probably wasn’t about to start now.
“You didn’t like that Leo had a beard,” Jay pointed out. “You’ve never tried it.”
“What if it was a real relationship?” Benji asked, trying to be casual about it. There was no way that Diego was ever going to want their relationship—especially their brand-new, complicated-as-fuck relationship—to be used for publicity, and on top of that Benji still wasn’t sure he wanted to announce his sexuality publicly, but he figured he might as well float the idea just to see what Jay thought.
“Who is it?”
“Diego.”
Benji could count on one hand the number of times Jay had seemed truly surprised in the last five years of working together. Today, his jaw dropped and he looked stunned. “Diego from your band, Diego from Star Shadow?” he demanded.
It was hard to regret bringing it up at all when Jay looked that shocked.
“But he’s . . . you’re . . .” Jay could barely get out a sentence that made sense.
“Bisexual, yeah,” Benji said quietly. He didn’t know how Leo and Caleb had come out once, never mind how often they really had to do it. Every day, sometimes, based on what they’d told him. He definitely did not feel ready to do it once—never mind that often.
“Well,” Jay said. “That’s new.”
It wasn’t, but how could Jay be really all that surprised Benji hadn’t told him?
“I’m guessing you didn’t want to publicize this before,” Jay said.
Still don’t, Benji thought.
“We’d be battling Leo and Caleb for the attention,” Jay continued thoughtfully, “but it’s not a terrible idea, actually.”
“I’m really not sure I want to battle them for anything, especially for all the attention they’re getting,” Benji admitted. He remembered the pack of paparazzi that had followed him and Leo on their jog a few days ago. Leo didn’t like it either, but he’d gotten pragmatic about it. The last thing Benji wanted was to get so used to it that he barely even noticed anymore.
“But that’s the point of this,” Jay objected. “The attention is the whole point.”
It was undeniable now, Benji greatly regretted bringing Diego’s name up at all. “Just . . . forget it. It’s too new between me and Diego, we’re still figuring stuff out.”
“Easy then,” Jay said, scaring Benji because he didn’t look upset at the change of plans, “you date Diego in private, and Rochelle in public. Great solution.”
“I really don’t want to date Rochelle at all,” Benji said grimly.
“Listen.” Jay leaned forward across the desk, and not for the first time, Benji was reminded of one of those birds of prey, gaunt and fierce and a little bit cruel. “You’ve got to do something to raise your profile. Set you apart during the reunion. You’ll fade right into the background, and I know you don’t want that. That’s why you came to me the first time, because you were afraid you’d just become one of those guys. And it’s going to happen again.”
He’d been such a mess back then, desperate and panicked, and in something very much like mourning for Star Shadow—and for Leo. But as bad as things had been then, he couldn’t deny that he still felt an echo of the same feelings now. What if he faded into the background? What if Leo and Caleb, already verging on legitimate power couple status, took over? What if Benji became obsolete, forgotten? What if all those five years of work ended up becoming worthless?
That was completely unacceptable.
“I’ll think about it,” Benji finally said.
He didn’t want to, but unless they came up with a better idea, what could he do? Worst of all, it would definitely complicate his brand-new relationship with Diego.
He wasn’t going to want to see Benji out with some supermodel, doting on her in public, while Diego stayed in the background, hidden and forgotten.
———
“You really think this is date material?” Diego asked as he lounged in the big stuffed chair outside Benji’s dressing room. “Me watching you try on clothes?”
Benji smirked in the mirror as he buttoned up a shirt. “I never said it was a date. I just asked you if you wanted to come with me and you said okay.”
“It might be a little more like a date if I was in there, seein
g you take your clothes off,” Diego grumbled.
He couldn’t help it; the laughter just burst out of him. Truthfully, even with Jay freaking him out earlier today, he hadn’t felt this light in years. Like things were finally falling into place. Star Shadow had gotten back together, and he and Diego were figuring their shit out.
“It might also get us arrested for public indecency,” Benji pointed out. “And I think we should leave that to Leo and Caleb.”
“Hmm,” Diego said noncommittally, which made Benji want to pull the door open, screw him being half-naked, and demand to know what that meant. Did Diego want to risk public indecency?
“Why do you even have a stylist anyway?” Diego continued, before Benji could quell his nerves and actually open the door to ask.
“Don’t you have one?” Benji pulled on the pants and made a face in the mirror. Impossibly these pants made him look skinny and fat at all the same time.
There was a long silence out in the waiting area. “No?” Diego finally said. “Why would I need one? Again, why do you?”
Benji stared at himself in the mirror. “Not to pick out pants like this, that’s for fucking sure.”
“Lemme see,” Diego demanded, and for the first time since they’d shown up to his stylist’s office, he sounded like he wasn’t mostly bored as hell.
What had Benji been thinking, texting him to meet him here? Well, that was actually pretty easy. He’d been thinking it had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d kissed Diego and, now that he could, that twenty-four hours was too long to go without. And he’d figured that after the stylist appointment, they could go grab dinner somewhere, walk along the Malibu pier, maybe even make out like teenagers.
Maybe it hadn’t started out in his mind like a date, but he did remember that Diego had pointed out that they hadn’t ever been on one, and he’d wanted to change that as quickly as possible.
“You want to see me in ugly pants?” Benji questioned.
“Maybe I just want to see you. You’ve been in there so long, I was beginning to think you’d escaped out the back.” Diego’s voice was sly, teasing—and really fucking cute, if Benji was being honest.
