by Beth Bolden
But then Diego yawned, and Benji realized that this was what he’d meant when he said he wanted to take things slow. The physical side of their relationship—if he was using last night in the car as any indication, would be easier to figure out. This was the part they needed to work on: just dating.
“I’d better be getting home,” Benji said, and knew he’d made the right decision when Diego smiled.
“It is kinda late,” Diego agreed. “But I hate to see you go.”
Benji hated to go too, but he’d also promised to uphold Diego’s wishes.
“Yeah, but it’s time,” he said gently, and stood up. Diego followed him to the front door, and Benji was considering just ending the evening with a hug. But at the last moment, Diego glanced up at him, clearly hopeful and interested, and not kissing him was impossible.
Benji leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips. Diego exhaled in happy surprise, and then reached out for him, grabbing him and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
For a breathless moment, they kissed and kissed, and it felt like a microcosm of all the waiting they’d done in their lives. All that pent-up yearning, condensed down to one heart-stopping moment. But then Diego pulled away, and his smile was quiet, luminous.
“Thank you for dinner,” Benji said.
“Thank you for the flowers,” Diego said. “Text me when you’re home safe. Drivers in LA are fucking crazy—you included.”
Benji remembered how he’d driven here and couldn’t help but grin bashfully. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’ll be careful.”
Reaching up, Diego pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’d better,” he said, “because you’re driving someone very important to me.”
It didn’t occur to Benji who Diego was even referring to until he was in his car, headed home, and then he realized, it was him. He was who was so important to Diego. And after that, he couldn’t stop smiling all the way back to his own house.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day, it was hard for Diego not to feel a pulse of guilt for letting Benji go with only that one, incredible goodnight kiss. He’d planned on so much more. Even with the misunderstanding they’d had over Diego’s version of “Violet,” he’d still wanted more. But while they were watching the movie, his nerves and doubts had spiked, and then he’d let them get the best of him.
He just hoped that Benji didn’t mistakenly correlate his reticence to further their physical relationship with the disagreement they’d had over “Violet.”
While Benji’s reaction had been disappointing, Diego couldn’t say that he was really all that surprised. Benji defined himself by his accomplishments, and he carried the embarrassment of that solo album around with him, a cloud he couldn’t shake. Diego had wanted so badly to alter his impression of the song, and to an extent, the album, but maybe he’d gone about it wrong.
But no matter how against the idea of re-recording the song Benji was, Diego had no intention of giving up so easily. There was something there, brilliance lingering in between the beats and the notes and the rhythm. And he still couldn’t let go of the idea of the two of them, singing it together, Diego on the piano, Benji with just his acoustic guitar.
Just as he was tackling washing last night’s dishes, his phone dinged. Glancing at it, he saw it was Vicky, wondering if he’d found security for his trip with Ana to Disneyland next week. Damnit, he’d meant to ask Benji, but he’d gotten so distracted by their date, and then all his general Benji-ness. Especially the affection and emotion in his eyes when he’d given Diego the flowers, and then the shirt that had made the most of his incredible biceps.
Basically: Benji had been one huge distraction after another.
Wiping his wet hands on a towel, Diego tapped back a quick message to Vicky, telling her he was taking care of it. Then he dialed Benji, who answered on the second ring.
“Hey, what’s up?” Benji asked.
“You didn’t text me to tell me you got home safe,” Diego teased, using a faux-stern voice. Flirting, while always a pleasurable thing to do with Benji, had grown far more enjoyable and far more loaded. Now they weren’t just making vague promises that would never be kept—the next time they saw each other, anything could happen, and it gave a whole new edge to their usual banter.
“You could’ve driven over to make sure I was safe,” Benji ribbed back. Just the thought made Diego’s insides warm and gooey. He could’ve. He could have showed up at his front door, and when Benji answered, he probably would have been mostly naked. And then the evening definitely wouldn’t have ended with just one goodnight kiss.
“I wish I had. Next time,” Diego promised. He hoped that was enough so that Benji wouldn’t lose patience with him—but most of all, that Benji wouldn’t feel undesirable. Because while sex wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with, he wanted it with Benji so damn badly.
“Good.” Benji’s voice was suddenly rougher. Diego couldn’t help but remember that little noise of surprise and arousal Benji had made in the back of his throat when he’d pulled him back for a second, hotter, deeper, wetter kiss.
“I actually called,” Diego said, “because I was wondering if you knew anyone that does security. Vicky is adamant that I bring someone to Disneyland next week with Ana.” He gave a disgruntled sigh. “It’s not like I’m Leo or Caleb, with a pack of bloodsuckers following me around.”
“Yeah, but it can get pretty packed there,” Benji said, and the concern in his voice made Diego wonder if he should be more concerned. “You don’t want to be mobbed.”
That sounded like fucking hell on earth. The worst part about fame and fortune was that everyone always thought they deserved a piece of you.
“No,” Diego said decisively. “So, do you know anyone?”
“Actually I do. Tall, like six foot, has some strength, dependable, pretty calm in a crisis. That sound okay?”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Okay, what day are you going again?” Benji asked, and it sounded like he’d flipped Diego on speakerphone. Probably to find this security wunderkind’s phone number.
Vicky would be pleased, and Diego wouldn’t lose any sleep over the idea that he’d ruined Ana’s life by exposing her to an unkind world.
“Next Tuesday.”
“Awesome,” Benji said. “I’m free.”
Diego hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Benji to go. In fact, once he’d thought of it, it made perfect sense for Benji to go. But it was such a public place, and even with a security guy, Diego couldn’t help but be worried that someone would see something they weren’t ready to reveal yet. And to pull Ana into that?
“Tall, six foot?” Benji pointed out patiently. “And I’ve definitely got a little strength. Dependable, calm in a crisis, that was me I was referring to. You don’t need security. I can take care of any problems that might crop up.”
Vicky had expressly said that the security couldn’t be one of Diego’s friends, but Benji made a good point. He was frankly more aware and protective than a regular security detail would be.
“How about this? I’ll even wear black, and those god-awful aviator sunglasses. Just to make sure I look legit.”
If it was anyone else, Diego would have said no. When he and Vicky divorced, he’d not expected to date anytime soon, considering that Benji had still been married. Still, he’d promised himself that he would always keep Ana out of any relationship he did have, until it was serious.
But Benji had known Ana almost from the first moment she was born, and any relationship with him was automatically sort of serious, considering the repercussions if it failed.
“I’m going to hold you to the sunglasses,” Diego said, and Benji laughed.
“I’ll make sure to find some,” Benji promised. “Why don’t we take my car service?”
Diego rolled his eyes even though Benji currently couldn’t see him. “Okay, if you insist.”
“And did you call and get on the VI
P list?”
“VIP list?” Diego questioned.
“You’re a terrible celebrity,” Benji said reproachfully with a chuckle. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” Diego demanded in faux-outrage.
“You know you’re goddamned gorgeous,” Benji grumbled. “Now you’re just searching for compliments.”
“Maybe,” Diego teased. “Maybe you should call me a work of art again.”
“Maybe I will.” Benji’s voice had dropped down again, nearly a rough growl, and it sent a spike of arousal up Diego’s spine.
“Maybe you should do it in person,” Diego said softly.
“We’ll see. I’ll have my PA call up Disney and get us on the VIP list. We don’t want to make Ana wait to go on Dumbo.” Benji was obviously changing the subject, and Diego had to push down that little pulse of guilt again. The worst was he understood exactly where Benji was coming from; what was the point of getting all worked up if, when they got together, Diego froze again?
Of course there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t freeze again, but chances were good that “taking things slow” was going to utterly live up to its reputation.
“I appreciate it. As will Ana, I’m sure.”
“Ana isn’t even two yet,” Benji said, and the awkwardness had disappeared from his voice. “I’m more trying to save us from epic boredom, waiting in line for Dumbo.”
“Noted,” Diego said and hesitated. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“I’m actually going to New York for some meetings,” Benji said and he sounded regretful. “This trip has been planned for awhile; I’d cancel it if I could.”
Diego shook off his disappointment. Unlike him, Benji had a brand and a persona, and worked hard for both. There was no reason they should spend every day of their break together—even if they were trying to figure out this dating thing. “No, that’s cool. I’ll see you next Tuesday morning then?”
“Bright and early,” Benji promised, and then hung up.
He wasn’t proud of it, but after finishing the dishes, Diego moped around the house. It had never seemed too big before, or particularly empty, but today it did.
If he’d known Benji was going to New York this weekend, would he have tried to fight harder through his reticence? Diego wasn’t sure, and the uncertainty bothered him.
He did one yoga lesson off his favorite DVD, and then another one, holding each pose until his muscles burned.
When he got out of the shower, there was a text from Caleb on his phone. Way back in time, before Caleb had disappeared, he and Diego had been very close. In fact, that was how Diego had even gotten an “audition”—if they were even calling playing for a sixteen-year-old Benji any sort of audition—because he’d known Caleb, and Caleb and Leo were both in Star Shadow and also incredibly into each other.
“Come meet my boyfriend,” Caleb had said, looking way more bashful than someone so attractive had the right to be. “He and his friend have a pretty cool band. They could use a keyboard player.”
Diego had been interested in meeting Leo, but very dubious about this “pretty cool band,” and he’d almost told Caleb not to bother. But then he’d shown up, met Benji’s eyes across the room and felt the attraction from the top of his skull to the soles of his feet. It had burned through him, like he’d never felt before, and so he’d auditioned.
Otherwise he might never see this guy again, and that was an even worse crime than the horribly cheesy band name that Leo and Caleb were so damn excited about.
Anyway, back then, when Caleb wasn’t completely preoccupied by Leo, he and Diego had been close. But all that had changed when Caleb disappeared to deal with his demons, and Star Shadow had effectively broken up.
Even after Caleb returned, and after all the apologies, Diego still didn’t know how to find his footing in their friendship again. And Caleb, quiet and kind and generous, had mostly left him alone, waiting for him to figure out what he wanted again.
This was one of the first times he’d texted Diego directly, not the whole group, since he’d been back in LA.
Leo busy tonight. Having a firepit at the beach house. Interested?
Even with five years of silence possibly destroying their friendship, Caleb still knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t want to come by and deal with Leo’s interrogation over his developing relationship with Benji.
It was that little detail that convinced Diego he should go. Also, he should go because if he stayed in this house for another minute, he wouldn’t be responsible for the outcome.
He picked up the phone and texted back: Sure, be there in an hour.
———
Technically when he’d come back to LA from the tour, Caleb had moved in to his own loft, but evidence did not point to him ever being in it. Instead, he seemed to have already moved back in to the house he and Leo had once shared.
It felt like just yesterday when Diego had stood on this doorstep, dreading telling Leo that Caleb was back and that he was holding the rest of the band legal hostage. But it hadn’t been just yesterday, that had been six months ago, and now everything was different.
Star Shadow was officially back together, Caleb was back in the fold, and he and Leo had also made it very official. Nobody who had seen any of the shows would have ever doubted it, but during the last handful, after they’d officially gotten back together? You could see their love from space.
Diego raised his hand to knock on the door, but Caleb opened it before he could, shifting self-consciously from one foot to the other.
Something the world had not caught onto about Caleb Chance was that for supposedly the “coolest guy in the universe,” he was absolutely awkward and more than a little lame. Diego supposed he saw it more clearly than anyone else—though maybe Leo was the exception—because he’d known Caleb such a long time, and back then, when they’d first become friends, all he’d been was a tall, gangly, graceless, music nerd.
It was still difficult for Diego to reconcile that boy with the man in front of him with the serious green eyes.
“Hey,” Caleb said, “I’m really glad you came.”
Diego shot him an arch look. “As long as you don’t want to talk about Benji, or have any questions from Leo about Benji, I’m good.”
Caleb laughed and did not look even the tiniest bit surprised. “I swear, mum’s the word.”
“Thank God,” Diego muttered.
Knocking their shoulders together as they walked through the house, toward the kitchen, Caleb just said, “I’m not saying he didn’t ask, but that isn’t what this is about.”
Diego watched as Caleb went to the big double-doored stainless steel fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. He grabbed one after Caleb tossed it his direction. “Then what’s this about? You were bored and thought you’d text me and see if I didn’t want to talk about Benji?”
And yeah, maybe he was being a little harsh, but Diego didn’t know how to go about being friends with Caleb anymore. Max and he had made their peace. Benji had kept his distance, mostly because he was Leo’s best friend. Diego thought he might still be a little pissed at having to pick up all of Leo’s broken pieces five years ago. But despite that, things still weren’t awkward between Benji and Caleb.
Between Caleb and Diego? Things were definitely awkward.
Caleb sighed. “I know you’ve been avoiding me since I came back.”
“We went on a tour together, I could hardly avoid you then,” Diego pointed out, because it turned out he was terrible at direct confrontation, even when it was phrased in Caleb’s decidedly non-confrontational tone.
“You didn’t use to drift toward Benji that much, but now you do. I guess another thing I missed out on,” Caleb said, his voice bitter around the edges. “I missed you two finally figuring your shit out.”
“Uh, no,” Diego corrected. “First, I thought this was a Benji-free zone, and second, we haven’t even gotten close to figuring our shit
out yet.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Caleb said, which was probably bullshit, because of the whole brain-sharing thing with Leo. “But I was actually referring to you guys becoming closer friends.” He picked at the label on his water bottle. “That used to be us.”
“Yeah. Well. You were gone. Benji wasn’t. He was right here.”
“I know.” He sounded both apologetic and wrecked. Diego didn’t know how he did it; faced the reality of what he’d done every single damn day. If it had been Diego in his place, he would’ve kept running forever, just so he wouldn’t have to ever face all those people he’d hurt and betrayed and abandoned. But the fact that Caleb never flinched; maybe that was something Diego needed to consider.
“I know you’re sorry,” Diego said. “It’s not like I don’t believe you.”
Caleb shrugged awkwardly. And it was impossible not to see that fourteen-year-old still, in the hunch of his shoulders, the big hands he never quite knew what to do with, the long, gangly legs, and it was impossible not to feel a pulse of what felt like regret.
“Friendship is a tricky thing,” was all Caleb said.
But it wasn’t as tricky as his love affair with Leo had been, and they’d managed to work that out. Mostly because they’d both faced it head-on and stopped hiding. Diego didn’t really want to follow their example, but he knew he should.
“Not so tricky, actually. I’m sorry, I have been avoiding you. Mostly because it felt easier to keep hiding, than actually figuring out how to fix our friendship.” He sighed deeply. “Which is what I should have been doing instead.”
It was difficult to resist the hope in Caleb’s eyes. “You want to fix it?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t know how but we’ll figure it out, right?” Diego grinned. “You and Max figured it out, and if Max can do it . . .”
Caleb laughed, and Diego knew he’d done the right thing, because it felt so great hearing the exact same laugh he’d had at fourteen. “. . . if Max can do it,” Caleb finished, “then anyone can.”
