Starting From Scratch (Starting From Series Book 2)

by Lane Hayes

  I kept my eye roll in check like a pro and clung to the shadows as Justin sang the last few lines of “This is Love.” An eerie quiet settled over the crowd as his voice quivered with emotion.

  “…I can’t imagine a night without you now

  And for the first time I wondered, is this love?”

  I noted a few people wiping their eyes in the audience and smiled when someone called out “I love you, Justin,” but my gaze wandered to Ky. His mouth twisted visibly under the brim of his hat like he was torn between arousal and amusement. He looked at me that way a lot. I’d always thought he was laughing at me, but maybe there was something else at play. I mean…he kissed me and told me to kiss him to make it even. Straight guys didn’t do things like that. Neither did bi or gay men who’d made a curious mistake they didn’t want to repeat. He wasn’t acting normal, I mused as he glanced up and smiled. At me. Just me.

  And just like that, everyone else disappeared.

  It might have been ten seconds or less, but it felt like a lifetime. Music and lyrics ebbed and flowed with a series of beginnings and soft endings where nothing was final and anything was possible.

  But the song ended, the crowd went wild, and the moment was gone.

  Next thing I knew, the lights were on and I had a drink in my hand. And then another…and another. I slipped into my professional “manager of an up-and-coming rock band” role, schmoozing with the record execs in attendance. I reintroduced the guys to Vin and the bigwigs at Sky before getting stuck in a boring conversation with a woman who claimed to be tight friends with some famous producer. I nodded and smiled and kept my eyes glued on Ky. And Lauren.

  I didn’t even mind when Vin butted in on my conversation to give me a rundown of a few new acts he was interested in signing. He leaned in too close and was a little too touchy-feely, but his overly animated conversation kept me from watching Lauren cling to Ky’s biceps while she dipped her fingers into his back pocket. I honestly didn’t know what my problem was. It had to be the gin…or the beer. I lost track of the number of drinks I sipped and set down, only to be handed another one. I was usually better at walking away from a drink or seven.

  I threw in the towel sometime around two a.m. I was tired, tipsy on my way to drunk, and dangerously close to jealous. And I didn’t like the way the combination made me feel. I said my good-byes and waved away offers for a ride, assuring everyone I’d call for one instead. Then I headed for the back room behind the stage to grab my jacket and stopped short.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Ky snapped his guitar case shut and turned to me with a devilish smile. “Getting my bass and heading home.”

  “Where’s Lauren?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “She’s not with you?”

  Ky put his hand over his eyes like a sailor lost at sea and scanned the obviously empty area. “Nope.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Where’s Vin?”

  “Home, I hope,” I groused.

  “Hmph. Need a ride?”

  “Um…” I frowned as I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’m gonna call for one now. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Don’t be a shoobie. Get your shit together.”

  “What’s a shoobie?”

  “A dork, a numbskull, a real dweeb. Like someone who wears black socks to the beach.”

  “I don’t do that,” I huffed.

  “Yeah, that’s what all the shoobies say,” he teased. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Char. Chop-chop. Let’s get outta here.”

  I rolled my eyes when he clapped. “I’m not driving anywhere with you. You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not driving. I said we should share a ride. And you’re the one who’s had too much tonight. I’ve been watching you.”

  “Me?” I sputtered.

  “Yeah, you. And Vin.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  “Of course I was. Are you sharing a ride with me or not?”

  “That’s not what you said, and you don’t live anywhere near me anyway,” I argued.

  “Oh. True. Well, come wait outside with me. Everybody’s gone and I’m scared of the dark.” Ky widened his eyes comically as he bent to pick up his guitar case and sling his jacket over his shoulder.

  I gave a half laugh, then nodded before following him through the side door exit. The eerie quiet was vaguely unsettling. I heard the slow hum of traffic, but not much else. The diehard patrons had been escorted through the main entrance while the club’s employees and the rest of the band were probably leaving through the back. We’d have to walk along the side of the darkened building to get to the street.

  “Shoot. I think we were supposed to use a different exit.” I glanced both ways along the deserted narrow pathway before moving back to the door, which of course, was locked. “Fuck. Why did I follow you?”

  “No idea. Bad decision on your part. I always choose the hardest way to get where I’m going,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  I gestured toward the general direction of the street. “We should go that way to wait for our rides.”

  Ky pulled my wrist. “Yeah, but wait a sec.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to run into Lauren,” he replied sheepishly.

  “Oh.” I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill. “I bumped into her during your show. She said you’re ‘on again, off again,’ but I guess she’s hoping for ‘on’?”

  “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know how to be any clearer. I’m not interested. She’s nice, but there’s no…zing, no spark, no—hey, are you cold?” Ky shrugged his jacket off his right shoulder and pushed it at me. “Wear this. And don’t go looking at the label, Valentino. It’s not designer, but it’ll keep you warm while you keep me company.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not that big of a snob, you know,” I said when he slipped the coat over my shoulders and fussed with the collar. “How long do we have to wait?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  I returned his smile and laughed for no particular reason. This felt nice. The weird flippy, jealous feeling in my stomach had been replaced by a pleasant alcohol-induced buzz that made the whole world seem fabulous. It wouldn’t last, but I knew from experience that it was best to enjoy the hell out of the moment and not worry about the hangover to come.

  “So…what’d you tell Lauren?”

  “Nothing much. It was kinda loud in there. Not really the place to rehash a conversation we had weeks ago.”

  “Hmm. I get it. You’re a heartbreaker,” I teased.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “All the girls and boys were screaming your name in the audience tonight. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. It must be the hat.” I tipped the brim playfully and snickered. “Are you blushing? That’s so cute.”

  “Fuck off,” he chuckled without heat. “I’m not fuckin’ blushing, and I’m definitely not the main attraction on that stage. The bassist is usually the last guy anyone notices.”

  “Unless he’s wearing a slick hat,” I singsonged. “Let me try it on.”

  Ky stepped closer and set the fedora on my head. “It’s a little big, but you look hot.”

  “I’m wearing your hat and your jacket. Do I look like you?” I twirled in a circle and pretended to play the bass, adding sound effects to make him laugh.

  He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Yup. You should take my place. And when Lauren comes around, you can remind her that we called it quits. For good. She’d listen to you.”

  “Yeah, I doubt I’d fool her. She’d know I wouldn’t touch her in the first place. Lady parts make me squeamish.” I shuddered dramatically.

  Ky crossed his arms and leaned against the stucco wall. The lone lamplight affixed to the left of the door cast an ethereal glow over his sharp features, giving him a wolfish look that probably should have made me nervous. Thanks to the excess alcohol I’d consumed, I felt more intrigued than anything when he crooked his finger at me, silently
commanding me to come closer. I obeyed without thinking.

  “So you’ve never been with a lady?” he asked, drawing out that last word as he tipped the hat back and set his thumb under my chin.

  “No. I’ve never been the slightest bit curious. Have you?”

  “Hell, yeah. I’ve been very curious with women,” he assured me emphatically.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I huffed. “And you know it. This is why we aren’t friends. You make everything into a joke.”

  Ky held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. My bad. I just don’t think my sexuality is a big deal. I think sex is amazing, and if you feel like doing it…do it. Who cares who your partner is?”

  “I agree. But me personally? I know I’m gay. It always confused me when my dad and Gray had relationships with both guys and girls when I was younger. I didn’t get it at all. One of my biggest flaws is that I’m a black-and-white thinker. Something is or it isn’t. Can’t have it both ways. I know that’s not true, but when I was a kid, I had a hard time with the idea that my dad could ever be with anyone besides Gray.”

  “Dude. How long have they been broken up?”

  “Well, they were together for eight years, then broke up. Then they got together again when I was twenty, but that was over in two months. So…the real answer is probably fifteen years.”

  “Are you still bummed about it?” he asked, stroking my chin idly.

  I wasn’t sure why I didn’t swat his hand away. I leaned into his touch instead and inched closer. “Do you want my honest answer, or do you want the mature adult one?”

  Ky grinned. “Honest.”

  “I’m bummed. I hate it.” I stepped away with a sigh before settling against the wall beside him. “I wouldn’t change it now. They don’t belong together anymore. I’m glad they’re the best of friends and that we’ve created a new kind of family. It’s not the three of us, the way it was when I was small. Now we have Oliver…and Justin. And maybe someday my dad will meet someone, and we’ll make room again. It’s good, but it’s not the way I thought it would be.”

  “What’d you want? A fairy tale?”

  “Yeah. With two princes,” I replied. “Sadly, life is not a fairy tale. It’s a messed-up collision of personalities, timing, and circumstance. You never know what you’ll have to combat next, so you’d better be ready for anything.”

  “I one hundred percent agree. But I kinda figured you’d have a more optimistic outlook on life.”

  “Oh, I do. I’m an eternal optimist! But I’m not an idiot. I don’t believe in miracles or fairy tales anymore. That doesn’t mean I don’t want one to happen. I’d love nothing more than to have my own fairy tale someday. But I’m not willing to spend a buck on that lottery ticket,” I snarked. “What about you? Are your parents divorced?”

  Ky nodded. “Yeah, but that was no fuckin’ fairy tale. I don’t want to talk about it. You’re more interesting anyway. You do know that most kids assume everyone in the world has a dad and a mom. Why did you want to be different?”

  “I didn’t want to be different. It’s just what I knew. But I could say that about almost everything about me. I’m different. I might be vertically challenged, but I stand out like a pregnant pole vaulter or the bald man who gets cast in Hair. It’s not funny, it’s true,” I insisted, grinning when he slapped his knee and guffawed.

  “You’re a weirdo,” he said affectionately. “Are you saying you never wanted to do what all the other kids in school were doing? Join the football team, ask the prettiest girl out?”

  “Sure. It just never went according to plan. I was too short and skinny to play football, but I tried out to do the kick in junior high school ’cause I had a crazy crush on Andy Foster. He was the quarter person.”

  “Huh? You mean you were the kicker and he was the quarterback?”

  I waved dismissively. “Maybe. But I didn’t get the part. Turns out the kicker guy has to practically do the fucking splits to get the ball to the other side of the park. Do you have any idea how far that is?”

  “Yeah, it’s a hundred yards,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And it’s called a field, not a park.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous. I told them so too. And I’m pretty sure Andy suggested I try out for the cheer squad instead. So I did. I had a big problem with the costumes and the cheers, though. And I was also extremely jealous of Chelsea Mulder. She was tall and pretty with long blonde hair. All the boys liked her, including Andy. I thought if I got her to notice me, maybe he’d notice me too. But I didn’t know how to flirt with a girl. To this day, I can’t figure it out. I complimented her braids and told her they’d be prettier if she tightened them. Next thing you know, I’m doing Chelsea’s hair at recess and giving her fashion tips. I couldn’t seduce my way out of a wet paper bag. Not a woman anyway. Men are a whole other story,” I said, waggling my eyebrows lasciviously.

  Ky snickered. “How so?”

  “I just know what to do and what to say.”

  “Oh, yeah? Give me an example. Seduce me.”

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously and held his gaze, but when he didn’t blink or back down, I decided to play along. I straightened from the wall and stood in front of him.

  “Okay. Pretend we don’t know each other. Ready?” I waited for him to nod; then I bit my bottom lip and stepped closer. “What’s your name?”

  “Ky.”

  “Ky,” I repeated slowly, somehow expanding the two letters into a sentence. “What do you do for fun?”

  “I play bass in a band and um…I skateboard and hang out with friends.”

  “Why the bass?”

  “Uh…well, I thought it was an easy instrument to fake play when I wanted to join a band in high school. Turned out I was wrong. You can’t fake the bass. It’s arguably the most important instrument and—what are you doing?”

  I stepped between his open legs and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “Nothing. I’m listening to your story. Go on. I’m fascinated,” I purred.

  Ky caught my wrist and furrowed his brow. “So you just pretend to be interested and then…what?”

  I smiled. “I move in for the kill. See, guys love to talk about themselves. And they love unexpected questions.”

  “ ‘What’s your name’ and ‘what do you for fun’ are the precursor to ‘what’s your sign,’ ” he commented idly.

  “Yes, but you have to start with the lame ones before you get to the good stuff.”

  Ky brought my hand to my side, then pushed away from the wall and linked his fingers in mine. “What’s the good stuff?”

  “Uh, well…you smell good. What kind of cologne are you wearing?”

  “Is that a real question or a pickup line?” he asked, rubbing his scruffy jaw along mine.

  I shivered at the contact and nodded before hooking my thumb in one of his belt loops. “Both.”

  “Hmm. I can’t remember if I’m wearing cologne, and that’s a bad line anyway.”

  “That’s the idea. It’s okay to be slightly cheesy as long as you don’t overdo it. But…how can you not know if you put cologne on?” I asked incredulously. “That’s like forgetting to brush your teeth.”

  Ky chuckled as he tipped my chin. “I don’t think so. Keep talking. What comes next?”

  “Um…you get closer and compliment him. The color of his eyes, his shirt, his shoes, whatever seems to fit the moment,” I replied in a breathy voice. “Sometimes you need to back off. So he doesn’t get nervous. But then you start over…with a slight touch, eye contact, and—”

  “Let me try.” Ky set his hand on my hip and stared at my mouth before meeting my gaze. “What’s your sign?”

  When I busted up laughing, he stepped back and joined in for a second, then set his hands on the wall above my head and brushed his nose against mine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we should do something crazy.”

  “Like what?” I whispered.
r />   Ky went still for a moment as if waiting for permission before gently pressing his lips to mine.

  It happened so fast and felt so natural that I didn’t hesitate to throw everything I had into the connection. I wound my arms around his waist and tilted my head, gliding my tongue alongside his. Ky lowered one hand, raking his fingers down my chest before tugging my shirt from my khakis and slipping his hand underneath, flattening it on my bare stomach. I moaned when he tweaked my nipple and bit my chin before licking a trail along my jaw. And when he recaptured my mouth, I almost dropped to my knees right then and there. The slightest hint of friction even through a few layers of clothes was a terrible tease. But damn, I needed this. And I didn’t want to think about consequences if I asked for just a little more.

  I broke the kiss and set my hand over his belt buckle. “I want to do something really crazy.”

  “Do it.” His nostrils flared and his Adam’s apple moved lustily, like he was barely holding on.

  “Okay, but…”

  Ky shook his head and let out a strangled half laugh. “Don’t tease, Char. Do what feels right. If you want to touch me”—he grabbed my hand and placed it over his obvious erection—“do it.”

  I closed my eyes as I curled my fingers around his jean-clad shaft. I couldn’t hear the sound of my voice over my heartbeat, but I figured one of us should keep things real. “Yeah, I’m drunk and you’re tipsy, Ky. I don’t want to be your morning regret or—”

  “I’m not waking up till afternoon,” he purred, nipping my earlobe as he tilted his hips seductively.

  “You know what I mean, smartass.” I squeezed Ky’s hard-on and stroked him through his jeans. “Someone has to be responsible.”

  He pulled back slightly and fixed me with an intense stare. “Give us fifteen minutes to do whatever we want. We can erase it afterward and say it never happened, but…fuck, I just—I want you to…”

  I stroked his length and hummed. “Suck your cock?”

  He licked his lips. “You don’t have to do that. Just…touch me.”

  I met his gaze and nodded. Then I slipped his belt through a loop on his jeans and fumbled with the buckle and the button before slowly easing the zipper down and—