Secret Hudson (A Finding Nolan Novel Book 2)

by K. S. Thomas

  The moment I stepped on stage I knew he was no longer behind me. I turned around to look for him before I could stop myself and just caught a glimpse of him as he walked off with Ava, probably to get that pass Gary’d been bitching about.

  “Relax, he’ll be back.” Angel again. He was twirling his drumsticks in his fingers, thoroughly amused at my expense.

  “Fuck you.” I picked up my bass and let my fingers strum the strings. Instantly, my whole body relaxed and I realized how tense I’d been. It was crazy really, how stressed and anxious one man could make me while the prospect of standing on a stage in front of thousands of people could actually put me at ease, but it was the truth. I was at home up there. Playing my music. It was the one thing in my life I knew I had mastered. I wasn’t the best by a long shot, but I was well on my way to being among them one day.

  I closed my eyes, listening for Angel’s beat and the chords from Derek’s guitar. I was in my element and we flew through our sound check with just enough time to change and freshen up before the show started.

  Wasn’t until Blaise went to close the door to his dressing room that he realized I’d been walking right behind him the entire time.

  “What the fuck? What are you doing, dude? You just walked right past your dressing room.”

  “I know that, jackass. I can read my own fucking name.” I pushed the door open again. “I’m looking for Ava.”

  I saw her head poke up from behind her laptop. “What’s up? You know, I’m pretty sure Hudson’s in your dressing room waiting for you.” She wiggled her eye brows.

  “Why? Is that where you ordered him to go?” Her eyes went wide and she looked genuinely hurt. Even Blaise came around to face me, a definite disapproval in his expression. He wasn’t one to fight Ava’s battles for her, mostly because she could hold her own, but I knew damn well he’d knock anyone the fuck out if they caused her pain. I was in no way an exception to that policy.

  “Why would I order him to go anywhere?” Ava stood up and walked toward me.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re his fucking boss now and ordering people around comes with the title.” It was a completely unfounded accusation and I had no idea why I was throwing it out there. Maybe I was angling to get punched. Maybe I thought a little physical distraction would aid me nicely in trying to forget the ache twitching at my soul.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize. Well, in that case, maybe I should order you to go fuck yourself.”

  Blaise took a step closer, inching his way between us.

  “I’ll be glad to, right after you tell me what the fuck you were thinking hiring me a boyfriend!” In spite of my anger, my voice remained steady. I’d given up yelling a long time ago. Didn’t make people listen anyway.

  In the midst of my own emotions, I’d somehow missed where Ava’s did a complete one eighty. Before I could stop her, she had both arms wrapped around me, one pressing against my shoulder blade and the other gently running through the hair on the back of my head, bringing me down close to her face and pressing my forehead to hers.

  “You’re an idiot,” she whispered. “I hired him to take pictures. He just happens to like you. I don’t know why you have such a hard time grasping that concept.”

  “Ava.” All of my anger was dwindling down to nothing and being replaced with a new set of emotions, leaving me feeling far more uneasy and vulnerable. Vulnerable. I hated that word. Almost as much as I hated the feeling.

  “Royce.” She just stared back at me, waiting. In the background I could see Blaise watching us, not even a hint of discomfort. That’s how fucking overbearing we all were with one another. He was actually used to this shit. We all were.

  “I just...I’m going to let this one go. I’m glad you hired him. He takes amazing pictures, and you’re right, he’ll do a great job...but please stop pushing us together. It’ll only make things uncomfortable.” I pulled back and kissed her forehead, then slipped out of her embrace completely.

  “I know I’m right. I’m always right.” She placed both hands on her hips, a clear sign that manager Ava was taking over. “Which is why you should listen to me when I tell you that Hudson working for me, has nothing to do with you.”

  I nodded and turned toward the door. “So let’s keep it that way.”

  I was about to walk out when she added, “He would have turned down the job if it did.” “What?” I let the door fall back into place and waited for her to elaborate.

  “I said, he would have turned the job down if it had anything to do with you. Apparently, everyone around here is very confused about my job description.” She made a face. “Anyway, he likes you. Told me himself. Said he wouldn’t take the gig if it would in any way fuck up his chances to get to know you better. Hudson’s not in it to bang Finding Nolan’s bass player. He’s not some stupid groupie. He’s for real. And you like him too, so I really don’t see what the problem is.”

  I dropped my face into both palms, running my hands over my eyes and through my hair. “The problem is, I’m scared, okay? This isn’t like with you two.” I lifted my head again and waved my finger at them both, a certain amount of disgust to go with it. “I’m not walking into something with someone I know inside and out. I’m not guaranteed unconditional love, no matter how much I fuck up. There’s no acceptance of my flaws or understanding of my fears. I’m going in blindly.”

  Ava shrugged. “Yeah. But so is he.”

  Touché.

  I balled my fists and attacked an imaginary punching bag at my waist because all of this fucking anxious energy had to go somewhere. Then, I took a deep breath and reached for the door one more time. “If this shit backfires, it’s on you two.”

  Blaise threw his arms up at me. “What the fuck did I do to get roped into this?”

  “It’s not what you did, it’s who you do on a regular basis.” Naturally, Ava’s only response to any of my pre-exit ramblings was to smile smugly, already assuming that she was right about something even if none of us knew exactly what that would wind up being yet.

  It took three attempts, but I finally managed to open the door to my own dressing room and walk in. Thank God no one else had been in the hall. It was enough having to face myself after that.

  “Hey, Ava said I might find you in here.” I smiled, or at least, I hoped that’s what I was doing.

  “Yeah. I hope that’s okay. Wasn’t sure where else to hang since I don’t really know the others that well yet.” Hudson repeatedly moved his hands out of his pockets and then shoved them back in. Good. So I wasn’t the only one coming completely undone here. And it couldn’t be a star struck thing, unless it was seriously delayed, because he’d been way chill this morning when he first realized who I was. God, that sounded so arrogant. Who was I? Fucking Royce, that was all.

  I nodded, probably more often than necessary, on my way to the rack of clothes along the wall. If I stayed in the same button-up shirt from dinner, I’d be melting underneath the stage lights in no time. “Totally fine. Feel free to hang in my dressing room anytime.” I paused, replaying the statement in my mind. Had it been inappropriate? Suggestive? Weird?

  “Thanks. I’ll definitely be taking you up on that offer. You know, since I guess I’m going to be around for a while.” He laughed softly. “Tell you the truth, I still can’t believe Ava offered me a job. This whole fucking day, man...I couldn’t have dreamt this shit up if I’d tried.”

  I pulled a Tom Waits t-shirt from its hanger. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Then I heard the words as I’d said them. So did Hudson.

  “You do?” He chuckled. “What was so out of the ordinary about your day?”

  Fuck it. I turned around to face him and spit it out before I could swallow the words back down and my balls along with them. “Meeting you.” Then, to keep from having to face him, I skipped unbuttoning the front of my dress shirt and simply peeled the whole thing up over my head, temporarily taking refuge in my cotton enclosure.

  ***

 
Fuck, it suddenly got hot in here. Thank the Rock Gods Royce couldn’t see me, because I was definitely enjoying seeing him. His torso wasn’t just a mass of lean muscles, but it was entirely covered in tattoos. I’d known this already, of course, but damn, in person was so much better than on the cover of Rolling Stone. Mostly because here, there weren’t any big breasted lingerie models posed with their hands all over his tight, toned abs. For a moment, I almost considered reaching out and having a feel for myself, but then his shirt came all the way off and I could see his face again. More importantly, he could see me.

  I cleared my throat, trying to remember the last thing he’d said. “What could possibly make meeting me so significant? I mean, I know I make a fantastic cup of coffee.” I was fishing for a fucking compliment. I didn’t care. I wanted one. Needed it. Something, anything to let me know what I was experiencing was being reciprocated, and more than just a hook up with some random groupie for him. I was no goddamned groupie.

  Royce tossed the shirt onto a chair and reached for the Tom Waits’ one he was putting on in its place. Only he didn’t...put it on. Just held it in his hands while I tried to keep my eyes lifted above his collar bone and away from the muscles that continued to dance under his smooth skin with each move he made.

  “I’m not good at this,” he admitted, but I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. I’d yet to see him do anything he wasn’t stellar at.

  “Not good at what?”

  His gaze met mine, that same hint of insecurity I’d seen before was back. “This. Meeting men. Connecting. Dating.” He grimaced.

  “You’re joking. You’re fucking Royce Lemmi! Sex on a motherfucking stick with musical talent coming out of your ass.” My rational mind was telling me this was his thing, his game, he line, but my gut was telling me something completely different. Behind all of that rugged rocker exterior, was someone broken. And lonely.

  “Yeah, I’m fucking Royce Lemmi alright.” He shook his head. “Some days it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m on the road more than I’m not, and when I actually stay put, I’m holed up in the recording studio. I live in a bubble, surrounded by four of the most fucked up individuals you’ll probably ever meet, all of which I would die for in a heartbeat, because that’s the kind of love we have for one another. Aside from them, the only great passion in my life is my music. And the harsh truth is, anyone else coming into the picture will likely never top either one of those on the list of what’s most important to me. That is, of course, provided anyone can even get through the thousands of horny women throwing themselves at me night after night, because I’m a gay man living in a public closet with mirrored walls I can’t seem to find my fucking way out of.” He stared down at the T-shirt still in his hands. “So, yeah, I’m not good at this...but after today, I kind of wish I was.”

  I had no fucking clue what came over me. Maybe it was the sight of Royce being so vulnerable. Or maybe it was a more primal need to feel his skin against my own, but I took several steps toward him and reached my hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, the soft stubbles of his five o’clock shadow brushing against my palm.

  “I think you’re better at it than you know.”

  Chapter 7

  That night I played with a completely new energy surging through me. For the first time I truly got what had happened to Derek on the Life from the Ashes album and then Blaise on the last two we’d released. It was an inexplicable change, completely out of one’s control, and the frightening and undeniable fact was it could affect me just as negatively if the fates saw fit to shift course at any point.

  As of yet, they were giving no indication of the sort however. On the contrary, after finishing the show, I made a temporary appearance at the after party before slinking off with Hudson.

  He took me back to his mother’s shop where we sat and talked and laughed for hours. This time I made the coffee, just in case he was still under the impression that my interest in him was in any way related to his barista skills.

  “This is pretty good, by the way.” He smiled and took another sip.

  For some stupid reason I felt my face getting red. One minor compliment about my coffee making skills and I was reacting like a twelve year old facing a first kiss during an awkward game of spin the bottle. “Yeah, well, you spend enough mornings with Ava and you learn to brew a pretty solid pot.”

  He nodded knowingly. “I take it she doesn’t have a very sunny disposition in the a.m.?”

  I shook my head and swallowed in a hurry. “Oh, no. She’s her usual perky-but-snotty self. It’s more like she has a spaz disposition. Wait ‘til you see her in action for yourself. Walks around like she’s got fucking blindfolds on, bumping into things and knocking shit over. Mostly we just try to make sure she has a reasonably clear path to the coffee maker. Since walking a straight line is definitely not within her pre-caffeine capabilities.”

  Hudson chuckled softly. He had a mild and gentle way about him. A quiet strength that made me want to be near him almost as badly as that sexy as hell smile of his did. Only for a completely different reason.

  “So, tell me. What do you like to do when you actually have the night off to yourself?” He was tapping the rim of his mug with his finger.

  That was a damn good question. “Honestly? I don’t really do all that much. Playing music has always been my favorite past time, and even now that it’s my job so to speak, I’m still perfectly content sitting at home alone, messing around with my bass or goofing around on whatever other instrument I have lying about that catches my eye.” I shrugged. “Sounds kind of sad and boring when I hear it out loud.”

  “Not at all. Sounds like you’ve learned how to be comfortable with your own company. Enjoy it even. Not everyone knows how to do that, you know? And, I think that’s kind of sad actually.” He took another drink of his coffee, but his eyes remained fixed on mine the entire time. Usually I could only take so much of that. Constant eye contact bugged me from most people. But not him. Not Hudson. Probably because I was so mesmerized by those dark brown almond shaped eyes of his, I had very little desire to look at much else myself.

  “What about you? What do you like to do when you’re not here running the store or taking phenomenal pictures?”

  He laughed. “I’m totally going to sound like I’m copying your answer, but seriously, I don’t do anything all that exciting either. I’m addicted to the view through a lens. I don’t even care what I’m looking at. It could seem like the most mundane thing, but when I’m behind the camera, everything is different. I see things. Notice details, flaws, beauty – amazing, breathtaking beauty – I’d never see otherwise.”

  His entire face lit up as he spoke and I understood exactly what he meant, how it made him feel. Music had always done the exact same thing for me.

  “You know, that’s pretty rare too. Feeling so passionate about something. Being able to pin point exactly what brings you joy in life. I mean, I used to think it wasn’t. I’ve been playing with the guys since I was sixteen, and we all live for it. Music, I mean. We’re obsessed. Perfectionists in a lot of ways, and we work really fucking hard, always pushing ourselves to be better, to grow as artists, but we love it. There isn’t a day that I wake up and think, ‘shit, I really don’t want to play today’.” I stopped for a moment trying to recollect my thoughts. I’d been going somewhere with this. “Fuck. I got derailed there. Sorry. Anyway, my point was, somewhere along the way I grew up and I started meeting other grown-ups. Dating them. And I noticed how many people there were who just sort of wandered through life aimlessly. No passion. No desire. No dream. Just, whatever. Sure, most of them want to do well, make money, but you can’t live your fucking life like that. Well, maybe you can. But why the fuck would you want to? And why the fuck would I want to be with someone so disconnected from their heart? Their spirit?”

  Hudson stared at me intently. He didn’t say anything. Almost instantly, I began replaying my own little rant in my mind, hoping against a
ll hope that I had said such insightful shit, he was still letting it all sink in. Just as I was coming to the end of it, and starting to panic because it was really all just a long winded babble about nothing Hallmark hadn’t already put into a card about fifty-thousand times in fifty-thousand different ways, he set down his mug and stood up from his seat.

  “Could I take your picture?”

  What? “Right now?” As often as I’d had my picture taken in recent years, I still sort of required some time to pep myself up for the whole ordeal. I kinda hated it. Pictures were a lot like mirrors, and I hated the shit out of those.

  “Yeah. Right now.” He gestured with his hand for me to get up. Confused, but annoyingly desperate to make him happy, I did.

  “I don’t really...feel all that comfortable in front of a camera.”

  “Just pretend you’re up on stage again and I’m but one of a million fans standing out in the crowd wishing I could have you all to myself.” Hudson winked and reached his hand around my waist, placing it on my lower back and leading me toward the stairs up to his apartment.

  “You kind of did tonight.” The words had more or less fallen over my foot and out of my mouth.

  Hudson stopped, his hand dropping from where he’d rested it on my back. “What do you mean?”

  I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to will time to turn back or the earth to open up and put me out of my misery, whichever was faster. When neither came about in a reasonable amount of time, I lifted my lids and did my best to explain.

  “You said to pretend you’re one of a million fans standing out in the crowd wishing you could have me all to yourself. And tonight, you sort of did. When I was playing, just...I played differently...because of you, because of how you make me feel.” Fuck. I was taking a bad situation and making it worse with every stupid word I threw out there. It took everything I had to just keep my mouth shut, and let the already tossed chips fall where they may.