by Jet Mykles
That got Lance a grin over the shoulder. “Yeah.”
“You do that?” Not that it was surprising. Lance had made a habit of noting that Gordon was in terrific shape, but he hadn’t given much thought on how that was.
Gordon laughed. “Yes. I do. I take it you don’t?”
“No.” Lance shook his head for emphasis and even backed up a step to make the denial ridiculous.
More laughing. “It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah. It is. Where did you develop that filthy habit?” He said it with a grin, but he really was curious.
“I like to be active.” Gordon turned off the water and dried his hands. “Outside of a gym, there’s not much chance of that in my line of work.” Still grinning, he patted Lance’s chest as he passed by. “Let me dry my hair, and we can go.”
Lance watched him retreat, wondering at the casually intimate gesture. He decided to mark it “friendly” instead. Because that’s what they’d become. Good friends. Noble touched Lance all the time. One of these days, Lance’s blood would cease to simmer when Gordon did it.
On a whim, he opened Gordon’s refrigerator. Yes, there was beer and containers of leftovers. But there was also milk, eggs, and three different kinds of juice, and the vegetable drawer was full. Shelby’s people obviously weren’t stocking Gordon’s kitchen. They’d learned not to leave too many plants for Lance and Noble, because most of them would wither and die.
“So do you do the machines and the whole nine yards?” Lance asked Gordon when he reappeared.
Clearly amused, Gordon sat on the couch to lace up his boots. “Yes. Mostly just some weights and the elliptical.” He glanced up at Lance.
“I know what that is.”
Which made Gordon laugh again.
Loving the sound, Lance had to smile. “I just don’t know why any sane person would use one of the damn things.”
“To feel good. To stay healthy.”
“Right. That.”
“I take it you’re not a fan of the gym.” Gordon stood and went to grab his coat. It gave Lance a nice, if brief, view of his ass in gray wool slacks.
“No way.”
“Then how do you stay fit?” Lance didn’t miss the quick once-over Gordon gave him.
Warmed, Lance didn’t pay much attention to his answer. “I don’t. Alcohol, gigs, and sex seem to do the trick.”
And there went some of the merriment from Gordon’s eyes. Only some. “Good thing you get plenty of all three.”
“Yeah.” Lance followed Gordon out the door, mentally kicking himself for his words. That’s why he didn’t tend to talk much. He often said the wrong thing. “Good thing.”
“So.” They reached the empty hall at the bottom of the stairs. To the left was the door that led outside the club, to their right the one that led toward the club. “Where should we go?”
Lance caught up with Gordon to walk beside him as they made their way to the outside door. “There’s a diner about five blocks away with killer waffles.”
“Works for me.”
Outside it was a brisk fifty degrees. The sky that could be seen between the buildings was flat gray, with some angry dark patches. The snow was gone, but the air was moist. It was going to rain soon. Lance pulled a knit cap out of his pocket to shove over his head and keep his ears warm. Gordon seemed to enjoy the cold, though, raising his face to the sky for a brief moment when they reached the sidewalk.
“So you’re a fitness junkie, and you eat waffles?” Lance asked, starting down the street. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“I’m not a junkie. I just like to be active.”
“Now I know why you’re up so early in the morning.”
“Nine isn’t early for most people.”
“Most people don’t stay up all night on a regular basis.”
“True.”
They kept chatting on the way to the diner. A tiny part of Lance’s brain worked over what was happening between them. Obviously they’d become friends. In the last few weeks, they’d gone to movies, dinner, and even a really weird play off-Broadway. Although flirting had occurred, it seemed like both of them were very careful to keep things on a friendly basis. And that’s all they were. Friends. Except that Lance continued to want more than that. How could he not? Now he knew the reason why Gordon’s body was so taut and muscular, but that couldn’t make him want it more. Because he already wanted it too much. Time hadn’t dampened the desire to lick up the long column of Gordon’s neck or find out what those beautiful lips tasted like. Getting to know the man didn’t take away the desire to have him on all fours with his ass squeezing the life out of Lance’s cock. But Lance kept his desires to himself for the good of the band.
* * * *
“Has Shelby ever asked you to help him with potentials before?” Gordon asked, doctoring his coffee with a couple of creamers.
The discussion was guitarists, since Shelby had instructed Gordon to find one.
“We worked together to find a drummer.”
They were waiting for their waffles, sitting on uncomfortable vinyl padding on the metal benches of a booth in the shoddy-looking diner. Gordon hadn’t been sure about the place at first, but when they walked in and the scent of buttered batter and sizzling sausages had hit, he’d been sold.
“But that was more ’cause drums aren’t his thing. He was using a rhythm machine before Noble.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Gordon picked up a spoon to start stirring. “I’m glad you talked him into a drummer.”
Lance sipped his own black coffee. “Wasn’t so much me as the sound he wanted to get. He wasn’t going to get it with a machine.”
“Lucky you found Noble.”
“Damn straight.”
Instead of drinking, Gordon stacked the plastic creamer cups together, watching his hands as they did it. “You and Noble are very close.”
“Yes.”
“Good friends?”
“The best.” Lance guessed what was coming next. Everyone asked.
Gordon set the creamer cups aside. “Lovers?”
“Only a few times. Years ago.” He felt the need to make that point clear.
His wording made Gordon grin. Also got him to look up. “Why only a few?”
“He’s too much for me.”
Gordon chuckled. “All over the place?”
“All over. In bed and with other people.”
“Ah. Yeah, that could get annoying.”
Lance shrugged and dropped his gaze, feeling a little guilty for talking about Noble. Not that Noble would care. It also wasn’t the whole reason, but he used that one when talking to others. “He’s good. We had fun. But we make better friends. Besides”—he made sure to meet Gordon’s gaze—“we work together.”
Gordon’s small smile said that Lance’s barb had hit home, but it didn’t look like it stung. He finally tasted his coffee. “Was he your first?”
“Guy?” And why did that simple question make Lance feel almost virginal? “Yeah. I had sex with girls before.”
“Now only men?”
“Pretty much.”
Gordon nodded. “Good for you for staying friends. I don’t talk to most of my ex-lovers, much less live and work with them.”
“Not much for second chances?”
Gordon’s casual gaze sharpened, and Lance was sure it was his imagination that the light dimmed just a little. “No. I don’t do second chances.”
It was Lance’s turn to nod. “Good to know.”
There was a slight lull as they both sipped their coffee.
“So.” Gordon’s brisk tone suggested a change of subject. “Why do you stay? With Shelby?”
“Didn’t we have this discussion?”
“I know you say it’s for the paycheck, but that can’t be it. You’re too good.”
Lance let himself feel the compliment a moment. “It’s a good paycheck.”
“Yes, I know, and you get to do
what you love for it. But you have to have gotten offers from other bands. You could easily move on.”
Lance shrugged. “I could. Then the other band could tank, and I’d be back to living on the street.”
“Is that where you were before Shelby? Living on the street?”
“Not exactly, but not far from it.” Sip. “I’ve done the whole living-out-of-pocket scene. It’s not all that appealing when you’re pushing thirty.”
Gordon’s fingers toyed around the rim of his cup. “That’s not so old.”
“Not so young, either.”
Gordon studied him. He did that a lot, to a lot of people. He watched. Not everyone noticed, but he’d given up being sly about it with Lance. Slowly Gordon shook his head. “There’s got to be more to it. I don’t see you putting up with Shelby’s crap that long just to be comfortable. You have to have saved money by now. You could branch out on your own.”
Lance sighed, toying with a sugar packet. “I haven’t saved anything.”
“What? With what you make?”
“I send everything to support my mom.”
A dead silence dropped between them.
“Oh. Is she…?”
“She’s in a nursing home. Pretty advanced Alzheimer’s. Plus she’s just old. She had a hard life.”
“Fuck.” Gordon put down his coffee and reached over to lay a hand on Lance’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It is what it is.”
Gordon drew his hand back. “So you’re paying to support her?”
“Yep. I pay all the bills that insurance doesn’t cover. My sister used to pitch in, but she’s got her own family, and it was hard enough on her when Mom was first sick and I wasn’t around. When the money started coming in from Shelby, I gave most of it to her.” Lance stared at the pulp poster hanging on the wall beside them. “She deserves the break.”
“Okay.” Gordon’s coffee cup clinked softly on its saucer. “This makes sense. Where do they live?”
“Detroit.” Born and bred, and neither of them would ever think of leaving. Unlike him. He had to leave that place.
“What about your father?”
Lance shrugged. “Never knew him.”
Gordon toyed with his cup, spinning it slowly. “I’m really sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Like I said, it is what it is.”
They were quiet a moment while Gordon digested what had been said. Then he nodded. “So, then, you need the money. And as long as you keep Shelby happy, the money is steady.” It sounded more like he was defining Lance’s life for himself than getting any confirmation.
But Lance gave it anyway. “Yep.”
Another pause as the waitress dropped off their breakfast. “But if you found something equally as profitable, would you leave?”
Lance had to laugh as he slathered butter across his waffle. “What is this? You want me to leave Shelby?”
Gordon was lighter on the butter, but he made generous use of the blueberry syrup. “No. I just…” He shrugged. “I’ve seen what Shelby puts you guys through, and I know what’s out there. Neither of you strikes me as the type to put up with it, even for the money. I guess I’m just trying to understand.”
“Shelby’s earned some loyalty. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s also been very good to both of us. How many guys would pay all our expenses and give us a paycheck? Just to play his music.”
“I see that.” Gordon chewed thoughtfully. “Who would have thought that his bass-ackward way of doing things could actually work?”
They both laughed, then proceeded with yet another perfectly normal, perfectly friendly meal together.
Chapter Nine
Present, November
Lance didn’t realize there was someone on his couch until he’d started the coffee and was pulling out the waffle iron. Danny pulled himself upright, blue eyes bleary and strawberry-blond hair an oily mess around his face. A clubbing shirt was draped over the back of the couch, and the couch’s deep blue throw blanket slipped from his bare chest.
“Hey, you.” Lance waved over the short counter that separated living room from kitchen. The apartment he and Noble had moved into was light and airy, especially in the morning. It had almost turned him into a morning person. Almost. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry I woke you.”
Yawning, Danny rubbed at his eyes. “’Sokay.” He scooted to the edge of the couch and cracked another yawn. “Hope you don’t mind I crashed here.”
“Nope. You hungry?”
Danny thought about it, trying to blink himself awake. “Maybe after coffee?”
“It’s on its way.”
Heaving a big sigh, Danny got to his feet and stretched. Lance was a human male who happened to enjoy the sight of a nice physique, so he admired his friend. Danny wasn’t what you’d call ripped, but he had a discernible six-pack and a nice surfer-boy tan, although the latter was fading, thanks to being inside most of the time during the Chicago autumn. Unbuttoned jeans rode low enough on his hips to show off the smooth, gorgeous grooves on each side of his groin and the tuft of a dark brown happy trail leading into his briefs. In Lance’s humble opinion, Danny was one hell of a step up from the lead singer of Lance’s last band. He’d attract plenty of fans to the Indigo Knights through his looks alone. Bonus that he could sing.
Lance busied himself with getting the makings for waffles before Danny could catch him watching. “Good night?”
Still shirtless, Danny leaned on the wall at the space where living room changed to kitchen, his bare toes curling on the cool tiles. Jesus, even his feet were pretty. “Yeah.” He scratched his head. “What I can remember of it.”
Lance laughed. “That’s what you get for going out with Noble.” Setting milk down on the counter, he glanced toward Noble’s room. “Is he alone?” His door was open. Beyond, Lance could see the mound of pillows and blankets that would be covering his friend on the bed. Usually the door was closed, or if it was open, there was at least one guy in bed with him. “What gives?”
Danny flushed a little, eyes downcast. “We went to a sex club.”
“Ah. That’s nothing new for him.”
“Yeah. Well, it was new for me. I thought I’d seen it all but…” He shook his head.
Lance chuckled, measuring dry batter into a bowl. “Have fun?”
“Well. Yeah.” Danny seemed hesitant. “You ever been to one?”
“Yeah.” Lance reached into a cabinet to bring out a mug for Danny. “Years ago.” He pointed toward the coffee, which was almost ready.
Danny took the mug. “Did you like it?”
Lance shrugged, pouring milk into a measuring cup. “It was useful. Was never my idea to go, though.”
“Yeah.” Danny was thoughtful as he filled his mug. “Not so sure I want to do it a lot. I’m all for one-night stands, but…” He made a face before taking a sip of straight black coffee. “Oh wow, this is good.”
“Gourmet.”
“Fancy.”
“Yep.”
They were quiet as Lance mixed the batter. It was a box mix, but it was one that he and Noble had grown fond of.
“Is this your normal morning?” Danny asked, leaning on the counter out of the way while he watched Lance.
“Pretty much.”
“Don’t you go out at all?”
“Not often.”
Danny stopped there. Lance was sure he wanted to ask more but wasn’t comfortable yet. Which was fine. Lance didn’t much want to go into it.
Instead he changed the topic. “Y’know, you could’ve slept in there with him. He’s got a huge bed.” That bed had been Noble’s one big splurge when they’d moved in. Lance was shocked he hadn’t gotten one of the custom-made circular ones with drapes and pillows. But the one he’d gotten was plenty big.
“What? No. We’re not…”
“I know you’re not.” If they had, Noble would have told Lance about it. “But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t sleep in there. The
couch isn’t that comfortable.” He grinned at Danny. “I know he invited you.”
Danny’s eyes went wide. “How do you know?”
“I know Noble.”
“Yeah, well.” Danny hid behind a sip of coffee. “We agreed we shouldn’t make our relationship sexual.” Gee, that sounded familiar. A good idea too. Lance knew that one firsthand. “Besides, we were both exhausted last night.”
“You still could’ve slept with me,” Noble said, emerging from his bedroom dressed in snug black boxer-briefs and nothing else. His green hair glowed in the soft morning light, and the horny toad etched on his chest looked entirely too cheerful. He scratched his head. “There I was, all alone in that big bed.”
Lance snorted.
Danny rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself.”
Noble slung an arm across Danny’s shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Never.” He let go in favor of retrieving a mug for his morning sustenance. “You reek.”
First Danny was shocked, but he recovered quickly. “Fuck you.”
“No, no.” Noble yawned as he pulled out the coffee carafe. “We decided not to do that.”
Danny sighed, then set down his mug. “Fine. Can I use your shower?”
Since Noble was busy pouring sugar into his mug, Lance answered. “You can use mine. It’s cleaner than Noble’s.”
Noble rolled his eyes. “You need clothes?”
Danny glanced down at himself. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“Help yourself to mine. Should all fit.”
“’Kay. Thanks.”
Noble sneaked a peek at Danny’s ass as the other man disappeared into Noble’s room. “He’s a fucking magnet,” he muttered to Lance so as not to be overheard. “Men fall at his feet. It’s awesome.”
Lance dumped the first waffle on a plate and poured another. “I’m surprised you haven’t.”
“No, I’m not fucking this up. I learned that from you.”
Lance didn’t take the bait, used to Noble’s digs. He got out a mug for himself. “I’m glad you found a friend.” Not that he’d worried. Noble could make friends anywhere.
“I wish you would.”
“I count Rabin and Danny as my friends.”
“You know what I mean.”