by Jet Mykles
Gordon quirked one dark brow and matched the grin. “Fair?”
Feeling the flush that colored his cheeks, Lance averted his eyes on a shrug. “Well, yeah.”
Gordon nudged, and Lance rolled obediently onto his back, welcoming Gordon’s weight and lips immediately. The kissing quickly progressed from lazy to hungry, building toward urgent as Gordon’s hands slipped down Lance’s chest. “You ready to keep doing it tonight?”
Back to grinning, Lance put a hand on top of Gordon’s head and pushed. “I think I can manage.”
* * * *
“Hey.”
Lance grunted and burrowed farther into the pillows beneath his face.
“It’s almost noon, and I’m hungry. You interested in food?”
Lance’s stomach didn’t growl at the suggestion, but it was a near thing. “Yeah.”
“How about I order a coupla burgers from room service?”
“Yeah.”
The bed jounced as Gordon moved to get off it. “Anything special for yours?”
Lance made the effort to raise his head. “Rare.” He dropped his face into his blissfully soft pillow again. He almost managed to go back to sleep, but the mention of food had ruined the possibility. A few minutes later, he sighed and pushed himself to his knees.
A chuckle sounded behind him. “You’re one of the worst morning people I’ve ever met.”
Without looking, Lance aimed a middle-finger gesture at Gordon.
Which just made him laugh. “By the way, Noble left a text on your phone. He’s got a ride home. It’s just you and me on the drive back.”
Lance nodded as he crawled to the edge of the bed. “Awesome.” He noted that he was just tired and not hungover. Novel. He cracked his eyes open to find the most pleasant sight of Gordon in gray-and-black plaid sleep pants and nothing else. His hair was shiny and sleek, indicating a recent shower, and all that skin was healthy and golden over firm muscles. Lance held out his arms. “C’mere.”
Intrigued, Gordon approached, then chuckled as Lance gathered him close and laid his cheek on Gordon’s belly. Fingers combed through Lance’s loose hair, gently working through mild tangles. “Just so you know, I’m too hungry to fuck yet.”
“’Sokay.” And it was. He just wanted to hold Gordon and soak in the warmth. He could get used to this morning feeling. They didn’t often have a morning after. Gordon, being an early riser, was almost always gone or at least up and moving around by the time Lance was awake.
“Aren’t you a cuddly bear this a.m.? I should fuck you more often.”
A little embarrassed, Lance snorted and rolled his head so his nose pressed into Gordon’s navel. He smelled of soap and gorgeous, sexy male. Gordon’s words reminded him of the surprisingly pleasant ache in his ass.
“Hey.”
“Hmph?”
“You awake?”
“Getting there.”
Hands tipped Lance’s head, braced to either side of his jaw to tilt his eyes up to meet Gordon’s. The hazel of Gordon’s eyes gleamed green this morning. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”
Lance kept his eyes open and steady as he tried to clear the cobwebs from his thoughts enough to remember what that might have been.
Gordon took pity on him. “About us and…continuing.”
When had he said that? Oh yeah. He had, sort of.
A thumb traced Lance’s bottom lip, the look on Gordon’s face lazy. Contemplative. “I love fucking you.”
The mention of the L-word sent off a spark under Lance’s heart, even if the context was removed from dangerous territory. He ran his hands over Gordon’s bare back. “Me too.”
Gordon’s smile warmed Lance’s blood. “I’m thinking we’re pretty good together.”
“Yeah.”
“And we’ve been doing this for a while.”
Lance couldn’t help stilling. This was that talk?
Gordon saw his reaction but only narrowed his eyes a little. “I haven’t been with anyone else in months. Neither have you.”
“No.”
“I’m thinking this thing between us needs to be exclusive.” He tapped a finger on Lance’s bottom lip. “Just you and me.”
Lance’s blood ran cold. Where had this come from? Just because he let Gordon inside his body, he thought that was it for them? That they should be a couple? He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to make promises he didn’t know he could keep.
He took too long to answer. Gordon’s smile chilled. “What?”
Lance stared into Gordon’s eyes. Swallowed as he tried to summon words that wouldn’t piss Gordon off. “I’ve never dated anyone like that. I’m not good at it.”
“How do you know if you never have?”
With no answer, Lance let his gaze drop. Why did Gordon have to knock that particular hornet’s nest? Things had been going so well.
“Hey. I have dated before. It can be really good.” Gordon leaned down to brush lips with Lance. “All I’m asking is for more of what we’ve been doing.”
Lance licked his lips, his tongue touching Gordon’s too. What they had was good. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone else. And he got the feeling this was important to Gordon. Really important. “Okay.”
Gordon pulled back enough to see Lance’s eyes. “Okay?”
Lance slipped his hands down to cup either side of Gordon’s tight ass, gripping to hide the fact that he was shaking a little. “Right. I say no, I lose you. Not happening.” He had to make himself believe that.
Gordon blinked, and his smile took on an endearing, childlike happiness. “Good.” He bent over so they could kiss. Then, groaning, he lowered so his knees were on the mattress to either side of Lance. Lance balanced him on his lap and drank in all he could of this gorgeous man. Gordon wanted him exclusively? He had him.
Chapter Seventeen
Present, May, on tour
Yes! Lance’s gamble paid off. He walked up behind the chair in the little motel diner. “Okay if I join you?”
Startled, Gordon glanced up from reading the local newspaper. His mouth dropped open. “What the hell are you doing up?”
Shrugging, Lance pulled out the chair and sat. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He accepted the waitress’s offer of coffee. She confirmed that Gordon was waiting for his breakfast, then took Lance’s order. Gordon watched this with slightly narrowed eyes.
“You do realize it’s eight o’clock in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
“What time did you get to bed?”
“Early.” Lance exaggerated a yawn over the rim of his coffee cup. “One or two.”
“You should be getting some sleep. Who knows when we’ll get beds again?”
Too true. They’d been sleeping on the bus for most of the tour. But occasionally they could find a motel to put them up and stay within Gordon’s tight budget.
“I’ll sleep on the bus.” It was a travel day anyway. “You work out this morning?”
“I went for a jog.” Gordon must have showered, because he now wore slacks and a nicely snug polo.
Lance looked out the window. “Looks like it’ll be hot again.” He didn’t know this area of the South well enough to know if this was an unseasonably warm spring or if summer came early in these parts. It didn’t matter anyway since he was just searching for something innocuous to say.
“Most likely.”
The waitress arrived with Gordon’s food. Waffles. Lance smiled, having correctly guessed what Gordon had ordered.
“Go ahead,” he prompted when it looked like Gordon was going to wait for Lance’s food to arrive. He watched as the stream of syrup was applied, and chuckled.
“What?”
“You always make a mess.”
Gordon paused, and an expression Lance couldn’t fathom flashed over his face before he could prevent it. “I guess I do.”
“It’s cute.”
“Lance.” The warning was soft, but it was there.
“Sorry. I’ll stop.” Lance sipped, then looked back out at the street. The scene wasn’t exactly picturesque, as they were in the middle of a city, but there were a few trees that looked nice. “So. How’re we doing?”
“The Knights?”
“Yeah.”
“Very well, actually.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not like we’re making a profit.” Gordon picked up his fork and dug into his soggy mess. “But we’re not too far over budget.”
“That’s good.”
“That’s great.”
“Is word spreading?”
“It is. I’ve gotten calls from a number of the venues, asking if we’d add on another night.”
“Hey.” Lance sat back as the waitress set his eggs and bacon in front of him. “That is something.”
Gordon grinned. He really did love this kind of stuff. He started to tell Lance about some of the calls, then rolled into discussions he’d had with Gretchen about videos and scenery for a new tour. He had sketchy plans for the future that all sounded terrific, but Lance really couldn’t have cared less about the topic. Oh sure, it was great to hear that his band’s prospects were looking up, but he was happier to be having a normal, pleasant conversation with Gordon. Even if he had to get up far too early to do it. Gordon didn’t have to know that Lance had been trying to set up this casual encounter for a few weeks now.
Because he wasn’t getting over Gordon as he’d hoped. The tour had started, and he had more opportunity than usual, with willing bodies of all varieties making themselves readily available. He’d been tempted often but hadn’t taken anyone to bed. Hadn’t even taken anyone to a bathroom or closet. He remembered the quick and dirty too well to want to repeat that. Besides, Gordon was so damn close. He wasn’t always on the bus with them, but he was there often enough, and he was at nearly every gig, before and after the show. He was in his element, working the crowd, networking, ushering press to the members of his band. He worked hard, and he loved every moment of it. And Lance loved to see it. He wanted to be close to Gordon to just soak in his vibe, get a contact high.
“You seem to be doing okay.”
Lance froze, fork on the way toward his mouth. “Huh?”
Gordon smiled. His plate was empty, and he’d sat back to nurse a fresh cup of coffee. “I said, you seem to be doing okay these days. I wasn’t sure you’d take to touring. It’s not what you’re used to.”
Gordon’s tone was light, so Lance matched it. “Yeah. It’s not so bad.”
“You miss Shelby?”
“Fuck no.”
That made Gordon laugh. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Lance chewed, then swallowed. “I kind of did the touring thing a little before The Might, you know.”
“Yes. I remember. But it wasn’t anything like this.”
“No. Nothing like this.” He let Gordon see his smile. “It’s fun. And I’ve got you to thank.”
“Only a little. Fate has brought us all together.” There was a tiny emphasis on all, so Lance didn’t think he meant just the two of them.
“Fate. Luck. You.” Lance shrugged, raising his fork again. “Same thing.”
Gordon smiled, gaze dropping. “And have you taken advantage of the fanboys in the crowd?”
Lance coughed over his food, caught off guard.
Which made Gordon chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Lance let his fork clatter to his plate, then thumped his chest to try and clear it. “You’d be wrong,” he said as soon as he could.
“What?”
He lifted his napkin to wipe tears from his eyes. “I haven’t had sex with anyone.”
Levity melted from Gordon’s expression. “What?”
Now that he could breathe and see again, Lance put the napkin down. “I haven’t slept with anyone.”
“Still?”
“Still.” He didn’t need to know about the quickie in the men’s room. Lance didn’t count that.
Carefully, Gordon put his cup down. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Lance laughed. “No.” He picked up his fork. “But I don’t want anyone else.”
“This isn’t my fault.” Gordon kept his voice low even though there was only one other couple in the place, and they were seated at the counter.
“No one said it was.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
Lance paused to chew and swallow. “Probably.”
Gordon shook his head, the sharp bite of anger making his eyes glitter. “We’re not getting back together.”
“You’ve made that clear.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Ouch.” Lance kept his tone light and his eyes averted so Gordon couldn’t see that the pain was real.
“I mean it, Lance. Stop this celibacy nonsense.”
He snorted. “Why do you care?”
Gordon raised his hand in the shape of a claw, aimed at Lance’s neck. His teeth showed in a grimace. Then he shut his eyes, shook his head once, and relaxed his hand. “You know what? I don’t. If you want to be celibate, that’s your own problem. Not mine.”
“Exactly.” Lance made himself smile brightly when Gordon opened his eyes to look at him.
“I don’t understand you.”
Lance let his smile fade. “You understand me better than anyone else. You understand that I did a bonehead thing and I deserve to be punished for it.” He hadn’t intended to say any of this, but the time was here, and it felt right. Adrenaline cleared his head but made his hand shake. Carefully, he put his fork down, not breaking eye contact. “But you understand why I did it too. You know I was scared. You said it yourself.”
Emotion shut away from Gordon’s expression. Lips pressed together, he sat back in his seat.
“So.” Lance laid his forearms to either side of his plate. “You go ahead and put all the walls you need between us, because now you refuse to see that I’m not the guy who hurt you anymore.”
“Bullshit.”
“Let me prove it.” That was huge. Only as he said it did he realize that he meant it. He wanted Gordon back. He wanted a second chance at the relationship he’d torn apart.
But Gordon didn’t do second chances.
He watched Gordon lift his chin, studying Lance down the length of his nose. He watched the wheels spinning behind those smart hazel eyes. For a few seconds, he thought he might have gotten through, that Gordon might relent. But then the shield slammed into place. “No.” Gaze dropping, Gordon pushed out his chair to stand.
“Gordon.”
“No.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “I’ll pay for breakfast on my way out.” He wouldn’t meet Lance’s eyes. “I’ll see you on the bus.”
Lance took a deep breath, refusing to watch Gordon walk out of the diner. “Well,” he told his plate as he picked up his fork yet again. “I tried.” It hadn’t done any good, but he’d tried.
Chapter Eighteen
Past, September
Move This was a pretentious acid-rock band with a lead singer whose voice could shatter glass. Lance cringed and waved at the bartender for another drink to fortify himself as the singer shrieked through another chorus of an unintelligible song. Gordon had drafted him into auditioning bands for the nights The Might didn’t play. He tried to be fair and open-minded, and he succeeded with most, but this band had to stop before the woman made his brain bleed out of his nostrils.
Finally the assault on his ears came to a close, and Lance downed his scotch and seven in celebration. Exchanging a glance with Tom, the bartender, he knew he wasn’t the only one who was grateful for the relative quiet. The club wasn’t due to open for hours yet, and only a handful of staff were there to help with inventory. It made for a good audition time.
“So.” Reid Górzyński, the band’s manager, slid onto the bar stool next to Lance. “What did you think?”
<
br /> Lance stared into his empty glass, composing his thoughts.
Reid chuckled as he signaled for a drink. “Don’t bother. JD?” The last was for Tom. Then back to Lance. “I know they suck.”
Lance gave him a new look. “Yeah?”
Reid was a dumpy man in his late fifties who didn’t try to look anything but his age. Lance respected his experience, though, having heard his name a few times over the past few years connected to a number of bands. “Janit wasn’t my ideal for a lead singer, but she’s fucking Dar, the guitarist, so what can I do?” Reid shrugged and accepted his drink from Tom. “They go over big at dance clubs where we can drown her out some.”
Lance laughed. “So why’d you bring them here?” Although there was a dance floor, Fletcher’s was more of a sit, drink, and listen club than dance.
Reid’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Lance over the rim of his glass. “Dar idolizes you.”
Lance blinked. “Me?”
“Yeah. Thinks you walk on water.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. I think he’d fuck you if he wasn’t straight and you weren’t taken. And I’m not sure the straight part would mean a lot to him.”
Lance discreetly peeked toward the stage, where the members of the band were helping to stow their equipment. Dar was good-looking. Too much dyed-black hair and too much kohl around the eyes, but the strong jaw and sleek cheekbones meant he shouldn’t ever want for company if attraction was just based on looks. The chest he bared under a long tunic vest was marvelously sculpted and worth a look or five.
“He thinks you’re the best damn bass player there is.” Reid’s musing cut Lance’s perusal short.
“That’s cool. But they’re not playing here.”
Reid grinned, clearly expecting the answer. “But since I’ve got you here, can I make an offer?”
Surprised, Lance nodded.
“Dar’s thinking of putting together another band. More your type of sound.”
Lance raised his eyebrows.
Reid smiled. “Dar’s got some good contacts, despite…” He waved a hand to indicate his present band. “And he’s got some good ideas. You think you’d be interested in joining?”
“I’ve got a band.”
Reid nodded. “I know. But your contract’s up next year, yeah?”