9781488051265

by Reverb (epub)

Zavier considered this. “Yes, something like that.” He dropped his voice. “She’s scared, and I haven’t seen her this scared since—” His face tightened and flickered with anger and sorrow. “Since Ray nearly died. Ray never saw that fear, so he’s more worried than Dom and me. We want to help her, but leaning on us is uncomfortable for her sometimes.”

  “Other times, it’s exactly what she needs.” Because David had seen that, too. When she wanted a hug or needed a laugh. Family.

  Zavier glanced down, then nodded. Agreement without using words. A strange form of reluctance, and David wondered how many people ever saw this side of Zavier outside of the band.

  “Not this time. Right now, she needs you.” Zavier paused, and that sly smile came back. “Plus, there’s karaoke, and I hear you owe her a beer.”

  David almost broke into laughter, but he kept it to a huff of breath. “Okay, payback might pique her interest. Especially if I promise to sing for her. I can do what you’re asking.” He gestured to the stage. “Shall we head back?”

  Zavier looked around. “I wonder if they’d let us watch Two Times Strong from here. In the wings is fine, but it’s been a damn long time since I’ve been out in the crowd at a concert.”

  Well, there was only one way to find out. David asked the sound guys and the guards and no one seemed to care, as long as the fans didn’t bother Zavier or cause a scene. Since they hadn’t yet, they likely wouldn’t. Zavier texted Ray, and stayed and watched. He didn’t sing along to the songs, but he nodded and bobbed with the beats. David sang, and that got him a smile from Zavier.

  When Two Times Strong’s set was over, Zavier leaned over. “Mish does need to hear you sing.”

  Heat to his cheeks, and a flip in his stomach. “I can’t sing like she or Ray does.”

  Zavier’s smile was a flash of teeth. “I’ll let them judge that.” He nodded toward the stage. “Now we should get back.”

  They did. Didn’t take long for Zavier to get cleaned up and changed before a limo arrived, this time an SUV for the six of them, since Marcella begged off. “I need to take a stab at some press releases I’ve been putting off.”

  Mish crinkled her nose, but she was focused on the topic Zavier let slip earlier. “I can’t believe Zav heard you sing before I did,” she said.

  “I’m not sure it was really singing. More like belting out lyrics at Two Times Strong.” David shifted in the seat, his leather jacket creaking in ways that sent shivers down his spine. Always loved that sound, but good leather was pricy. This jacket he’d borrowed from Domino.

  “Still.” Her fingers were in his and she smelled of vanilla. She wore a green dress that was short and sparkled when she moved. Silver and emerald jewelry and a set of patterned black stockings rounded out the look. Her heels were killer. He didn’t need to ask if she’d dance in those, given what footwear she wore on stage and how she could move around while playing.

  His outfit was pretty tame for club-wear. His own jeans again, tight in a way he liked, a brilliant blue tank top, and the jacket, with all its studs and chains, like something he’d only dreamed of wearing during his punk days.

  “You like Two Times Strong?” That from Ray.

  David tore his attention from Mish’s legs and met Ray’s gaze. “Yeah, they’re really good. I didn’t know them before they were your opening act—well, I’d heard ‘Like A Little Light’ but didn’t know it was them. I looked them up when you said who you were touring with.”

  “You like us or them better?” Domino had a smile that was just shy of a smirk, until Adrian poked him and he twisted in his seat. “Hey!”

  “That’s not a nice question.” Adrian’s voice was mild. He was in dress slacks, but wore a dark red T-shirt that clung to his frame. He also sported a leather cuff similar to the one Domino wore.

  It wasn’t a bad question. David understood where Dom was coming from. “Your style is different. You’re more punk, they’re more electronic pop. But you’re also similar. Energetic, loud, and queer. I can see why people are fans of both bands. You guys are phenomenal and the more mature band, hands down. I’m not saying that for the paycheck, either. I’m out there hearing you play, same as the crowds, and I know what I’m hearing. There’s a level of skill in Twisted Wishes that’s several notches above Two Times Strong.” He glanced out the window, then focused on Domino. “But they’re gonna go places in a year or two, mark my words.”

  Zavier had one of his thoughtful looks on. “Yes, they will.”

  The conversation shifted to what Ray thought of Two Times Strong and how Twisted Wishes was helping them up the ladder, as much as they could.

  “They’re good kids,” Mish said. “They’ll be fine.”

  “And they’ve seen us navigate the pitfalls,” Zavier added.

  “Or not navigate them.” Ray shook his head. “Lane’s got balls. They’ll be more fine than I was.”

  A few minutes later, they pulled up to the club and stepped out into a flurry of exclamations and flashes of cell phones and more professional cameras. Mish took David’s hand.

  “You know,” he murmured. “People are going to think we’re together.”

  “Good,” she said.

  They strode into the club with more ease than David expected, but then he should have seen that coming. He was with Twisted Wishes. Some of his bewilderment must have slipped through because Adrian huffed a laugh. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. He’d been with corporate movers and shakers and they could unlock doors. The way Twisted Wishes moved through the world was completely different, though. Plus he had no idea what would happen when the tour ended and his contract ended, too. Business was why, ultimately, he was here, except everything professional had been thrown out the window by the woman holding his hand.

  He shoved those thoughts aside when they entered the club proper. The atmosphere was loud, thumping, and both dark and bright. Mish’s laugh was worth hearing, though. “Okay,” she said. “You win. I’m glad I came.”

  Ray had the biggest fucking grin on his face. He wore a mesh shirt that both hid and exposed his tattoos, and leather pants that were probably going to have to be peeled off him at the end of the night. Zavier snaked an arm around Ray and pulled him close. That man wore all black, from his pants to the tight tank top that showed off his drummer’s arms. The look in Zavier’s eyes was one David had glimpsed a few times on the bus—unguarded and intense—as if he were trying to figure out how he could possess all of Ray at once. Then it shifted and he smiled. “Care to dance?”

  Ray’s expression was one of bliss and happiness. “Of course.” Then they were gone, out into a sea of people, with Adrian and Domino following a few moments later.

  Mish tugged David to her. “Dance or sing?”

  “Can’t we do both?” He’d give about anything to see Mish move on the dance floor and be right there rather than down in the pit or up in one of the aisles when she shimmied her way across the stage. “Besides, I’m gonna need a drink before I sing for freaking Twisted Wishes.”

  She laughed at that, and did the unthinkable—stole a kiss from him right there and then. The artificial sound of cell phone cameras whirred nearby.

  Half of him was ecstatic, the other half deeply worried.

  “Let’s go check on the other guys.” Mish tugged him in the same direction the other couples had gone.

  Couples. They were a couple. No taking that kiss back. “Marcella’s gonna have our heads,” he said.

  Oh, her smile. “I’m sure she had a statement all written up.” Mish hugged him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. In for a penny, as the saying went.

  The dance floor was a colorful mass of writhing bodies, moving in time with the music. They spotted Zavier and Ray—how could you miss them moving against each other the way they were? The look on Zavier’s face was one of sublime satisfact
ion. Ray had his eyes closed.

  “There’s no doubt that they’re together, is there?” David spoke the words close to Mish’s ear.

  She shook her head, a wide smile lighting up her face. Then she pointed over at Adrian and Domino, and holy shit, Adrian could dance. And keep up with Domino as they careered around the floor in movements that looked like ballroom crossed with thrash.

  “I think you’re gonna find me a piss-poor dancer after that.”

  “You’re gonna be fine. I’ve seen you move.” Mish’s voice was sultry and hot in his ear. Before he could think otherwise, he pulled her out onto the floor. They fell in together, turning, twisting, Mish twirling in a move he recognized, and he caught her hand. They flowed together, stepping in time with each other and the thudding pulse.

  “You sly shit! You ballroom dance.” Her eyes sparkled in the ever-changing lights.

  His answer was to swing her around in the tiny space they’d carved out on the floor. “Might as well give the cameras something to love.”

  “I’ll give you something to love...” It came off as a challenge. The music changed and picked up the pace—and so did she.

  He let her lead because his heart and soul ached. She’d given him someone he could love if he let himself. If the circumstances were a little different.

  If he wanted to take that leap of faith.

  God, dancing with Mish was like heaven and hell all rolled into one. She moved like magic and his body responded to her, the beat that thrummed through his bones, and the need that sang in his veins. He didn’t know how long they were out—long enough that they swapped who was leading several times—before Domino broke between them. “Ray wants to catch his breath, get a drink, then hear David sing.”

  “Well—” Mish spun Domino around. “Who are we to keep Ray Van Zeller waiting?”

  Dom led them to the bar where some of the club patrons were belting out a rendition of “Love Shack.” Wasn’t bad as far as karaoke went. Adrian, Ray, and Zavier had already acquired drinks. Both he and Mish opted for beer.

  “I’d do shots,” Mish said. “But we need to be on the bus later.”

  Ray closed his eyes and leaned against Zavier. “Don’t remind me.”

  Whatever Zavier whispered into Ray’s ear earned him a groan. “You’re fucking evil, Zav.”

  “It’s why you married me,” Zavier said.

  “I thought we got married for tax purposes.”

  Zavier laughed, a rare, uninhibited bubbly sound.

  “There’s a story there,” David said.

  Mish huffed. “Oh yeah. But part of that is true, even if they’re gonna grow old together and end up bitching about the weather while sitting in rocking chairs on some porch somewhere in sixty years.”

  Ray still had his eyes closed but was smiling. “That’ll be fun.”

  “It’s not much of a story, really.” Zavier tucked his hand into Ray’s pocket. “I’m aromantic, that’s all. But yeah, Mish is close. Ray and I will probably argue about using the peanut butter knife in the jelly jar more than the weather.”

  “I hate dirtying a second knife.” Ray’s smile hadn’t faded.

  “And I hate picking peanut butter out of my jelly.”

  Ray opened his eyes and met Zavier’s gaze. “I know.” He grinned from ear to ear.

  Zavier’s lips twitched up. “Oh. I see.”

  David absorbed the information and the banter. “So do I.” Everything he’d observed fell into place with Zavier’s statement. Queer band, indeed.

  “You gonna sing me a song?” Mish’s breath warmed David’s ear.

  Yeah, he was. In front of the rest of Twisted Wishes. Someone else was waiting their turn, which gave David time to compose himself and pick a song. He’d already half a mind as to what to sing, figured they’d never have it, and was both pleased and a little shocked when he found it in their database.

  Yeah, maybe it was somewhat on the nose, but what the heck. After a rendition of “Carry on Wayward Son” by the person in front of him, David took the stage. Of course Twisted Wishes whistled and clapped, which intrigued the crowd, and there were the cell phones being held up.

  Well, in for a pound, too.

  When the opening notes of Erasure’s “Chains of Love” started, David jumped right in, singing loud and strong. He also ignored anything out beyond the end of the stage, because fuck if he was going to stare out at that crowd, those cameras, or Twisted Wishes. He’d stumble over notes and probably off the stage, too.

  Now he understood why Dom had a rock persona. It was one thing to sing while tipsy with friends at the local queer bar, another to sing at this club in front of strangers, a famous rock band, and the woman he was falling for.

  When he got toward the end of the song, he did look out over the crowd and found Mish. Joy suffused her face, though she wasn’t grinning. Her expression was profound and full of love.

  He was so fucking glad the song ended, because he wasn’t going to get another note out of his throat after seeing Mish like that. He walked off the stage to clapping and cheering, and worked his way through a crowd of smiles and photos. Mish held out her hand and he gave his to her.

  Mish pulled him into her arms. “That was fantastic,” she said into his ear. “Zav was right about your voice.”

  “Still ain’t like yours, rock queen.” He pulled back from the embrace. “I think I need the rest of my beer.”

  She chuckled but let go, and David downed the rest of his brew in a few swallows. Someone else was up on the stage now and that singer drew attention away from their corner of the bar. Thank god.

  “Mish’s right.” Ray’s tone was serious and professional. “You’ve got pipes and excellent control. You could sing.”

  David considered that. His voice had changed a lot—vocal cords thickening—but he’d kept singing. Even joining a queer choir early on. Plus Ray wasn’t the type to lie, especially not about music. “Maybe. I don’t have the passion you guys have. Singing’s fun, you know, but I wouldn’t want to do it for a living.”

  Ray laughed, then coughed. He took a swig of his drink. “Fucking dry air.”

  “Does take passion to do what we do.” Mish nursed her beer. “Lots of downs to go with all those ups.”

  “I’m not cut out for that. Or for the spotlight.” David spotted another cell phone pointed their direction. “Though I’m getting used to that.”

  “The spotlight is a blessing and a curse,” Domino said. “Everyone has their way of dealing.” He was sober for a moment, then grinned. “Mine’s being me.” He grabbed Adrian’s hand. “Dance with me? I want to show you off some more.”

  Adrian laughed. “Dancing’s fine, baby. But who’s showing who off?” He let Domino take his hand and pull him away from the bar.

  David watched them go. “I don’t know if I can do that.” The words slipped out before he thought about what they meant.

  “Date a rock star?” Mish’s words were soft.

  “No.” Except that sounded wrong, too. His heart leapt into his throat. “Adrian makes it look easy.” He met her gaze. “I’m here with you, but this is new to me.” Wasn’t what he should be doing, not as a professional. But damn, his heart and soul wanted this. “I’m just saying, I need to figure it out.”

  She seemed to take those words in and turn them over in her head. “I get that. I don’t want to be a burden.”

  Those words weren’t just for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ray shift. “You’re not.” David took her hands. “You most certainly are not.” Through their entwined fingers, Mish trembled, the tension evident. “Wanna go show up those guys on the dance floor? We do make a pretty good pair.”

  Mish’s grip softened. “Yeah, we do.” She paused. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  By the bar, Ray shifted again, leaning into Zavier and wh
ispering something.

  “Me, too,” David said.

  Mish led them back to the dance floor, and they ended up spinning and sliding and dancing circles around the other couples. By the time the night was over, David’s legs ached and his face hurt from smiling.

  When the band flopped back into the limo, Mish pulled him close. “Thank you. I needed to get out for a while. Not think.”

  “It was my pleasure,” David murmured.

  Mish kicked Ray in the shin—not hard—but enough to make him start. “Hey!”

  “Don’t think I don’t know you planned this, kiddo. You and your coconspirators.”

  “Me?” Ray grinned. “No idea what you could mean.”

  The whole limo dissolved into laughter that turned into murmurs of conversation until they returned to the tour buses.

  When they climbed out, Marcella was waiting for them, looking both smug and annoyed. “I see you all had fun.” She waved her phone.

  Adrian shrugged. “Photos and video happen when we go out.”

  Oh god. Video. David wiped a hand down his face and over his beard. “My singing’s out there, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. Nice voice.” She paused. “You and Mish playing tonsil hockey is also out there.” Marcella’s expression hinted at concern. “You guys making this official? Or should we no-comment it?”

  He met Mish’s gaze, and the same hesitancy and need lay in her, too. David cleared his throat. “It’s probably too late to put the cat back into the bag.”

  “I should probably make a pussy joke here, but I’m gonna refrain.” Mish managed her most innocent smile.

  Marcella rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”

  Ray looked like he might choke for laughing so hard. It ended in a coughing fit.

  “Yeah,” Mish said, her tone serious. “Why don’t we say we’re dating?”

  Something flipped in David’s chest. Warmth. Joy. Fear. He swallowed. “That’s fine with me.”

  Marcella nodded, as did Adrian. “Got it covered,” he said. She strode to the crew bus while the rest of them boarded the band bus.

  Dom headed to the bathroom to strip off his makeup while the rest of the band changed into more comfortable clothes. Not much privacy, but then none of them were getting naked. David followed their lead and pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt.