by Ann Lister
On the surface, his statement sounded so simplistic, but only Simon could know the power that hung off of each of his words. This was big–quite possibly the biggest, most significant conversation he might ever have with his brother, and Simon felt it in every cell of his being. He continued to study his brother and watched as several emotions flickered in his eyes. They ran the full spectrum, but ended with concern.
“Are we all right, little brother?” Ben asked.
The two of them had certainly had their days of not talking, angry months of time where the emotional distance between them was so great Simon wondered if the gap could ever be bridged, but somehow they'd managed to find their common ground again, and it was good. Their brotherly bond had survived, and for that, Simon was so very grateful.
He nodded at Ben's question and nearly choked on the lump in his throat which was preventing him from speaking. Ben directed them towards the backstage area and they walked side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders as they moved. “There's something I've been wanting to share with you,” Simon began with a positive tone to his voice.
“Sounds like good news,” Ben said with a hopeful tone.
“It is to me.”
“Then go ahead and lay it on me,” Ben replied.
Simon was about to open his mouth to talk when Ben's personal security guard stepped into place at his side, along with a reporter from the local newspaper. And just like that, they were no longer two brothers chatting after work. They were back to being rock stars who seemed to perpetually live their lives under the stage lights, and a second later, Ben was whisked away.
Simon remained in place and smiled. This is our life, isn't it? For better or worse, they had both wanted this world to be theirs and had worked their asses off to achieve every damn piece of it. He was about to turn away when Ben shouted over the din of the crowd at him.
“Can we talk later at the after-party?” Ben bellowed over the noise.
Simon nodded and offered Ben a wave. Yeah, they could talk later because Simon wasn't going anywhere. There'd be no more running or hiding from this because the desire to have everything meant too much to him–Dakota meant too much to him. For the first time in his life, Simon was happy to stay put and just be himself.
Dakota bumped up against his side, and Simon felt the brush of the back of his hand slide across his own. It was Dakota's very subtle way of lacing their fingers without actually doing so. It was just one of many actions Simon couldn't wait to one day do for real without worry of what someone might think.
“You okay?” Dakota asked in that low, lazy timbre that always sent a shiver of excitement and promise through Simon.
Their gazes met then, and Simon felt tears begin to bite at the corners of his eyes. After a long moment he said, “Yeah, for the first time in forever, everything feels like it's going to be just fine.”
Was it possible to see the future in someone else's eyes? Simon pondered that while he fought the urge to pull Dakota against him. The man standing beside him, looking so formidable yet filled with hope, was everything to him–the whole world and then some, all wrapped up in the amazing package that was Dakota Malloy.
“Did you really mean what you said the other night?” Simon asked with watery eyes.
“About wanting to make something between us work?” Dakota countered.
“Yeah, that,” Simon said with a weak nod.
Dakota tipped his head shyly. “I meant every fucking word I said, especially the part where I admitted how I felt about you,” Dakota's voice was soft but powerful. “It was always you for me. Back then, as much as it is today.”
Simon drew in a deep breath which expanded his chest. “I'm going to talk to my brother tonight at the after-party,” he said. “I want him to know about me–and about us. I want to be able to touch you in public, maybe even hold your hand if I want, or feel free to give you a fucking hug.”
“You're really gonna to talk to Ben?”
“Yep, it's long overdue for him to know who I really am,” Simon stated.
“How do you think he'll react?”
“No clue,” Simon admitted. “And honestly, I'm not sure I care all that much either way. If he turns away from me, then I'll have to accept it, but it won't change who I am or put me back in that fucking closet. Not having me a part of his life will be his loss, and I'm not living that lie anymore for him or anyone else.”
“I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now,” Dakota stated flatly as if he were reciting the set list for the next show. He did that purposefully whenever they had a public conversation. It was meant to remove the risk of someone else realizing the intimacy they shared. If they pretended to be generic and disconnected, then those around them might believe them to be just that. The gesture wasn't lost on Simon, and it was exactly that which he hoped would one day change. As soon as he talked to Ben, things were bound to get better. There was no fucking way he'd settle for less ever again.
“Come on. Let's get out of here,” Simon suggested. “And I'll let you kiss me all over my body.”
“I guess it's a good thing I brought a change of clothes, then,” Dakota chuckled as he reminded them both of the very first weekend they spent together–all those years ago.
“Damn fucking right, because you definitely won't be going home tonight–or anytime soon, for that matter.”
To be continued . . .
If you enjoyed this novella, and want more of Simon and Dakota, then you won't want to miss their full-length story releasing in early 2018!
Other Books by Ann Lister
Rock Gods Series: (M/M, M/M/F)
Fall For Me, Book 1 ~ Spring 2013
Take What You Want, Book 2 ~ Fall 2013
Make You Mine, Book 3 ~ Spring 2014
Looking At Forever, Book 4 ~ Fall 2014
Meant For Me, Book 5 ~ Summer 2015
Fighting His Fire, Book 6 ~ Fall 2015
Beyond The Music, Book 7 ~ Winter 2016
Forever At Sunrise, Book 8 (Novella) ~ Fall 2016
Guarding The Gods Series: (M/M)
Zac's Mulligan, Book 1 ~ Summer 2016
Honor and Pride, Book 2 ~ Winter 2017
More Than My Words, Book 3 ~ Summer 2017
Band Of Brothers Series: (M/F, M/M)
For All The Right Reasons, Book 1 ~ 2010
Beat Of His Own Drums, Book 2 (novella) ~ 2017
More Titles by Ann Lister: (M/F)
Sheet Music: A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story ~ 2009
Without A Doubt ~ 2011
An Early Spring ~ 2012
Covered In Lace: The Lacey Sheridan Story ~ 2012
Follow Me
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Website: www.annlisterauthor.com
Twitter: @AnnListerAuthor
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Author Bio
Ann Lister is a native New Englander currently living on the island of Martha's Vineyard with her husband. She has pulled details from her years living in the New England area and uses many local settings and landmarks in her novels.
After graduating art school, marrying, and raising two daughters, she established her own video production company. Her nearly two decades working in video production included work within the music industry and won her a coveted Telly Award. Her 'behind-the-scenes' exposure to the music world and her love of rock music is the inspiration for her erotic rock star romances.
Her rock star romance, “Fall For Me”, Book One in The Rock Gods series, was a Finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Award and Book Three, Make You Mine, established her as an Amazon #1 Bestselling Author. Each book in The Rock Gods series brings her two favorite elements together: musicians and the love between two men. Her stories focus on what it truly means to love; love unconditionally, love without restrictions or labels, love without fear or judgment – to just simply love.
Sneak Peek: For
All The Right Reasons
For All The Right Reasons
Band of Brothers Series ~ Book One
By Ann Lister
Copyright © 2010 by Ann Lister. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
Sydney boarded a plane bound for Chicago's O'Hare airport and settled in for the short two and a half hour flight from New York City. She dropped the fold-down table toward her lap and spread her file over it. The folder contained important details about the job and several glossy printed photographs of the band she would be photographing during the tour.
How many times in the last decade had she done this? Too many bands and far too many concert tours to count. It meant months and months at a stretch, living out of hotel rooms and eating nothing more than room service. Good or bad, it was the lifestyle she had chosen and she had very few regrets.
Her travels had taken her around the globe and to almost every continent. She had worked with nearly every big name in the music business, from the hard rockers of Metallica, to pop icons like Madonna and Billy Joel. Her résumé read like a ‘who's-who’ in the music industry.
It usually took photographers decades to make a name for themselves. Sydney achieved her ‘star-like’ status in under four years, specializing in unique black and white compositions that no one else was shooting. Her photographs had the ability to make the musicians appear larger than life, real or surreal, and she fed off the power that came with it. It seemed the grittier the picture, the more her clientèle approved. They were willing to wait long stretches of time, sometimes over a year, to get her to photograph them and she was paid handsomely for her skills.
It was a love-hate relationship. They loved her–she hated them, and everything they stood for. Every year that passed, her distaste for them and their habitually bad behavior increased. She had seen it all, been propositioned by the most famous and vile musicians, and was numb to all of it. They were nothing more to her than subjects at which to point her camera.
On this tour she'd be working with a band called Reckless. They were new to her but not new to the business. A slew of top-ten hits over the last fifteen years had kept them on the road touring and headlining sold-out shows at every stop they made.
The Reckless tour would kick-off in Chicago, then zig-zag its way across the country for eight straight months. It would be one of the longest and most involved tours of her career and require her to basically be ‘on-call’ to the band, sixteen to eighteen hours a day. Sydney would shadow them to interviews, press events, dinners, rehearsals, and dozens of concerts. She would document their tour completely, showing their lifestyle in front of the public eye, as well as behind closed doors.
The end product would be a coffee table book that would include hundreds of her photographs with personalized entries from the Reckless band members surrounding each picture. The book would shed some light on the controlled chaos they endure while on tour.
This job also included her traveling with the band on their tour bus and private charter planes. It was unprecedented access to a band and something Sydney hadn't done since her early days on the road. She hated this aspect of the job, but Reckless was offering her the largest contract of her career.
Sydney pulled the band bio for Reckless from the pile of papers in the file and skimmed over it. The band consisted of two brothers, Ben and Simon Gallo, and three additional musicians. She guessed them all to be in their late thirties and early forties.
She lifted some photographs of Ben. One was an eight-by-ten headshot. The second showed him sitting in a chair with an acoustic guitar resting in his lap and several electric guitars propped up in metal stands beside him. The description below his photograph listed him as the lead singer and guitarist for the band.
She studied Ben's headshot first. His wavy hair was dark blond and collar length. A neatly-trimmed goatee, in a much deeper shade of brown, covered his chin. The facial hair framed his mouth perfectly and made his smile powerfully sensual. It also helped accentuate his unique green eyes.
Sydney set Ben's headshot aside and looked at a photograph of Simon. She could see the brotherly connection between the two men, but Simon had much darker features and his arrogance was evident in the smile he affixed to his face. The band bio listed Simon as the drummer. The other three members played bass guitar, rhythm guitar and keyboards.
Sydney scanned the contents of the file and photographs for the umpteenth time. Over and over, her attention was drawn back to the headshot of Ben. His eyes were the color of tropical waters and warmed her. The near-perfect symmetry of his face was intriguing to her on an artistic level, but his masculine features unsettled her as a woman. His image sparked something inside her and she had no idea why.
She pushed the file back into a side compartment of her carry-on bag and reclined her seat. She made a mental note to call her agent as soon as her plane landed. At the very least, Carol deserved a special ‘thank you’ for the first class seating arranged with the ultra-plush leather seats. Being Carol Lambert's number one client definitely had its perks.
Sydney made the call while she waited for her bags to appear at the luggage carousel.
“Thanks for the sweet ride to Chicago,” Sydney said. “That came courtesy of Ben Gallo,” Carol said.
“Since when does the ‘talent’ arrange for my transportation?” Sydney asked.
“It was all outlined in the contract, Syd. You read the contract, right?”
“That's your job,” Sydney said. “And then you give me the highlight reel.”
“It shows the lengths some of these bands are willing to go to keep you happy,” Carol said.
“And they're all schmucks,” Sydney said. “Each and every damn one of them.”
“I hope you're well rested,” Carol said. “Because this band of schmucks is going to keep you busy for a long time.”
“Last tour for a while,” Sydney said with a sigh.
“Then what? Vacation?” Carol asked.
“I'm gonna spend some of the cash Reckless is paying me and enjoy life.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Carol said.
Sydney smiled and hung up her phone.
Carol Lambert was the second angel–right after Hilda Friedman–that had dropped into Sydney's life. Knowing either woman would have been pivotal, but having the opportunity to work with both was . . . monumental.
She had been a twenty-year-old naïve girl when Hilda took her on as an intern. Ten years later, Sydney could still vividly remember the day Hilda released her from their contract.
“Everything go all right in Tallahassee?” Hilda asked. “Like clockwork,” Sydney said.
The older woman was hunched over a light table, carefully scanning the proof sheets of photographs Sydney had sent from a concert in Tallahassee. Hilda gave each image a thorough screening with a loupe magnifying lens before moving on to the next. She seemed oblivious or uncaring that Sydney was standing nearby and continued to work undeterred by her presence.
The silence in the room was unnerving to Sydney. She stood nearly motionless beside the table, fearful of distracting Hilda from her task. She knew from experience not to interrupt the woman, no matter how long it took to be addressed. Sweat began to collect on her palms. A lot was riding on the critique Hilda was about to give her. A positive critique would mean more solo shows without Hilda's over-bearing presence. A negative response meant a demotion to playing her assistant again.
Hilda was a woman of few words. When she did speak, it always came with a certain amount of weight. Sydney had developed a thick skin from working with Hilda. She had grown accustomed to the woman's gruff attitude and short temper. She also knew even the harshest criticisms were given with the intent to improve Sydney's skills.
Sydney heard Hilda's mumbled, one-word comments and dried her hands off on her pants. Finally, Hilda lifted her head and set down the magnifying eye piece beside the proof sheets.
“Black and white film wasn't requested,” Hilda
said.
“I know, but I thought the available lighting was perfect for it.”
“Smart move,” Hilda said, nearly cutting off Sydney's response.
Sydney looked at the older woman, uncertain if the comment was delivered with sarcasm. Hilda walked across the room and sat down behind a large mahogany desk, littered with photographs and a mountain of paperwork.
“Well, what are you waiting for–a hug?” Hilda asked, waving her hands in the air as if shooing away a bug. “You passed your last test and that means our time together has come to an end.”
Hilda pulled out the top drawer of her desk and retrieved a business card, then held it in Sydney's direction.
Sydney saw a faint smile form on Hilda's face and stepped toward the desk.
“You'll need an agent,” Hilda said, handing Sydney the card. “I set you up with Carol Lambert. I think you'll find her as warm and cuddly as me.”
Sydney read the hand printed information on the back of the card. “This appointment is for tomorrow,” Sydney said.
“Make it happen, Syd, and don't disappoint me.”
Hilda settled back into her leather chair and folded her hands in her lap. “You have a gift,” Hilda said. “Go use it.”
Sydney opened the door to the Allstate Arena and adjusted her black blazer one last time. Her blond hair was neatly secured at the back of her head in a clip and thick-rimmed glasses adorned her face concealing the intensity of her blue eyes. The plain white blouse she wore beneath the blazer was buttoned almost to the base of her throat hiding any hint of cleavage. Loose fitting blue jeans with a black leather belt completed her outfit.