The Symphony of You (Forever You #2)

PROLOGUE

SEAN

Danny’s benefit, October

Countless people had come into my life during my thirty-seven years of existing on this planet.

As a young man, I’d been a revolving door of sexual encounters, so many that I’d lost count.

Most had failed to leave much of an impression, and a few FWBs had made nice moments that I occasionally recalled.

But now that I was maturing, I couldn’t help feeling as if I would be one of the few to have never known love.

Working in a gay club for nearly twenty years, I’d seen countless hook-ups in every place you could imagine.

I’d been a guest at anniversaries and weddings.

Heck, the owners of the Adonis, Glen and Patty, had gotten married right on the dance floor.

I’d watched from the sidelines as people found happiness in all forms.

Two years ago, a little light had walked into my life. As I greeted the club’s guests, I found myself looking for him through the thickening crowd sporting a plethora of gay-pride wear. Nobody knew how to wave flags better than the gays, I mused.

So many people had shown up for my friend Danny’s fundraiser, packing the Adonis and forking over their hard-earned money for a worthy cause.

Besides the games and raffle tables set up near the entrance, this Friday was like any other in a gay club–crowded, noisy, and exciting.

Because the event was eighteen and over, as opposed to the normal twenty-one limit, families and allies had shown up, including some of Danny’s mentees from the LGBTQ center. The energy was tangible.

I came around to greet Danny, who was sitting in a booth by the bar.

He was smashing in a black button up embroidered with flowers, and equally adorable with a Burger King cardboard crown on his head, designating him the VIP of the night.

His tight expression as he shook hands with someone told me he was uncomfortable, but he’d always been reserved.

Not to mention, his life had been turned on its head.

He’d gone from being an engineer at a top construction firm with a fancy new apartment to having to learn how to walk again.

I pushed down the surge of anger for what had happened to him and met his knuckles with mine, his hand shaking. It had been six months since his assault, and he was doing remarkably well, but still struggled with simple things like hand-eye coordination and balance.

Jere, his best friend from childhood, was sitting next to him, while Danny’s mom, Mrs. Becker, who was done up in a classy dress and immaculate make-up, flanked his other side.

I motioned to the drinks scattered around the table. “Guests of honor get free drinks, so don’t hesitate to splurge.”

Danny sipped at the straw of his virgin pina colada. “I feel like I’m sixteen again and at the kiddy table, unable to participate in adult things.”

“Sorry baby, but no alcohol with your medication,” Mrs. Becker said.

“My point,” he mumbled back.

Jere said to me, “Are you sure you don’t need some help?”

I’d given Jere a job at the Adonis recently. He was huge, strong and had previous experience as a bouncer. He needed the money since Danny was unable to work and the medical bills were piling up. He was a good guy and had dropped everything to move to Chicago to help take care of Danny.

“You’re right where you need to be,” I said and offered him a wink. “About an hour, okay?”

“Yep,” Jere said with a rare grin.

“What are you two conspiring?” Danny bristled, narrowing his eyes on his friend.

“Sorry, don’t know what that word means,” he said, likely meaning it.

To hide my smile, I turned on my bootheels and circled the dance floor.

As head of security for the Adonis, it was hard not fussing over the details.

I’d beefed up security at the entrance just in case some asshole wanted to ruin the event and posted one of my employees to keep an eye on the bathroom because a party always meant some fool bringing in drugs and overdosing.

I hoped no one ruined it for Danny tonight. I would not be forgiving and ban them for life from the club.

As the music kicked up a notch and party-goers flooded the dance floor, I scanned the crowd.

Of all the people that had shown up tonight, I found myself looking for one in particular.

The young man I’d come to call my brat. He’d been scarce lately, and I found myself trolling the local bars looking for him because I’d grown to crave our interactions.

I remembered the first time I’d run into him three years ago. He’d slipped past security with a fake I.D and was the reason the bartender now had to double check identification cards when serving, because the club didn’t need a reason to be fined.

I could see in my mind’s eye my brat swaying to the music in a corner, his head tipped back, his eyes closed, those ridiculously long and sooty lashes pressed to his cheeks.

One look at his pink-tipped locks and baby-face told me he wasn’t of age but he’d handed over his fake I.D with a sly smirk as if he were convinced I was stupid enough to buy what he was selling.

And when I pointed out the fake I.D, he scanned me with chocolate eyes that dripped with playfulness as if he were considering offering himself in exchange for a one-night pass.

Instead, he ran his gaze all over me, taking in the teddy bear ears I’d donned for bear night at the Adonis along with my poorly-chosen red T-shirt.

“I think you’re jealous, Pooh Bear,” he’d said, his plump and pink lips curling in the corners. “Afraid I’m going to hog all the attention?”

I’d been incensed and slightly amused as he likened me to a chubby cartoon bear, but I did my job and had him escorted out of the club.

It had only taken him a week to slip in again.

And we’d gone back and forth, trading insults and heated looks, until I’d confiscated his fake I.Ds again and personally tossed him out.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he’d said, throwing a glare over his shoulder as he strolled down the street. I’d seen him many times after that, haunting bars and other clubs.

It was strange, but after three years of this flamenco, I didn’t even know his name.

The dance floor was filling up and I invited Mrs. Becker to dance with me, who surprised me with some sassy moves.

Everyone was having a good time and as the night wound on, Danny started to relax and enjoy his party.

This was more than just a benefit for my friend–it was an opportunity to celebrate those closest to us.

Mrs. Becker went to take a break and as I made my way toward the back of the stage, I felt a pair of hungry eyes on me. I wasn’t sure what made me glance over my shoulder, but I did and the biggest smile creased my face.

My brat walked in, dressed modestly in a black long-sleeve and ripped jeans, the curls of his dark hair swirling around his face. He was scanning the crowd and I allowed myself to think he was looking for me.

With a growl of excitement, I intercepted him, his eyes brightening as he spotted me. I knew that look and likened the excitement to a predator setting its sights on its prey.

“You seriously suck at your job,” he said over the din, the bite of his words pleasurable. “How many times have I slipped past your meatheads? I’ve lost count.”

“You’re overestimating yourself. I told them that if you showed up, to let you in,” I countered, leaning down so I could get a whiff of him under the guise of making sure he could hear my words. Nothing fancy, just old-fashioned soap.

He slid his sassy eyes up to me, his breath brushing across my throat. “So, you admit that you’re hot for me? You’re desperate to see me. You’re in love with me and want to tap my ass. Go on and admit it. You want to worship my–”

I let him drone on, savoring every word. Two could play at this game and I made a silent promise that it would be his jaw on the floor tonight. “Shut your trap and do me a favor. Go buy a ribbon at the bar. They're twenty bucks and it’s for a good cause.”

Before he could respond, I turned on my heels and rushed behind the stage, just as Miss Scarlet Chiffon was announcing the next round of entertainment.

I quickly shed my clothes and slipped into a pair of beat-up jeans and a plaid shirt cut off at the shoulders.

It had been many years since I’d shaken my goods on a stage, but I was doing it for Danny and I was willing to dredge up my problematic past if it helped him out.

But the sudden electricity zipping through my veins had more to do with getting on the stage for the first time in fifteen years.

Miss Scarlet Chiffon announced my name and I burst through the curtain, the lights momentarily blinding me. The music blared Joan Jett, getting my blood pumping, and putting me in the mood. I was surprised at how easily everything rushed back to me, as if I hadn’t spent years off the stage.

I moved my assets in a seductive dance, the crowd’s cheers egging me on. I shook my hips causing my jeans to slide down my thighs to reveal the skimpy thong underneath, and the crowd went wild.

I realized how much I’d missed this life. This part of myself. The wild, free, and young gay man I’d put away.

As hungry boys pushed ribbons into my thong, I searched the crowd for my brat. He was standing where I’d left him, watching me with hooded eyes and a little smile that let me know he enjoyed our sparring as much as I did. I busted out my best moves, ignoring the little ache in my lower back.

The crowd moved around him as if he were an island bastion, lush and full of fruit, a promise to chase away the chill of my lonely, boring life. If he asked me to join him in paradise, I wouldn’t turn him down. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that made me want to break my promise.

Ronnie, Danny’s friend, pushed a ribbon into his hand and Jere helped him to the front of the stage. I lowered my hips to his level and he stuck a ribbon into my thong, his cheeks the color of summer strawberries, but he was grinning like the happiest guy in the world.

I couldn’t keep the music from getting into my system and reviving the part of me I thought I’d buried. As I locked eyes with my brat, I thought this might be the night I broke my promise to abstain from casual sex.

Something passed between us. Electricity, as if we were running on the same frequency. He cast one last longing look before leaving out the front door. I hoped it wasn’t the last time I saw him.