Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
“ S eriously?”
Kit was so shocked that he could only stare at Luka, completely floored by the unexpected opening. He’d wanted to explain for so long, but after their fight, Luka had blocked him and the rest of the band; the only contact they’d had had been via lawyers and Headcrash, outlining Luka’s rights to the songs on the album they had been making.
Then Luka had disappeared off somewhere, and Kit hadn’t heard a thing until almost a year later, when the F-Holes had been starting out. He’d wanted to contact Luka at that point, but by then, Sultana had been on their first tour, and Kit felt that any conversation was going to have to be in person, because Luka would otherwise just block him and maybe even disappear again. After the tour, Headcrash had gotten the band right back in the studio working on their second album, insisting that they needed to keep the momentum going if they didn’t want to be a flash in the pan. Kit had argued for some time off, but he’d been pressured by Blake and Josh to do what Headcrash wanted. All three of them knew that writing the songs for the second album was going to be an uphill battle without Luka, and it had been — they had been very lucky to pick up a couple of numbers by other artists to fill out the album, and their sound just hadn’t been the same. Still, it had been successful, and then they were sent off on tour again.
Kit had gone to a show when the F-Holes had been opening for Queen Anne’s Revenge and had come to New York. He even managed to get backstage, since he’d met Devon Bailey several times at industry events, but by the time he had, the F-Holes were already gone, heading to their next gig. After Sultana’s second tour opened — first the leg in the US, then the European tour they’d just finished — he’d not been able to do anything at all.
But it seemed fate had finally presented him with the opportunity he’d been wanting, so he was going to take it, and just pray that Luka was open to hearing the truth — and maybe even accepting it.
“Okay,” he said when Luka nodded. “Let’s both sit down.”
Luka returned to the recliner he’d been in, while Kit took the matching one opposite. He drew in a breath. “Look, the first thing I want to say is that I’m sorry, okay? I had no idea Jordan meant anything to you beyond being a fan of the band.” He’d seen Jordan at several of their early shows, but he’d avoided him as much as possible. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d always gotten bad vibes off of the man. He’d never noticed Jordan treating Luka any differently than the rest of the band, especially since the guy had always seemed to be more interested in trying to rope Kit into a conversation he didn’t want.
For a moment, Luka simply looked at him, as though trying to determine if Kit was telling the truth. Then he grimaced, waving a hand. “Okay, let’s say I accept that. It doesn’t explain why you said what you did afterward.”
Kit winced, feeling his stomach twist at the memory. He ran a hand through his hair. How to explain that without giving away the pain he’d been going through? He couldn’t tell Luka he’d been in love with him and hurt from knowing Luka wanted someone Kit had been convinced he could never compete with: a successful teacher whom everyone seemed to adore.
“Drunk and stupid,” Kit replied, licking his dry lips. “The night of Blake’s graduation party at the apartment was only a few days after we had followed you to Dr. Bennet’s building. At that point, we all thought you were sleeping with him, and when you got a phone call and left the party early, I was positive you were going to his place. There were lots of people at the party, friends of friends, people I barely knew. I don’t even know when Jordan got there. It was a while after you left, I think, and by that time, I was pretty wasted.”
Actually, he’d been drinking his feelings, gutted by the thought that Luka was in love with and sleeping with Martin Bennet. He wanted to tell Luka so badly, so Luka might finally understand that sleeping with Jordan had been nothing but a colossal fuck up on Kit’s part, but there was no way he could make the admission and risk seeing disbelief or pity on Luka’s face.
Luka was staring at him, focusing in the way he usually only did on his music. “Yeah, it was Martin. He’d come across an old album I’d been looking for and wanted to let me know he’d found it. Since I don’t really care about parties, I went and picked it up that night.” He dropped his eyes, looking at the hands he was twisting in his lap. “It also gave me an excuse to see if Jordan was available, and I’d been hoping I could convince him to come back to the party with me. But he texted me that he had to study and didn’t have time, so I just hung out with Martin and we talked about the music for a while.”
“Jordan decided to come without you,” Kit said. “I knew who he was because he’d been to enough of our gigs, plus we’d met him at that wedding the previous summer. He was good looking, and I was drunk, and so when he came on to me, I guess I figured what the hell, why not?” He also knew it was partially out of the need to feel like someone wanted him, but it had definitely been part of his fucked up logic. “It’s not like I even liked the guy, honestly. He was just a body.” A substitute for the man Kit had really wanted.
Luka looked back up at him. “When I came back, and I asked where you were, Blake told me you were hooking up with Jordan. I couldn’t believe it, so when I went into your room and saw the two of you, I was gutted.”
Kit wanted to squirm. When Luka had burst into his room, looking dark and sexy and outraged, Kit had thought for a wild, wonderful moment that Luka was jealous that Kit was with someone else. Then Luka had started cussing and hurling insults at Kit and Jordan both, calling them backstabbers and accusing Kit of stealing his boyfriend.
Kit had been confused, especially when Jordan had given Luka a pitying look. “Are you jealous?” Jordan had asked. “Why would you think I wanted you when there was a hunk like Kit around?”
Luka had gone pale, and even through the haze of alcohol, the sight of the betrayal on Luka’s face had been engraved into Kit’s memory. His eyes had been on Kit, but Kit was still impaired enough that he hadn’t fully processed the fact that Luka had been talking about Jordan, not Martin Bennet. But for the life of him, Kit couldn’t figure out exactly why he’d said what he had next.
Maybe he’d wanted Luka to feel the pain Kit had in wanting what he couldn’t have. Maybe he’d wanted to feel like he had some control over something where Luka was concerned, or for Luka to see him as more than just the loyal friend who was always there for him. But if he’d just kept his mouth shut, he knew they could have gotten through things. While Luka still would have been hurt and angry, it would have been directed at the person who fully deserved it. Kit had been incredibly stupid, and a day hadn’t gone by since the words had passed his lips that Kit didn’t wish with all his heart that he could call them back.
“At least Jordan wants me,” he’d said. “Maybe you need to stop thinking you’re the center of the universe, Luka. Other people have feelings and needs too, you know.”
That had been the end of their friendship, and almost the end of everything. It hadn’t made Kit feel any better that Josh and Blake had defended him, especially not when it had been the nail in the coffin for Luka leaving Sultana. A few stupid, hurtful, drunken words, and eight years of friendship had been gone as though they’d never existed — and Kit had lost any chance of ever being with the man he loved.
Looking at Luka now, he regretted not being able to tell him the full truth, but there was no way Luka would accept that Kit had wanted him , not Jordan. But he had to say something, or Luka would no doubt tell him to go to hell.
“I’ve asked myself that a thousand times,” he finally admitted. “I guess I was jealous, in part, that everyone wanted the sexy Luka Petrov, even though I knew you were so wrapped up in the music that you never even noticed how many hungry looks you were getting from the audience.”
“Me?” Luka’s eyes were wide. “That’s rich! They were all looking at you . The all-American jock type. Everyone always wanted to be your friend.”
“The word there is friend ,” Kit replied. “Believe it or not, more than one person befriended me trying to find an in with you. But you were so wrapped up in the music you never noticed. Yeah, I had offers, but you might be surprised how many people saw me as a way to get to you .”
Luka hesitated, frowning in confusion. “II can’t believe it. Jordan was the first person since we were in high school who ever went after me. And even then, he was just biding his time until he could go after you.”
Kit shook his head. Luka had always been insular, withdrawn, and unaware of his own appeal. His parents had done such a number on his self-esteem, Luka had never believed anyone wanted him. Hell, he’d not even seen that Kit did, and Kit had been closer to him than anyone else. Maybe that had been Kit’s biggest mistake; instead of waiting for Luka to see him as more than a friend on his own, he should have made it obvious he wanted Luka. But with Luka’s parents having been so forceful, Kit had never wanted to push. He’d wanted Luka to make the connection of his own free will, not out of any pressure he might feel because of Kit’s constant presence in his life. He wanted Luka to fall in love the way Kit himself had: naturally and joyfully.
“Jordan must have bashed you over the head and hauled you to his cave, then,” Kit said. “Because I watched plenty of people, male and female, trying to get your attention all through high school and college. Dude, you have a mirror, right? Trust me, you’re damned attractive, even if you can’t see it.”
Luka was obviously off balance, his eyes wide and shocked. He probably needed time to process, but Kit wasn’t finished. Since he’d gotten at least a couple of home truths out, there were more. While Luka was there and actually listening, Kit needed to make sure he was direct enough that Luka couldn’t overthink everything the way he’d always been prone to do.
“Luka, I swear I’m telling you the truth. For what it’s worth, I kicked Jordan out, and Blake and Josh had to hold me back from beating the pure living crap out of him right there. Jordan tried to claim he’d just done what he had to in order to get me to notice him, but frankly the dude wasn’t my type at all, and I was stupid as fuck to even go as far as considering him for a one night stand. I finally told him that if he didn’t leave, I’d file charges for sexual assault on the grounds I was drunk and couldn’t consent. I know it probably didn’t have a snowball’s chance of standing up in court, but I didn’t need it to. It scared the shit out of the little weasel, especially when Blake and Josh made it clear they’d back me up. He ducked out of there fast, and I never saw him again.”
“I never saw him again, either,” Luka admitted. “I blocked him and you and the others, especially after Josh and Blake took your side and said I was being crazy for not listening to you.” He looked uncomfortable with the admission. “I guess I was a little crazy. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and my entire world had imploded. Like all the curses my mother had placed on my head for not doing what she and dad wanted and for being gay had come true with a vengeance. All I wanted was to run away and hide, so I did. I had saved enough from our advance from Headcrash to afford a place outside New York, and the label promised not to sue me for breach of contract as long as I let the songs I’d written be on the album and played on tour. I didn’t care at that point. They were Luke Peterson’s songs, not Luka Petrov’s. I didn’t want them anymore.”
There was so much pain and loss in Luka’s voice that Kit ached. He wanted so much to close the distance between them, to take Luka in his arms and hold him tight, to make the doubt and fear go away forever. It was hard to resist the urge, because he’d never fallen out of love with Luka; in four years, he’d never found anyone who meant to him what Luka did. Standing by while Luka was in agony over Kit’s own words was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.
“I get it,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry, Luka. Sorry for what Jordan did to you and my part in it. Sorry that you had to go through so much alone.”
Luka shrugged, not meeting Kit’s eyes. “I survived. I even thrived, after I stopped licking my wounds and started writing songs again. I even found friends.”
“And they are loyal to you,” Kit told him. He hesitated, but he knew he had to make the admission, even if it made Luka angry. Luka was going to find out eventually, and it would be better if Kit told him so it didn’t look like Kit was telling tales behind Luka’s back. “After you stormed out yesterday, I had to admit that we knew each other, because I think the rest of the band thought you were on the verge of a psychotic break.”
That made Luka raise his head, eyes narrowed. “They know?”
Kit held up a hand in a placating gesture, hoping Luka wouldn’t lose his temper again — not that Kit could blame him if he did. “All they know is that we went to high school and college together, and that you were in Sultana at the beginning. I told them you had every reason to be angry at me, but I didn’t say why. That was when Kris basically offered to rip my balls off if I hurt you again, and the others backed her up.” He smiled reassuringly. “They basically said that if you told me to get lost, I’d better get gone fast.”
“Good.” Luka drew in a breath. At least he had accepted Kit’s explanation, even if he didn’t look too happy about it.
“So… is that what you want? For me to leave?” Kit asked. He didn’t want to go, but that had been the deal with the others.
For a long moment, Luka didn’t say anything. He simply gazed at Kit, brow furrowed, eyes dark and unreadable, before releasing a tired sigh. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I need time to think. This isn’t how I was expecting a conversation like this to go.”
“Yeah. Neither was I,” Kit admitted. He had been hesitant when he’d gone outside with the other members of the F-Holes, fully intending to join them for lunch to give Luka the space he’d obviously needed. But Kris had stopped him from getting into the car, jerking her chin back at the bus and telling him to talk to Luka while he had the chance. Now he was glad he’d listened to her. The situation wasn’t comfortable between them yet, but Luka could have stormed out and refused to say a thing. Maybe things weren’t healed — hell, maybe they never would be — but he’d done what he could. The ball was now in Luka’s court, and Kit could only wait to see what Luka decided.
Luka stood. “I’ll think about it, but it may take a while. And we still have shows to do.”
“I take it you can put up with me, at least for tonight, and maybe tomorrow?” Kit asked.
“I think so,” Luka shrugged, then turned away and headed toward the bunks. He gave Kit one last, searching look, then closed the door.
Whatever happened now, Kit could only wait and hope that Luka could look past his own pain, and finally accept the truth. Maybe he couldn’t, and Kit would have to give up ever having Luka back in his life, but at least he’d finally been able to tell Luka the truth. He just hoped it gave Luka some kind of closure, and if that was all that ever came of it, Kit would simply have to learn to live with it.