Chapter 23. #2
“Let me read you some of these. ‘Chase chasing love’. That’s currently trending.
‘Country star love story’. ‘Gay romance goals’.
‘Country but make it gay’. Want me to go on?
Fuck it, I’m going on. ‘He said boyfriend not buddy’.
Oh, and ‘Cowboys kissing cowboys’. Last time I checked, neither of you are cowboys.
‘BL material’. What the hell’s BL? ‘Honkytonk heart throbs’.
‘He chose love’. And ‘Hard launch boyfriend’.
There are clips of your backyard concert all over the place.
They’re eating this up, Chase, don’t you get it?
I haven’t even started with how big an uptick of streams we’re already seeing on Spotify, YouTube, Apple, fucking name it.
One of the highest search engine queries this past hour is ‘no fool for love songs’ and ‘love me for a reason’ which are two songs that don’t even exist yet.
How’d you pull this off?” His voice is escalating.
He no longer cares who hears. “How’d you blow up your career and get what you want at the same time?
Why do I feel like you fucked me over and bought me a winning lottery ticket?
You handed me my own ass in a wicker basket. What in the hell did you do?”
Austin finally allows himself to smile. “What I had to.”
“I don’t even know if I’m mad at you.” Ian laughs. “How crazy is that? I think I’m mad at myself. I should’ve … I should’ve trusted you. Where’d I stray, Chase? All these years. You should fire me. You should be the one giving me the told-you-so speech.”
“Nah. Your concerns were valid. You did your job.” He glances my way, smiles, and slides an arm around me, pulling me close. “I’m just a fool in love. What else can I say?” He brings the phone up closer and lowers his voice. “All the way to the top, buddy.”
There’s a pause. “To the top,” Ian quietly echoes. “Do me a … a favor, will you? Before I get emotional? Promise you’ll call Drew in the morning. I’m … I’m tired. I think I need a dollhouse hour. And a whole bottle of scotch.”
“Love you, Ian.”
“Fuck you … and love you, too.”
Then he hangs up.
And the room erupts once again into cheers and screams, as if the show just wrapped up again—this phone call, the unexpected encore number no one knew they wanted.
A second later, Wily stumbles into the room. “Uh, what’s all the shouting for? What’d I miss?”
He gets a hundred answers all at once.
He doesn’t need ours.
Austin puts his lips on mine. I kiss him right back. The party resumes all around us as we fade into each other, our own world of breathless joy, like the phone call with Ian never happened.
The real victory here isn’t the number of streams.
It’s not the viral concert, nor the hashtags, nor the trending this-and-that.
It’s truth and love winning over cowardice.
Carving our own destiny instead of letting others dictate it.
Deciding who we are and what we want to be.
It’s Austin Chase Love stepping out of the shadows.
I’m so fucking proud of him.
There’s no telling what time it is when the Spruce people start clearing out, heading on back to their homes, and the number of people in the house steadily decreases.
I’m sure we’ll see all of their faces again come the Fourth.
Wily’s passed out on the couch where Raj and Fiona just were—and there’s no telling where Raj and Fiona have gone to.
Singing bad karaoke in the media room? Gone to bed?
Who knows. Even with the night coming to an end, there’s a lingering and undeniable sense of victory and freedom in the air no one can deny.
I wonder if that’s what inspires Austin to suddenly pick me up in his arms, crash his lips to mine, and take me up the stairs.
And push through my bedroom door.
Drop me on the bed. Peel off my clothes.
Then his own.
He crawls over the bed on top of me and takes my face into his hands like a precious treasure, eyes burning into mine with the same intensity he had tonight on that stage, when he took hold of the world and made it listen the only way he knew how.
“You sang my song,” I murmur to him, his face over mine.
The corners of his sexy lips pull up. “All of them are yours.”
“But you may have to rewrite it now.”
He puts a kiss on my cheek. A kiss on my neck.
His body is so warm, the parts that touch me.
His legs entwined with mine. His hard cock against mine, grinding ever so slightly together.
His big, guitar-loving hand caressing my face as he gently places kiss after kiss on my chest, on the other side of my neck, back on my lips.
“Is that so?” he asks, breathless.
“Yeah … because I’m not so sure it’s true anymore.”
His kissing stops. He hovers by my face, eyes on mine, bright and expectant. “What do you mean?”
I hook my arms around the back of his neck and pull his face to mine for another kiss. After seeing him up on that stage, all of those beautiful words and melodies pouring out of his soul, I just can’t seem to get enough of his lips tonight.
“Maybe I was wrong.” I kiss him. “About love songs.” Another kiss. “Maybe I’ve been wrong since the moment we met.”
He smirks, smoldering me with that cocky look in his bright eyes like I just pinned a badge on him. “Oh, I know.”
I lift my eyebrows. “You know?”
“You were wrong since the start. What do you think I’ve been doin’ this whole time? It’s been my only mission since you first got under my skin.” His face comes closer, voice lowering to a gravelly taunt. “To prove you wrong … Timothy.”
I grab hold of him and flip my man right onto his back, which knocks that smug look right off his sexy face.
Now it’s me on top of him, straddling his waist and smirking down at him cockily, my hands on his chest, pinning him to the bed. “Do you think you won, then … Chase …?”
He bites his lower lip as he starts gyrating his hips under me, teasing me with his hardness. “Oh, I won, alright. I won the whole damned thing with you.”
His fingers slide all the way down my back and take hold of my cheeks, digging in.
Something flickers in his eyes.
Something sincere.
“I won the whole damned thing with you,” he repeats, only now, I think he means something else entirely.
My heart skips a beat, watching him look at me like that.
With that mixture of recognition and hunger.
Amazement and desire.
Like he can’t believe this is his life. This is his night. This is the guy he’s got straddling his hips with his hard-on teasing between a set of tight cheeks he’s currently imprinting his hands onto.
“Or maybe …” I lean forward and bring my lips to his ear. “I’m just …” I give it a nip. “… a fool …” I go to his other ear. “… for you.”
“You’re doin’ this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Doing what?”
“Drivin’ me crazy.”
“What’s the problem? Am I a … love burden? Are you … down bad for me? Are you … about to …” I grind against him. He groans underneath me with such depth, it’s nearly a growl. “… hate me for a reason …?”
His lips part into a smile. “I see what you’re doin’ there.”
“I know all your songs now. I’m your number one fan.”
He huffs out a laugh. “What is this? Are we gonna have sex? Or are you interviewin’ to be my discography department head?”
I rock my hips again just to hear that animal noise come out of him one more time. “I’ll take whatever title you’ve got as long as I’m next to you.”
“Oh, you’ll be next to me alright.” He sits up so fast, I nearly fall until he catches me with his strong hands, clutching my hips and pinning me to his lap.
My hands fly to his chest, his heartbeat thrumming under my fingertips.
“From now until I’ve got no more songs left to sing, you’re gonna be right there next to me. ”
I shake my head with a small, disbelieving laugh.
Then I’m all out of words. Austin, too.
I dive for his mouth. He returns the kiss with equal urgency, like each one he steals could be the last, yet in so many ways tonight feels like our first. The first time he captures me in his arms with all his soul.
First time he slides inside me as a boyfriend he never has to hide again.
First time we climb toward the climax together with no walls left standing between us …
Like everything we fought for is finally allowed to exist.