Chapter 6
SIX
______
CALUM
I lurch backwards. This has to be some kind of twisted joke. He’s saying he’s a musician to get a rise out of me. “You have a truly awful sense of humour.” I let out a rough laugh, ignoring the heavy weight already settling in my stomach. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
He shakes his head. “I wish I were joking, but it’s true.”
Adrenaline streaks through my veins and I spin in a circle, searching the darkness for anyone who could have seen us making out.
Like Arthur, for instance. Or another Rush manager.
One of the interns, or an artist we represent.
The chances are so slim as to be ridiculous, but they’re still greater than zero.
I’ve never been one to take risks when it comes to my job.
The closest people are at least twenty metres away.
They’re paying no attention to us. My eyes close as I release a slow breath.
Where else could we have been seen? At the picnic table where we first met?
We only talked there. At the stage where we watched that shitty band play?
The memory of Johnny’s hands on my hips plays through my mind.
We were so close to each other. I wanted to taste him so badly.
But I didn’t. We did nothing overtly sexual there. Even if someone did see us getting all up close and personal, I would be able to explain it away. Concerts and personal space were never meant to co-exist.
This isn’t a problem, I remind myself. No one will know. Everything’s going to be fine.
“Calum, wait.” Johnny calls out from behind me, and I look up to find I’m already halfway back to the exit, my legs pumping in determined strides. “Let me explain.”
I glare at him over my shoulder as I continue walking. “Explain what? Lying to me? Telling me you’re a fucking pharmacist?”
“I am a fucking pharmacist,” he insists, catching up to fall into step beside me. “During the day. But at night, on weekends, I also happen to be in a band.” He tosses his arms in the air, as if dismissing the word. “It’s only ever been a side gig, a hobby.”
I come to an abrupt stop, though my limbs continue to vibrate with a mix of anger and thwarted lust. “You said you’re performing here tomorrow.
That doesn’t sound like a side gig to me.
” Bands don’t play in festivals of this size for kicks.
They do it to increase their exposure, to make a name for themselves.
They do it to get the attention of labels, or managers like me.
My already heated blood catches fire. “What else have you lied about?” I stalk back towards him, hands clenched at my sides. “Did you know who I was when you started eye fucking me back in the VIP tent? Is this some kind of set-up?”
His eyes spring wide and he lifts his hands between us. “No. Absolutely not. I had no idea who you were until you told me, I swear.” He pauses before adding, “Even if I’d known, I already told you… we’re not looking for a manager.”
My eyes narrow. “The band you were talking about earlier. The one that’s all talent and no ambition. That’s your band?”
“Yeah, but it’s not… I mean we’re not…” He nods his head at the festival stages in the distance and the longing on his face is clear. “We’re a pub band, Calum,” he says with a sigh. “We spend most of our time in back rooms and beer gardens. That’s all we’ll ever be. You don’t have to worry.”
“Oh, don’t I?” My eyebrows raise at the profoundness of his bullshit.
“Do you think I give a crap about your insecurity or your imposter syndrome or whatever the hell you’ve got going on?
Tomorrow you’re going to be on stage performing at Autumn Skies.
Side gig or not, that makes you a musician.
Of a debut band. From Brisbane. With no management.
” The blood that so recently filled my cock pumps through my veins in a rush of professional frustration.
“You had better not be as good as you say you are.”
The contrition he’s been so busy displaying melts away as pride shines through the serious. “We’re better than good.” His various brands of uncertainty were charming and sweet, but his confidence is a seduction I would have been better off not knowing about. “We’re fucking awesome.”
Of course they are, because that would be the rotten cherry on the top of this clusterfuck of a cake. “Give me a name, Johnny.”
“Fifth Circle,” he says, with zero hesitation now.
The corner of my mouth tugs upwards in a sneer. “Never heard of you.” I’m not sure that’s true. The name rings some kind of bell, but I’m not about to admit it.
He shrugs. “We’re not big on promotion.”
A bark of laughter erupts from my chest. “A manager could help you there, you know.”
“Yeah.” His own laugh is quieter, more resigned. “I know.”
Shaking my head, I stare at him in confusion. “If you and your band are so happy hiding your supreme talent in the back of suburban pubs, why are you even here?”
His gaze drops and he shifts on his feet in that way he does when he’s uncomfortable, or horny. It’s too soon for me to be recognising his tells. I shouldn’t have spent the last three hours focusing on him quite so completely.
“They did it for me,” he says, looking everywhere but at me. “When the opportunity came up, I was in the middle of my divorce and my life had gone to shit. I needed… something to look forward to.” His gaze lifts to meet mine. “They’re here to support me.”
Bitterness wells inside my gut, under my skin, behind my teeth.
“How nice that you have so many people who wish to love and support you.” There is nothing nice about my tone.
It’s all glass shards and barbed wire. “But this job isn’t a hobby for me.
There is no side gig, no back up. This is how I put a roof over my sister’s head and food on our table.
” Anger ricochets around my body, tearing me up from the inside out.
“I asked you flat out, the moment we met, if you were a musician and you said no. Why did you lie?”
“Because I was horny,” he snaps. “I wish I had a better reason, but there it is. I’m not after a relationship.
I just wanted to get laid for the first time in freaking forever and for whatever reason everything from my brain to my dick to the soles of my feet chose you.
” He gestures to me with sharp movements.
“I didn’t know what would happen, or if anything would happen at all.
When you asked the question, I figured I could at least talk to you, and that would be enough. Then my lie wouldn’t matter.”
“Except we didn’t just talk. Did we, Johnny?”
We both fall silent, staring at each other, and every ounce of the heat that erupted between us when we kissed is right there in his eyes—burning me alive.
“No one saw us.” The husky note in his voice tells me he’s as affected by the memory as I am. “You don’t have to worry.”
He’s probably right. It’s unlikely anything calamitous will come from this. But if he thinks I’m going to thank him for taking a half-arsed glance around before sticking his tongue down my throat he’s going to be waiting a long time.
The silence between us lengthens, until Johnny breaks it with a heavy sigh. “So, I guess this is it, then.”
“You think?” The panic is gone now, and the anger is fading, leaving irritation behind. Gripping tight to the itchy restlessness of it, I take my own quick glance around before stepping closer to him. His eyes widen at my approach, but he doesn’t back away.
Good. I want this last hit of him. It hurts, but it hurts so damned good.
I want him to hurt more.
“The one thing I’m glad about,” I tell him in a low, harsh voice, “is that I will always be the first man who tasted you.” The banked fire erupts inside his gaze and his lips part in an invitation he can’t help but give.
“I’m ever so glad you will go home wondering what else I could have done to you, would have done.
You’ll wonder until your balls are a deep, achy blue.
” He sways towards me. I evade him, but only just. “You’ll lie in bed at night and think about how close I am, a few minutes’ drive away.
And you’ll know that if you come to me, if you beg me to give you what you want…
” This is the moment I edge closer, until he gasps in anticipation. “I will turn you away.”
It takes a bit for Johnny’s lust-addled brain to catch up with my words. Then he jerks in surprise, hurt flashing in his gaze before it falls away. Neither of us move, desire arcs in the meagre space between us with sharp, painful jolts.
I clench my teeth to stop myself from taking the words back. What good would it do? This song, short though it was, has already hit its climax; we’re mere notes away from the fade out.
“You’re right, I will think about you,” he says in a low voice.
“But I’ll never be sorry we met. Even though I did the wrong thing, and you cursed me with blue balls, which I deserve.
” His mouth betrays a hint of smile, a sign my meanness has been forgiven.
“I’ll never be sorry you were my first kiss, Calum.
” He licks his lips, as if he can still taste me. “Never that.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me to stand there in the darkness at the edge of the festival grounds, painfully hard and desperately alone.
After the lights and the people swallow him up, I check my watch. It’s close to midnight. The amphitheatre will soon fall silent. The last of the smaller stages will follow soon after. In seven hours, I’m due back here for another long workday.
As I finally force myself to move in the direction of the exit, I’m overcome by a stark sense of disappointment.
I liked Johnny. He was a bright spark in my otherwise responsible and rigid life.
Our meeting seemed like serendipity at its best, so full of promise.
As it turns out, he only ever intended to use me for sex, anyway.
If he ever managed to psych himself up enough to go through with it, I think with a wry smile.
I’m still annoyed at him for lying, but I’m more annoyed at myself…
for falling for it. Johnny was just doing what people do, putting his own interests first, other people be damned.
I could hardly expect him to go against his own desires for the sake of a stranger he already planned to ditch come sunrise.
Trust is a fool’s game, and I should have known better than to hand it over so casually.
At the end of the day, the only person Hannah and I can count on to do right by us, is me. Our parents taught us that, as surely as they taught us to tie our shoelaces, count to ten, and leave them the hell alone whenever possible. It’s not the kind of lesson either of us will ever forget.