Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
______
JOHNNY
An incessant beeping forces my eyes open, and I cringe at the dawn light creeping its way across the room. Did I fall asleep? Gasping, I turn over. The other side of the bed is empty. My palm slides over the cold sheet. Calum is long gone. We’re over.
I drag myself out of bed. Put in my usual hour of guitar practice.
Shower and get dressed for work. Drink my coffee.
Pack lunch. All the while, a hollowness yawns wide inside my chest. Days and nights of loneliness stretch before me.
There’s no help for it. My only cure is two suburbs away, preparing for his own workday.
Ten minutes and a thousand reasons separate us.
Calum is right. We can’t continue like this.
Risking his job. Risking this chance for Fifth Circle to grow the way I’ve always dreamed.
Neither of us wants to put our future on the line for a fling that can’t possibly go anywhere.
I’ve done enough to disappoint my parents without suddenly announcing, by the way, I’m bisexual and never bothered to tell you.
They’ve already lost their daughter-in-law, and the grandchildren they hoped we would soon provide. To tell them I’ve fallen for a man… it would be too much. They would never reject me outright, I believe that. But I’m not sure they’d ever forgive me.
Given enough time, my attraction to Calum will fade.
We’ll get used to being around each other, we’ll reach an equilibrium, and the rest of what we had will fall away.
Life will move on. Then, one day, I’ll be going about my business, and BOOM.
A woman I have no idea exists will knock me on my arse and that will be that.
I’ll fall in love again, because I won’t be able to stop myself from loving her.
I’ll trust her, because she will earn my trust. I’ll share my life with her, because being apart would hurt too damned much.
My parents will love her as much as I do. They’ll be proud. And I’ll be happy.
I have to believe it will happen. Not now, not soon, but someday. When I’m ready.
The next time I lay eyes on Calum, he is officially Fifth Circle’s manager and we’re having our first official meeting. He’s back in his suit and tie, freshly promoted and bursting with enthusiasm.
When he sees me, he stills for a moment before an overly bright smile appears. “Good evening, Johnny.”
I approach slowly, my heart sinking at the wariness in his green gaze. He’s not sure he can trust me. He’s worried I’ll give us away with a careless look or a tell-tale remark. That I’ll take everything he’s worked so hard for and turn it to shit.
I can hardly blame him. I’ve pushed for more at every turn. I’ve lied and seduced and argued with him to get what I want.
No more.
“Calum,” I say with a nod. “Looking forward to working with you.” I hold out my hand. When he accepts, I keep the shake brief—perfunctory, even.
His sigh of relief, silent though it may be, doesn’t escape me. Holding his gaze, I give him another nod. I want this to work. I want him to succeed. Most of all, I want to be the man Cal needs me to be.
But as he begins the meeting, my hand tingles with awareness. I can’t help but wonder if that handshake was the last time we’ll ever touch.
* * *
CALUM
The next two months are filled with an ecstatic kind of chaos.
I waste no time solidifying Fifth Circle’s brand and taking over their web presence.
They’d recently launched a new website, designed by Ned’s boyfriend, Toni.
Slick and modern, it needed only minor tweaks to bring it in line with my vision for the band’s future.
Their social media accounts, on the other hand, were woefully under-utilised.
Between a fresh photo shoot and a multitude of candid shots taken with my phone camera, I’m now adding fresh content to their socials daily.
I’ve also streamlined every one of their administrative processes—from booking gigs, to ordering merchandise.
It took some time for Johnny to loosen the death grip he had on everything.
He’d been running the band almost single-handedly from the moment of its inception, so I understood how bizarre it must have felt to hand the reins over to an outsider.
Eventually, I’d pointed out two important facts.
One, that’s precisely why they hired me and, two, he could use the extra time to write more of the music that makes my job possible.
With vague mutterings about stupid forethought and bothersome planning, he made a conscious effort to let go.
Ned is slowly learning to trust me. The nervous energy he exuded at our initial meetings has morphed into something more relaxed and playful.
I’m learning his moods and what he needs to feel safe.
He’s shown little interest in the numbers I live for—streams, likes, follows, engagement.
The man has his focus firmly set on three things: writing music, performing music, and Toni.
The combination works for him, and I intend to protect that balance.
Gavin is similarly dedicated. He loves his wife and his drum kit, in that order.
Oz, the youngest at twenty-two, is quieter. He doesn’t share much, so I haven’t gotten to know him as well. But he’s always on time, and when he manages to put down his bass guitar, he has mad skills on a soundboard.
Which brings me back to Johnny. Hell, every thought I have circles back to him, eventually.
Johnny has remained true to his word in every way.
Not a single utterance has passed between us about our previous relationship.
He doesn’t tease. He never flirts. There have been no ‘accidental’ touches, heated glances, or late-night texts.
While I’ve spent the last two months becoming friendly with the other three men in the band, Johnny has kept his distance.
It’s not a cold shoulder. There’s no animosity. He’s just… restrained.
It means a lot, that he respects the boundaries I put in place. Everything is working out exactly as we hoped.
With every step Fifth Circle takes down the path I’ve laid out for them, their fan base continues to grow, and their streaming numbers climb steadily higher.
Every milestone fills me with satisfaction.
After so long working under other managers, I’m finally responsible for my own band.
I’m sharing their talent with the world in a way that benefits us all.
This is my dream come to life, and I am basking in every second of it. Truly, I am.
Except…
I miss him.
I miss the way he looked at me before I told him not to. I miss the way he pushed, the way he craved, the way every encounter teemed with discovery and joy.
Even when we’re in the same room together, especially when he’s close enough to touch… I miss him.
* * *
JOHNNY
The applause of the crowd still rings in my ears as I finish dressing.
Ned owned that stage tonight, like the rock god he was born to be.
With the opening chords of every song, fresh sparks flared on my skin and tripped their way down to the tips of my fingers.
Oz and Gavin fed the fire and, together, we blazed like a goddamned beacon.
My entire body vibrates as I chuck shit into my duffel bag and finger-comb hair still wet from the shower.
We’re loaded out and ready to go, so I pop my head into the next room to say goodnight to Gavin and Oz.
I have no idea where Ned is. Given Toni showed up backstage after our encore, it’s a safe bet they’re fucking in a corner somewhere. Lucky bastards.
Glancing at my watch, I make my way through the darkened backstage area towards the exit. It’s well past one in the morning. I need to be bright-eyed and ready to dispense drugs responsibly by seven. With how keyed up I am, I’ll be lucky to manage even a couple of hours sleep.
“Johnny, wait up.”
My feet grind to a halt. Several parts of my anatomy clench in want and my eyes slide closed.
Damn it. I should have moved faster. Ignoring my heart’s attempt to kick its way free of my chest, I turn to face Calum as he catches up to me.
He’s dressed in black pants and a Fifth Circle t-shirt, his ginger hair all messy and gorgeous. “Hey.”
“Just checking in before you head off,” he says. “I know you had concerns about booking a venue of this size, so I wanted you to know, you came so close to selling this place out it’s insane.”
A short laugh falls out of me. “Really?”
“Really, truly.” The brightness of his green eyes matches the megawatt smile. “You put on a phenomenal show tonight.”
My chest swells at his praise and I look away, swallowing past the sudden lump in my throat.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” God, I’m pathetic.
If this man patted me on the head and called me a good boy, I’m not sure I wouldn’t come right there on the spot.
The joy he takes in our every success has become the most potent fuel my ambition has ever known.
Never in my life have I worked this hard on my music, or this consistently.
All so I can bask in the warmth of that goddamned smile.
“You’re heading home?” he asks, breaking the sudden silence.
“Yep.” Better to be curt than ramble my way to an invitation he doesn’t want and won’t accept.
He nods. Licks his lips. Fuck, I wish he wouldn’t do that. It’s been three months now since I tasted him. Since he touched me. Since that stupid handshake.
I cast my gaze about, hoping to see one of my band mates, staff from the venue, anyone. Every shadow is dangerously empty.
“Well, I won’t keep you.” He nods again. Waits for me to turn and leave.
I don’t.
There’s no other viable choice. I have to go. But I can’t seem to move.