CHAPTER EIGHT
ROYCE
Hudson and I stay on that roof for several hours, and, by some bizarre miracle, I, at some point, do forget about the camera in the midst of our conversations. And there are many. Random topics, one more entertaining and interesting than the next. Some intimate even.
By the time the sun is coming up, we're standing here in silence, holding hands – this time I made the move - and watching the spectacular view.
Even though I want to kiss him more than I want air, I hold off on going for it. We have time, I tell myself.
Except seven days later, I'm still telling myself. It’s been a whole week now since I’ve seen him and holding off on that kiss has seemed like a bad idea for the last six.
But being apart hasn’t meant he was really gone. Hudson texted me less than thirty minutes after I left him that morning. And the messages and calls haven’t stopped since.
Of course, after today, I won’t have to lunge for my phone every time it jingles anymore because he’ll finally be joining us on tour.
“You’re up early.” Angel comes out from the back of the bus where the bunks are. Given his love for the gym and five a.m. work outs, he's the only morning person in the bunch. Except today. Although, I'm not sure if it counts as being up early if I haven’t actually been to bed yet.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I glance out the window, along with a steady stream of passing headlights, a reddish glow is now creeping up on the horizon.
Angel slides into the bench across from me. He taps the empty mug in my hands. “You gonna blame it on the coffee?” His smirk is even more annoying this early in the morning.
“Can’t. Wasn’t drinking any.” I lean back, stretching my arms behind my head. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour already and various parts of my body have started to get stiff or fall asleep, only adding to my overall discomfort.
Angel crinkles his brow. “Then what was in the cup?”
I laugh. “Sleepy-time tea. The shit don’t work.”
He snorts. “Where did you even find this stuff?”
I point at the cupboard above the sink. “Derek’s stash. Dude, we’re the worst rock stars ever. When we get hung up on someone, do we go out and get shitfaced? Do ungodly amounts of drugs to help us forget? Fuck a ton of hot ass? No. We drink a cup of sleepy-time tea like a bunch of pathetic pussies.” I slam my hand on the table. “And then cry about how it doesn’t work. Holy shit.”
Meanwhile, Angel is laughing hysterically, trying hard to muffle the sound to keep from waking the others. I point at him. “You’re the last one. You’re all we have left. Without you out there, whoring your way through our loyal groupies, all we are is a bunch of boring guys in our mid-twenties who like to get together and play a little music.”
Once upon a time, we knew how to get down. We came crashing into the scene, every intention of living it up, being the hype. Then Derek got married. I got less stupid and even Blaise miraculously cleaned up his shit. Angel hasn’t ever partied hard, but when it comes to giving the fans that special one on one attention, he’s always more than happy to screw each and every one of them in the name of the band.
“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about there. You know me. I like my freedom. Last thing I’m looking for is someone to turn me into you or Derek. Shit. You look at him closely lately? Boy’s dropping weight now left and right.”
I noticed it too. “Yeah, I know. Ava’s worried as well. She’s even tried reaching out to Sammy, but said she got shut down in two seconds flat. It’s weird. They used to be tight. Like, Ava was her ally when it came to Derek, keeping her in the loop whenever we were on tour, and now she wants nothing to do with her? I don’t get it.”
There's no longer any sign of laughter on Angel’s face or mine. None of this is funny anymore.
“They’re going to make it through this though, right? I mean, I’ll be the first one to say that relationships are bullshit, but Derek and Sammy, man, they’re like one person. They’ve been together so long I don’t even know how to think of him without her.”
I nod. “It would destroy him.” I sit up straight, rubbing my eyes. “Shit, this is depressing.”
My phone vibrates. It's on the table beside my mug, so it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of us.
“That Hudson?” His expression changes instantly, but I feel guilty being so easily swayed to my happy place when I know my friend is so ungodly miserable at the same time. Even guilt can't erase the grin on my face though .
I pick up the phone and check the message. “He’s at the airport getting ready to board the plane. Only six more hours and we’ll be meeting him in Michigan.” I’ve never been so excited to arrive in that fucking icicle in all my life. We're barely into October and already they’ve had several feet of snow there. Thankfully, it eased up enough to let flights in and out again, but there's no telling what the roads will be like the further North we travel.
“Nervous about going from one date to living together?” Angel chuckles.
“You think?! And I can’t decide which is worse. That we’re about to be stuck on a bus for the next ten days, or that we’re going to be stuck on a bus with all of you for the next ten days.” The tour’ll be far from over after that, but once we hit New York, we’ll be leaving the bus behind and taking off by plane to begin the international portion of our world tour. All in all, we have another two months to go before we're headed home again.
“Who’s going to be stuck with all of who?” Ava rubs her eye as she stumbles along the moving bus, still half asleep and bearing a striking resemblance to some of the Zombie extras we saw in a movie the night before.
“Hudson is going to be stuck with all of us and Royce is scared we’re going to ruin him.” Pretty sure Angel gets some sort of sick satisfaction out of egging her on. As expected, Ava’s eyes go from barely there, to popping out of her head.
“You say that like we have a history of corrupting people. Name one person who was in some way harmed by over exposure to us. ”
“Well, there’s Francis.” Ava’s assistant. She was a really sweet girl once upon a time. Conservative. Wore clothes that actually covered her body. Never swore. These days she drops the f-bomb at least once in every sentence. Twice if she can make it fit. And the last time I saw her, she busted out her breast to show me a brand-new nipple ring. No need to express how I reacted to that one. Pretty sure there’s still a hole in her office door from where I ran through it.
“Francis doesn’t count. She was a beast waiting to be unleashed. All we did was set her free. And look how happy she is now!” She slides into the booth beside me, determined to see the argument through. “Name someone else. Someone whose life is worse now, not better.”
“I’m pretty sure Gary thinks his life sucks big balls with us in it.” I have a list. I can go on and on with this all the way to Michigan if I have to.
“Gary was miserable before he met us. All we did was redirect his pain and frustrations. Who else you got?”
Then the only legit person on my list wanders in and the game comes to an abrupt halt because he was never supposed to be on it in the first place.
“What the fuck are all of you doing up so early?” Derek stretches his torso back and forth, revealing in an almost painful way how thin he's getting. Apparently, it's too much for Ava.
“Making you some goddamn breakfast. What do you want? Name it, I’ll get it for you. And then I’ll fucking spoon feed you myself if I have to. This shit is getting unhealthy.”
He stands frozen in mid stomach scratch for a moment. “Um, some eggs maybe? ”
Her brows reach up so high they nearly touch her hairline. “And?”
He glances over at us for help. “Toast?”
Ava grunts. “It’s a start.” She slides out of her seat just as he cautiously moves past her to take his seat beside Angel.
“Is she forcing her cooking on everyone or just me?” he whispers.
“Just you, buddy. Word to the wise, start eating more when we’re out. Don’t nobody here want to even smell that girl’s cooking.” Angel twitches his nose back and forth as he reaches up to crack the window because Ava already managed to burn the butter in her frying pan.
Six hours later and I'm pacing back and forth in the penthouse suite we're staying in for the night. Ava sent a car to pick up Hudson. Part of me knows he’s expecting to see me at the airport, but I just can't risk being seen there. Now that Garrett is popping up all over the media thanks to that part he landed on some soap opera, I'm already terrified enough people will start connecting the dots between our past ‘friendship’. Unlike me, Garrett sees no reason to keep a low profile regarding his sexual orientation, as is now all too clear after having seen him strolling down the red-carpet hand in hand with Gay Clooney.
I haven’t yet broached the subject with Hudson, although, I know he's aware of the fact that I'm not out on a public level. What he doesn’t know, is just how motivated I am to keep it that way. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not anywhere near ready to explain it to him.
Not because I think he won’t understand, but because I don’t want him to see me as a coward, the way I see myself .
I check my phone for the hundredth time, wondering if I’ll hear from him or if he’ll just come strolling in. Then the door opens to the penthouse and there he is. God, he’s gorgeous.
Every previous thought is magically erased from my mind as he comes toward me, arms stretched out and a smile that dances on his beautiful lips, as well as in his chestnut-colored eyes.
Then, I’m breathing him in, my face resting near the nape of his neck, body wrapped in his embrace and it flashes through my mind how out of all the places in this world I’ve seen and been, this is now my favorite.
“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” I reluctantly step out of his arms.
“Me either.” He laughs. “For a moment there, I wasn’t sure I’d make it. My mom said she’d have a replacement for me no problem. When it turned out to be her, I began to panic. Last time the woman worked in her own shop she gave half the shit away for free. Woman can’t say no to people.”
“Shit. So, who did you get to cover for you?” I can’t help but notice that Hudson is still holding my hand. It takes everything I have to still focus on the words he’s saying versus all the things he’s making me feel.
“Had to call my ex.”
And he has my full attention again. “I’m sorry?”
He squeezes my hand gently and then leads me over to sit with him on the couch in the main living area.
“Yeah, I had to call Paul. Didn’t want to, trust me, but there was no one else.”
Even while doing everything to avoid eye contact, I can sense him studying my reaction .
“So, Paul is familiar with doing your job? Guess he must have spent a lot of time hanging out there, huh?” I try to sound like I’m joking, but it comes out sounding pathetic more than anything.
“Not exactly. He and I ran the store together when my mother first opened it. He’s got a background in graphic arts and marketing, so he did our logo, all of our branding and advertising...anyway, when we split, he left the shop and started his own consulting firm. Which worked out perfectly for me. His flexible schedule is the reason I now get to be here with you.”
The tender pressure in my palm reminds me to raise my head again. Hudson is smiling. Same way he was when he walked in. Somehow, I can’t help but wonder if Paul was privileged enough to see that same smile when he showed up to work at the store this morning.
“Sounds like a great guy, this Paul. How come you two broke up?” Yeah, I’m really doing it. I’m going to press the issue. Make him tell me all the things that will linger in my brain and torture me at night, along with every other insecurity that comes creeping out after twilight.
Hudson runs his thumb across my cheek. “Paul is a great guy, but he wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship I’m looking for. He’s still got to figure some things out. Like how to be honest about who he is with his family and friends. After a while a guy gets tired of always being introduced as ‘my buddy’. You know?”
I nod. I understand. Too well. Because I heard the same complaint from Garrett.
HUDSON
I’m not sure if it was the mention of Paul’s name or some other issue I’m unaware of, but something is definitely making Royce uneasy. In case it’s the Paul thing, which is likely, actually, I figure I’m best off to just move the conversation along to something else in hopes of seeing that sexy grin of his return.
“This place is suspiciously quiet. Where is everyone?”
Royce clears his throat. “Lunch. Ava’s on a mission to fatten up Derek, so she’s taking him on a tour of the burger joints around here. The other two went with them. I figured we could just order something in when you got here. Unless you’d rather go meet up with everyone for greasy fries and fake-beef burgers.”
Considering the temperature outdoors is something I’ve never felt outside of my freezer, I’m not at all opposed to staying in. Not to mention, spending time alone with Royce has pretty much dominated my thoughts since the last time I saw him.
“Ordering in sounds perfect. What are our choices?”
Royce stands up and I follow. “Also, why is Ava trying to fatten up Derek? Is he up for slaughter? The sacrificial band member for Thanksgiving? What?”
Finally. He laughs. “No. We only do that for Halloween. And then we prefer to use a groupie or roadie. Depending on the moon.” He reaches the kitchen and begins to flip through a folder clearly marked with the hotel’s logo. “Truth is, Derek’s been pretty stressed lately and he’s losing weight because of it. Feeding him fried food is Ava’s way of being nurturing. Meanwhile, we have plenty of non-fried choices available to us. Here. Have a look.” He slides the menu across the counter to me.
“Wow.” Judging by the prices, they’ll be serving us gold plated food no matter what we order. “This may turn out to be the most expensive lunch I’ve ever eaten. Maybe we should go hit a burger joint. That’s really more my budget.”
Royce grins. “It’s weird, right? Ordering a twenty-five-dollar side salad. Blows my fucking mind too. Even now. And I’ve had a lot of overpriced salads. But you learn to roll with it. Besides. This is your budget now. You’re supposed to be one with the band. Get the inside scoop. This is it. This is the strange and glorious world we live in.”
I eye the menu skeptically. “If you say so.” Twenty-four hours ago, ordering a meal off this menu would have meant having my power shut off, so it will take some serious effort to learn to roll with it. And what if I do? What if I get so used to spending money like it’s straight from the monopoly set, I forget what it means to live in the real world. Well, my real world anyway. Because the truth is, two months from now, I’m headed straight back there.
I’m still busy crunching the numbers for a cup of soup and a side of fries on my mental calculator when I feel a hand on mine. Royce is standing beside me. His carefree grin is gone, and it’s been replaced with a serious, but kind smile that tells me he knows exactly where I’m coming from.
“Let’s get a pizza.” He uses his free hand to pick up the phone. “What’s your favorite?”
Is it possible to fall for guy over something so trivial? Maybe it is. And maybe knowing exactly how to make a guy earning eleven bucks an hour at his mother’s art and coffee shop feel comfortable in his new life of luxury isn’t so trivial after all.
“You’re going to think it’s gross. Besides, I doubt they’ll even have it.” I close the hotel menu and turn my palm up to hold his hand in mine.
Royce cocks his brow at me curiously. “Why? What do you eat on your pizza? Something nasty like anchovies?”
I laugh. “Close. Tuna.”
He throws himself backwards dramatically. “What??”
“It’s true. I like tuna on my pizza. Well, tuna and corn, to be specific. Hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can look at you the same way now.” He sounds uncomfortably serious for someone who better be fucking kidding.
“Wow. We faltered at pizza already. And things seemed so promising.” I tap my finger on the counter, waiting for the awkward ‘are we joking or are we not’ moment to morph into something else.
“They really did. I better see for myself if anything is really different now.” I feel a tug at my hand as he brings me toward him, turning me to face him full on. “Yeah. Things have definitely changed. Before, I was able to remind myself to take my time. Take it slow.” He takes a step toward me. “Now, I’m pretty sure that’ll be fucking impossible.” He’s barely finished speaking when his lips first graze mine softly. Then, as soon as our mouths lock, something inside me begins to stir. Something wild and untamed. Something I didn’t know I had within me, and whatever it is, I’m not sure setting it free will be safe for either of us in the long run. But it’s too late .
Royce’s tongue is rolling over mine. His arms are wrapped around me tightly and my hands are roaming his body like they’re searching for buried fucking treasure. Except I won’t need the X to find it.