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- Herausgeber: WS
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Axel
Last year, my band, Grindstone, hit the stage at Rocktoberfest, our big break at last. But in the middle of that triumph, my love life crashed into disaster. I’ve been in love with Hugo Threadgold for years, but he was once my high school music teacher, so I figured he was off-limits. Then, in Black Rock, I discovered he was aware of me too, and for a moment I thought I'd get it all. I came clean about my feelings, but my heart cracked when Hugo turned and walked away. I'm not giving up, though. I'm ready to lose my straight-guy image for him, if only I can make him believe in us.
Hugo
Ten years ago, Axel and his best friend, Ed, were my most promising students. I taught them everything I could about music, and watched them struggle to become the musicians they are today. But boys become men, and last October in Nevada, Axel told me he'd developed romantic feelings for me. I was rattled. I'd never let myself look at him that way. Now that he's put the idea in my head, I can't get him out of my mind. The man he's become is someone strong and talented, determined and attractive. Someone I could fall for. But isn't it my duty to keep things professional and walk away from the man who tempts me as no one else ever has?
Grindstone’s Edge is a book in the multi-author Road to Rocktoberfest 2024 series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why not read them all and see what antics our bands get into next? Hot rockstars and the men who love them, what more could you ask for. Kick back, load up your e-reader and enjoy the men of Rocktoberfest!
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Seitenzahl: 371
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Grindstone's Edge
The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024
Gabbi Grey
Axel
Last year, my band, Grindstone, hit the stage at Rocktoberfest, our big break at last. But in the middle of that triumph, my love life crashed into disaster. I’ve been in love with Hugo Threadgold for years, but he was once my high school music teacher, so I figured he was off-limits. Then, in Black Rock, I discovered he was aware of me too, and for a moment I thought I'd get it all. I came clean about my feelings, but my heart cracked when Hugo turned and walked away. I'm not giving up, though. I'm ready to lose my straight-guy image for him, if only I can make him believe in us.
Hugo
Ten years ago, Axel and his best friend, Ed, were my most promising students. I taught them everything I could about music, and watched them struggle to become the musicians they are today. But boys become men, and last October in Nevada, Axel told me he'd developed romantic feelings for me. I was rattled. I'd never let myself look at him that way. Now that he's put the idea in my head, I can't get him out of my mind. The man he's become is someone strong, talented, determined, and attractive. Someone I could fall for. But isn't it my duty to keep things professional and walk away from the man who tempts me as no one else ever has?
Grindstone’s Edge is a book in the multi-author Road to Rocktoberfest 2024 series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why not read them all and see what antics our bands get into next? Hot rock stars and the men who love them, what more could you ask for. Kick back, load up your e-reader, and enjoy the men of Rocktoberfest!
Copyright©2024Gabbi Grey.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
References to real people, events, organizations, establishments or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
NO AI/NO BOT. We do not consent to any Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarize, or otherwise replicate any part of this creative work, via any means: print, graphic, sculpture, multimedia, audio, or other medium. We support the right of humans to control their artistic works.
No generative AI was used in the creation of this book.
Edits by ELF
Cover by Jo Clement
Dedication
William
Contents
Chapter One
Axel
Rocktoberfest.
2023.
“Axel.” A voice I’d never thought to hear again rang in my ears.
I had been flying as high as a kite, looking around the concert venue. A natural high, of course. After eight years of hard-won sobriety, the joy I was feeling came from pure, natural endorphins.
I’d dreamed of this for a long time now. I was lead singer for the Canadian band, Grindstone, and we were performing at our first Rocktoberfest.
And absolutely not our last.
I was going to make damned sure we got invited back to Black Rock again and again. This year, we were performing early on Friday night. In my mind, I envisioned a year when we were a headliner show—Saturday night or Sunday afternoon. I could dream big while keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground. Just in case I started to get a swelled head, my bandmate—and best friend—Ed, would put me in my place. Would remind me every member of the band—from our manager to our roadies and our bus driver—was just as important as I was. Lead singers could be replaced. Strong women keeping us in line and getting us contracts with big record labels couldn’t.
Which was the other hope for this show. Hopefully, our performance here would land us a contract with a big American record label. I just had to get through my interview this morning with an intrusive and very nosy documentary film producer, and then I could sit back and enjoy the rest of the week.
I spun to see the man I’d dreamt about so many nights of my life jogging over. He wore that smile I knew so well. The smile I held so dear. A smile I’d never thought to see again. I’d thought about that a lot, trying to let go of the regret only to have it boomerang back. I’d almost let it go, then it would come right back, slamming into my brain. “Uh, hey, Mr. Threadgold.” I managed a lame wave.
He stopped just short of where I stood.
Wow, either he’s shrunk or I’ve gotten much taller. Oh, wait. Growth spurt. Nineteen years old. Year after graduating.
“I think you can call me Hugo. We’re, uh, both older.”
True. He wasn’t my teacher anymore. I wasn’t his student. We no longer had that barrier between us. He looked older. Like life hadn’t been kind to him. Ten years is a long time. What was our age gap? Fourteen years? Since I just hit twenty-eight last month, that made him around forty-two. “Hugo.” I tried the name. The first two letters fell off my tongue in a whistle while the harsher final syllable caught my notice. Go. As in…should get out of there before I did something stupid. “Well, nice to see you…” I started to inch away.
He reached out a hand, nearly touched me, then pulled his hand back. “Sorry.”
You’re apologizing at the moment you almost touch me? After all these years? How often had I longed for that touch? In comfort. In support. And more. But teachers didn’t touch students, and Mr. Threadgold, with his strict adherence to rules, never laid so much as a finger on me. “It’s okay. We could, like, shake hands.” Belatedly, I stuck out my hand.
After a long moment, he grasped it. His solid grip had breath squeezing from my lungs. He held my gaze until he finally released my hand. He ran his hand through his overly shaggy hair. Those red locks had been much shorter back when I’d first met him. When he’d been still fairly new at the teaching thing. The bright morning sun lit a few threads of silver at his temple.
He said, “I’ve followed your career.”
“Yeah?” In a way, that warmed me. In another, it sort of irritated me. He could’ve said something before now. Let me know he was out there watching us. To what end? So he’d come for you?
“Yeah. You and Ed…you’ve really made something of yourselves, and I’m so damn proud of you.”
His words should’ve encouraged me. Should’ve activated something warm in my chest. Instead, a hollowness followed. “Well, that’s nice.”
He glanced around. “I’m here with friends. Do you…do you think we could catch up? There’s not much privacy…”
I was pretty certain there were places we could go…but that wasn’t the point. Even as I had the thought, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out.
Pauletta.
Reminding me of my interview. I was only supposed to be gone for a minute. “I, uh, have to go.” I held up my phone, even though the screen had darkened. Our manager wouldn’t have texted anyone else because none of them would’ve forgotten. I would’ve remembered too. If Hugo hadn’t distracted me.
You’re always distracted. That’s why it’s called attention deficit disorder.
Most of the time, I had coping mechanisms. Then something would derail me, and my bandmates would gently try to guide me back to the topic at hand.
“Right.” He glanced behind him. “My friends are kind of in their own world. I’d have time to spend with you. If you wanted, of course.”
My mind whirled. “Like, tomorrow afternoon? I have an interview for a documentary right now, a walk through the main stage tonight, and a group interview tomorrow morning, but then I’m free until rehearsal tomorrow night.”
“That’s…that’s great. Where should we meet?”
I tried to think of somewhere inconspicuous. Until I figured out what he wanted, I didn’t want Ed to know he was here. “Behind the hot dog stand? Say about two-thirty?”
I’d have to make sure I was finished with everything by then. Ed would switch with me if I needed to. He did so damn much to accommodate me—often without me even having to ask. Being best friends since we were in kindergarten cemented our relationship in a way that nothing else ever could have. Just two poor kids growing up in the rough Downtown Eastside of the richest city in Canada. What could possibly have gone wrong? Or maybe gone right.
“That’s perfect. I’ll be there.” Unbidden, he grabbed my hand again. “It’s great to see you. Until tomorrow afternoon.”
He held on just a beat too long.
Is he going to pull me in for a kiss?
Absurd notion.
And he didn’t. He released me, offered a little wave, and took off.
I didn’t look at his ass as he went.
Well, maybe just a little.
And I most certainly didn’t look at his back and muscular shoulders.
Just a peek.
He’d always been larger than life to me. Now…he wasn’t as big. Not as intimidating. I’d remembered him as chiseled and, in my mind, ripped. Perhaps that had just been my imagination, as he always wore long-sleeved shirts. Although he rolled them up in the summer, seeing as our ancient high school didn’t have air conditioning. I had a thing for forearms…
I jogged off in the direction of the tour bus.
Chapter Two
Hugo
Ihadn’tseenReneeor Copeland for hours. We’d driven down to Black Rock from Vancouver together in my SUV for Rocktoberfest. My best friend and her husband were good people. Really, when she started dating Cope, he’d become an unexpected best friend as well. He’d never resented Renee’s closeness to me.
Renee and I had attended teacher’s college at Simon Fraser University together. Then we’d started our teaching careers together at a failing school in an impoverished area of downtown Vancouver, bonding tighter over the challenges. We’d believed we could make a difference, but the lack of resources could grind anyone down. Renee lasted two years before she transferred to a high school in Shaunessy. Different problems for the mostly rich kids there. Certainly not the grinding poverty I saw daily.
I’d stuck it out.
Renee had stood by me during all those years.
Supported me.
Loved me.
Even through the disaster that was Gavin.
I shuddered.
And my thoughts looped back to my friends. They’d decided to drive to Reno in my SUV after we arrived, which was a long trip. We’d come early so we could secure a good spot for our tents. We’d opted for two small ones that fit perfectly under our canopy. I loved Renee, but her snoring was legendary. No medical intervention worked. She was otherwise healthy, so she was letting it ride.
Cope wore earplugs every night.
I planned to as well. Not just because of the proximity to my friend, but also the general noise of the entire environment. Not everyone went to bed well before midnight.
I wandered over to the main stage area and watched as technicians set everything up. I was familiar with sound equipment, of course, but this stuff was next level. I could never afford this for my kids. That thought brought a pang to my heart. Spending a chunk of my salary on instruments and gear the school desperately needed had been a point of contention between Gavin and me.
Well, no longer.
My mind flashed back to Axel as I watched a band wandering across the stage. I didn’t recognize anyone, but that wasn’t a complete surprise. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with everyone. I had my kids to focus on.
Axel.
Ed.
Ed’s hair was long dreadlocks these days while Axel’s was shorter. The styles suited them. Generally I preferred long hair. For a Black man, though, that could be a challenge. My Anglo-Saxon heritage gave me sun-hating white skin, pale blue eyes, and flaming red hair. In teacher’s college, and during my marriage, I’d kept my face smooth and my hair short. Manageable. Respectable. When I found myself divorced at age thirty-two, I rebelled. Grew my hair out. Stopped shaving.
As I scratched my chin, covered by my trim beard, I smiled a little. New flecks of gray appeared with increasing frequency, and I needed to consider whether to shave the damn thing off once and for all, or accept mortality and gray hairs.
My thoughts meandered back to the boys. To the men.
I’d spent a fair chunk of money securing them their first guitars. Acoustic in the ninth grade and electric the next year. Both boys worked part-time jobs, but much of that money went to support their families. Still, they saved enough to help pay for their guitars. They’d been exceptional students. In music, at least. Well, Ed did well in most classes. Axel struggled because of his attention issues. When he played, though, his focus was exceptional.
I turned and headed back to my camping area. A small gust of wind swept through, kicking up a bit of dust. In a previous iteration of my life, I might’ve cared about the grit. This Hugo Threadgold didn’t. What was a little dirt? A little too much sun? Way too many people? When I’d heard Grindstone was performing at Rocktoberfest, I’d convinced Renee we just had to come. And so we had.
Back at our campsite, I eyed my cooler. Knowing hydration was important, I grabbed a bottle of water. I had my refillable one nearby and needed to start using that for the sake of the planet. I plopped into my camp chair under our canopy, and considered everything. I’d planned to skulk around the festival grounds until I accidentally found Axel.
Check.
I would convince him to meet up with me later, when he had a moment.
Check.
Now I had more convincing to do. I didn’t like the idea of manipulating him, but a lot was riding on me coaxing into doing me this one little favor.
I snagged some crackers from our little pantry and a couple of slices of cheese. Hopefully when Axel said when we were meeting by the hot dog truck tomorrow, he meant we were getting hot dogs as well. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d indulged in a hot dog. I glanced down at my middle section. Not as defined as it had once been. Gavin insisted I maintain an almost unachievable level of fitness. Between those gym sessions, my teaching classes, and Gavin’s constant need to be out in society, I’d barely had time to breathe.
Ten years. Get over it.
Except I hadn’t. As Renee reminded me every time I showed up solo at an event. After my marriage crashed and burned, I’d not tried to resurrect the single life. My ex had, with all due speed, married someone far more suitable. Someone who enjoyed the constant glad-handing. Someone with a respectable job who didn’t spend his time in that part of Vancouver. Someone who didn’t love kids and yearn for his own.
As Gavin’s second marriage neared the ten-year mark, I could be vaguely happy he’d found someone more suitable while resenting the loss of my dreams. Sure, I could’ve tried again. But I hadn’t wanted that pain. I’d redoubled my effort with the kids at school as well as volunteered at the cancer ward of the sick kids’ hospital. Anything to fill my days and as many nights as I could. Anything to have excuses not to meet up with my family. The family who couldn’t believe I’d let Gavin get away. The family who also insisted I needed to teach at a prestigious academy in Point Grey. I’d won several teaching awards in the past ten years—they thought I should parlay that into a well-paying job in the outrageously expensive west end of the city.
A wave of fatigue hit me. I hadn’t slept well last night, and if I didn’t get Axel to agree tomorrow, then the rest of the trip wasn’t likely to be much better. This jittery feeling didn’t sit right. Renee, Copeland, and I had brought a two-four of beer, but the twenty-four cans had to last the entire weekend. I didn’t love beer, but didn’t figure I’d enjoy wine in this heat. Renee was a huge brew fan, much to my and Cope’s amusement, although she switched to alcohol-free every time she hoped she might be pregnant.
They’d been trying for several years, and after a couple of miscarriages, I’d stopped mentioning it. I had all my fingers crossed for a miracle, but also hoped maybe they’d consider adoption. They’d make such wonderful parents, and I saw foster kids in need all the time.
Of course, if I was going to have the kids I wanted, I needed to think about adoption too, even without a partner.
Age was catching up for me, much as it was for Renee. I didn’t want to attend my kid’s kindergarten graduation when I was in my sixties. If I didn’t get up off my ass, that might happen. Hell, even that was too optimistic. If nothing changed, there wouldn’t ever be kids.
I left the beer in the cooler. Axel was sober these days. Working hard at it, or so I’d heard. I could totally admit to following everything the band members did. And although I didn’t intend to get close enough to him so he might smell my breath right now, I didn’t want to chance it tomorrow. Just like I didn’t need any more of a buzz today. I considered pulling my acoustic out of my tent, but that felt like too much effort. I checked my phone.
Ah. I only had to kill a couple of hours because Renee and Copeland would eventually return. After setting an alarm, l laid a cool cloth over my eyes and settled for a nap.
Chapter Three
Axel
Hamsandwichesweremy favorite, but mine turned to lead in my stomach as I waited for my turn for Thornton to interview me.
Songbird, our keyboard player, requested the first spot, claiming she’d be more nervous if she waited. I wasn’t certain I believed her, but her little show of nerves earlier had me questioning my assumption she was cool about everything. We’d played biggish venues before—the Pacific National Exhibition in Vancouver, for one—but nothing like Black Rock. Nothing like Rocktoberfest.
She returned to the bus with a huge grin on her face, and she squeezed Big Mac’s shoulder as our bassist headed out.
Meg, the drummer, continued to doodle in her notebook.
Ed, our lead guitarist, scrolled on his phone, and I sat with mine idle in my hands.
I should’ve been composing or going back over our set for Friday night or any of a dozen other things. Instead, my mind kept circling back to Hugo and what he was doing here. Well, obviously here for the music…because who would just choose to spend their time in the desert where the sun was hot during the day and the night was chilly? Especially given he should’ve been teaching now. He must’ve taken a whole week off work if he was already here. Of course, I hadn’t asked him how he got here. Had he driven or flown?
Right, and that’s what’s really important?
Hmm. Maybe not. He was one of the first fans to arrive, though, as the show didn’t start for another day. Was he with someone? That asshole ex-husband of his? Yeah, I knew about the divorce. Fucker didn’t deserve a man like Hugo anyway. But I’d heard Hugo had been sad and that, in turn, made me feel sort of guilty over my glee at the dissolution of that union. Truly, that ex was a turd of the first order. I’d hated him the one and only time we’d met.
Big Mac returned from his interview, appearing slightly less queasy.
Meg smacked him on the arm as she headed toward the front of the bus. She nearly pranced as she made her way down the stairs.
“She’s nervous.” Big Mac pressed a hand to his belly. Then, after a moment, he went to the cupboard. He nabbed a large bag of malt-vinegar potato chips, ripped the bag open, and stuck his hand in, coming up with a mittful.
Only then did he look around. Clearly chagrinned, he offered the bag to Songbird.
With a smile, she declined.
Next, he presented it to Ed, who also declined. Ed’s tight smile said more than anything he might’ve uttered. He wasn’t onboard with this plan at all.
Finally, Big Mac offered me the bag. I snagged one chip, popped it into my mouth, then instantly regretted it as the tart taste hit my mouth. I loved salt and vinegar chips, but they didn’t go well with…nerves? Pursing my lips, I pushed out of my seat and headed to the fridge.
Big Mac dropped onto the bench seat and started nosing at Meg’s sketchpad.
Ed smacked his hand. “Don’t. Doesn’t matter how you feel about her. That’s her private journal, and you’re not entitled to look.” He turned his fiery gaze to me. “Don’t even think about grabbing a soda. You’ll burp on camera. Juice or, better yet, water.”
“Hey.” I didn’t like it when he bossed me around.
Especially when he was right.
I sighed dramatically and pulled an apple juice from the fridge. Before I could contemplate mixing the flavors of malt vinegar and apple juice, I popped the lid and downed half the bottle.
Okay…gross.
Big Mac laughed at my obvious wince.
I might’ve exaggerated it just for him.
Songbird rose, stretched, and pointed to the back.
We all waved, and she headed back to her bunk.
Meg trudged up the steps to the bus. “Axel, you’re next.”
I wanted to comment about the pep in her step that appeared missing, but I wasn’t certain I needed to know the reason. This was Meg. While Songbird might have some secrets, Meg always laid everything on the table. She took no prisoners. I hoped Thronton was too cool to have made a mess of talking about Meg’s Indigenous heritage, but something had her down. Probably not that. Didn’t make my nerves better.
Ed waved me toward the door. “Go.”
“Yeah.” So I wasn’t wasting the apple juice, I downed the rest of it. For good measure, I let out a beautiful belch.
Big Mac guffawed, Meg grinned, and Ed rolled his eyes.
Yep, all was right in the world.
I headed out into the brilliant sunshine, putting on my shades. I wouldn’t be able to wear them for the interview, I didn’t figure. Apparently, Mickey, the director of the documentary, had scouted out the perfect location for filming the discussion. They had a good eye, so I trusted them.
Thornton, I was less comfortable with.
Pauletta, our manager, swore the guy was on the up-and-up.
Ed warned all of us at every turn to be careful. Somewhere in between there, I figured the truth lay.
Pauletta greeted me as I stepped off the bus. “This won’t take too long. We’re hoping to do it in just a couple of takes.”
“Hopefully less.”
She snickered. “If you behave, focus, and give your best shot, then yes, we might be able to do it in less.”
I pressed a hand to my chest and offered a wounded expression. “When am I ever not well-behaved?”
Another snicker. “Don’t lay it on too thick, Axel. Just be yourself.”
Knowing what she meant also involved acknowledging I didn’t always take everything as seriously as maybe I should. Just… Ed and Pauletta took control of things. My job was to show up, sing my heart out, and go home. When I wasn’t singing, I was supposed to stay out of trouble.
We came to an area with a bit of shade.
Mickey greeted us first, sticking out their hand. Their red, curly hair blew in the soft breeze. “I know you know me, but I want to formally thank you for doing this. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“I wasn’t until you just said that.” I shook their hand, oddly touched by the formality.
Lydia, with her camera, and Kato, with his sound equipment, stood off to the side. He had a small mic attached to a power box.
Knowing this was for me, I headed his way. Within moments, he had me hooked up. When he gave me the thumbs-up, I pivoted to Thornton.
Ah, I saw why Ed was so taken with the man. Not just looks—although they played a big part. The man was downright edible. That wasn’t all Ed saw in him, though. In odd moments of silence, Thornton appeared…almost wounded. Like he had something deep inside him that caused him great pain. He might hide it from the rest of the world, but I spotted it.
Sometimes it took one wounded soul to recognize another.
Was that who Ed saw? Someone in pain? Someone in need of comfort?
“Are you ready?” Thornton’s smile lit his face, but didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah.”
He pointed to a little rocky area.
I grinned. “That’s not going to be comfortable.”
“We can—”
“No, I like it.” I met his gaze. “We’ll both be in a hurry to finish.”
He cocked his head. “You wanting to rush through this?”
“Nah.” I shrugged. “I just know you want to get to Ed. He’s the real catch for you.”
“You’re the lead singer.” Thornton gestured toward the rocks.
We sat next to each other, but cheating a bit toward the middle so it would look more like a natural conversation on camera.
“You’re the lead singer.” He repeated his comment, but clearly this time the camera was rolling.
Deftly, Kato stepped into range with his boom mic and Lydia had her camera trained on us.
“I am.” I continued grinning. “As the face of Grindstone, I have a lot of responsibility.” I used air quotes for face.
Thornton nodded slowly. “Responsibility. Yes, a lot of fans look up to you.”
“Well…I’m not the only one. Ed’s got a whole fan club, and I suspect that when we break out, Songbird, Big Mac, and Meg will have a million people knowing their names as well.”
“You’ve very confident.”
I swept my arms expansively to encompass everything I could see. “We’re here. At Rocktoberfest. And yes, we’re playing early on Friday night. Yes, we’re not a headlining band. But we’re here.” I had to make him understand. “I grew up…poor. Disadvantaged. In poverty. We struggled and—” I swallowed hard. “But I made it out of there. And yeah, the first couple of years beyond high school were rough.” I quickly glanced toward Pauletta, who stood very close to Mickey. “Then Ed and I met someone who believed in our talent. She straightened us out, and we’ve been on a steady climb ever since. Five albums, and frankly, the best is yet to come.”
Thornton smiled. “That’s a lot of work. You graduated, what, ten years ago?”
“Yeah.” My mind wandered to Mr. Threadgold on graduation day. The pride in those pale-blue eyes. The discomfort because of what I’d witnessed—whether his or mine, or both—I’d never been certain. “I try to forget about those days, but…if I hadn’t struggled, then I think this moment wouldn’t be as powerful as it is. Wouldn’t have as much meaning.”
“True. I feel an amount of gratitude for you from all your bandmates.”
I snickered. “You weren’t expecting that, were you? You thought we’d be a bunch of pampered musicians who expect everyone else to do the work.”
His eyes narrowed. Just a fraction. Probably not enough for the camera to pick up…but I did. “I attempt to not have any preconceived notions before I meet someone.”
“Sure. But you hear about things in the media or through the rumor mill. Whispers. We both know who the prima donnas are this weekend. The bands who will demand, expect, and possibly receive preferential treatment.” I puffed out my chest a bit. “That’s not me. If I ever get too big for my…” I struggled to remember the word my father used to use when he was putting me in my place. “…britches. Yeah, if I ever get an over-inflated ego, Pauletta will set me straight.”
“And Ed?” Thornton blinked. “Or the other members of the band?”
Nice slip. God, you’re head over heels for him.
“We’re a team.” I let the words sink in. “We take care of each other.” Like intervening when my life was careening out of control and getting me the help I needed.
“Any regrets? Anything you wish you’d done differently?”
Yeah. Kyesha.
“Sure. How much time do you have?” I offered a cheeky grin, gently pushing my first love to the back of my mind. I’d made mistakes before her and more than a few after her…and I could bullshit my way through this easy question.
Or so you hope.
Chapter Four
Hugo
He’ssogorgeous.With those tight pants, that sexy shirt, and that earring. The fucking earring.
I didn’t want to think of Axel as attractive. Back when he’d been my student, he’d been awkward. Confident, but also a little goofy. Never arrogant, though. Ed ensured Axel took our rehearsals seriously. A few of the one-on-one lessons, though, I’d let him share his sense of humor. He’d been a kid, after all. Saddled with too many responsibilities at home for someone so young.
I saw it all the time with my students—they were often responsible for younger siblings, for working to bring in money, or even for taking care of parents with substance-abuse problems. Axel never shared specifics, but I suspected he fell into some—or all—of those categories. Certainly the working part. He’d busted his ass to earn enough to buy the electric guitar, even at the huge discount I quoted him.
I could still remember that smile when he gave me the money, and I handed him the guitar. I told him I’d gotten a deal.
One of the few times I’d lied to a student.
In truth, I’d ponied up a good chunk of the money myself. Had for Ed as well, but he’d seen through my lie. And had never, to the best of my knowledge, told Axel.
As I stood behind the food truck, waiting impatiently, questions swirled in my mind. What would we talk about? Would we have anything besides East Vancouver and music in common? Had he understood how badly I’d wanted him to succeed? Would he be creeped out if I told him how closely I’d followed his career?
I didn’t have long to ponder those notions as he soon poked his head around the side. He waved.
After a fraction of a second, I waved back. This felt awkward as fuck—much as the handshake had.
“Are you hungry?” He grinned, white teeth gleaming.
“Yeah.” Better not tell him I’d pretty much skipped lunch and was feeling a little light-headed. At least I’d remembered to refill my reusable water bottle and had been drinking plenty.
“Do you like hot dogs? Or would you like something else? Ed’s gone vegetarian, and I’ve tried, but…” He shrugged. “Just not my jam.”
I grinned. “I am not a vegetarian. Nor do I have any food allergies.”
He grinned back. “Greek? I’m hankering for a lamb gyro.”
“Sounds brilliant.” Okay, not sounding too eager. Maybe I’ll make it through this after all. Because even though I’d always had the upper hand in our dynamic, I felt like his adult fame was subtly shifting the power. Like he had all the say in what was happening. And given how much he had going on this weekend and how few commitments I had, that sort of made sense.
But that small change was causing the world to feel off-kilter.
Or maybe it was the lack of solid food.
We moved to the Greek truck. Before I could ground myself, Axel handed me a gyro and a diet cola. Did he remember I drank diet cola or was he merely guessing? Still, I didn’t even have time to grab my wallet before he’d paid and he was beckoning me around to the back of the truck. He pointed to the shade, then dropped onto the dusty ground, a little billow of grit surrounding him.
When in Rome. I liked the idea of being out of the sun as well. This small slice of heaven came with lower temperatures and the tantalizing smell of fried onions and roasted meat. My stomach growled.
“Eat.” Axel pointed to my food. Then he cracked open his can of cola and took several long pulls. When he’d consumed what I judged to be half the can, he belched, looked vaguely chagrined, and again pointed to my food.
Obediently, I took a bite. The flavor hit my tongue in just the right way as the meat dribbled juice. I moaned.
Axel grinned. “You’re so easy to please.” He took a nibble of his food.
“Look, there’s something I want to—”
He pointed to my food. “First we eat, then we talk. I don’t want to be rude. Big Mac always talks with food in his mouth. It’s gross.”
I didn’t know Big Mac’s habits, of course. The slender man was on the short side and played bass like no one’s business, but I’d never met him. “Dude absolutely shreds.”
Axel cocked his head. “Okay, so you’ve followed the band. Eat now, talk later.” With that, he took a huge bite of his food. And after a few mouthfuls, had consumed the entire meal while I still took small bites and chewed carefully.
My stomach preferred a slower consumption of food.
After scrunching his food wrapper into a little ball, Axel took another long drink of soda. He let out a contented sigh as he leaned back against the truck. “That was amazing.”
“Mmm.” My mouth was full, of course, so that was the best I could manage.
“So, I want to apologize.”
“Hmm?” Damn not being able to speak.
He met my gaze. Ah, so this was always his plan. Little shit.
“I feel like I need to apologize. That last time we saw each other… Well, aside from graduation. I don’t know if you remember—”
“I remember.” I managed to swallow. “And you don’t—”
“Yeah, I really do.” He fingered the wrapping. “I lost my temper. Believe it or not, I don’t do that often.”
I did know that. In the four years I’d worked with him, he’d never lost his temper. Never shown any sign of anger, even at the dire circumstances he lived in. Never had a nasty word with Ed or any of the other kids. And I’d never heard of an incident since he’d started to be in the public eye more. If he felt rage, I’d assumed he kept it inside. I worried he might implode if it got to be too much—but also knew he never lost it. “Yeah.”
“But…” He winced. “That guy—”
“Gavin.”
“Yeah.”
“My husband.”
“Yeah.”
“Now my ex-husband.”
Another wince. “Yeah, that sucks.”
“You knew?” I eyed the last few bites. I need to eat that, but I’m not certain my stomach will allow it. “I mean, he’s pretty public, so I guess you might’ve pieced things together. But no one at the school knew I was gay—”
“Was gay?”
“Am gay.” I quickly clarified in case my words left any lingering doubt. Always had been and always would be. I could adore women, but I’d never be attracted to them. Never want them sexually. Not like men. Not like him. “People in my social circle knew. My parents knew, obviously.”
He laughed. Not an entirely pleasant sound. “Yeah, well we certainly weren’t part of your social circle. So I hadn’t known you were married to a dude.”
“Gavin and I divorced, and my family acted like I’d never been married. Although they were part of the same crowd as Gavin, that was never my scene. I disappeared, and no one in the snooty stratosphere asked any questions. Or if they did, my mother never said. And she loved to gossip. Had no problem telling me Gavin remarried pretty much the day after our divorce became final.”
Axel sucked in a sharp breath.
“I wish him well.” I poked an onion. “I didn’t then…but I do now.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“I’m not going to dispute that.”
He let go a long sigh. “I’m sorry I yelled. Just…I didn’t know you were gay. That was shock. Not a good shock or a bad shock…just a surprise I didn’t see coming. Then, on top of that, meeting your butthole husband. And the things he said—”
“I’m so sorry for that.” Acid churned in my gut, mixing with the food and threatening to bring it all back up.
“What are you apologizing for?” Axel furrowed his brow. “Like, you did nothing wrong.”
“Well…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Did you really hate me after that?”
“Hate you? What do you mean?”
“You were really angry at me.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, ‘coz I thought we were friends, and you didn’t even tell me you were gay. And maybe, as your student, I didn’t have the right to know. But Ed admitted to me he had feelings for both guy and girls. I worried he might like me in that way. He swore he didn’t, and I believed him. But it would’ve been nice to talk to someone who understood that I could like guys but just want Ed as a friend.”
Axel likes guys. I pushed that thought down to focus on the past. “You could’ve come to me.”
“I didn’t know you were gay.” He gazed out over the sea of tents—more being erected as time moved on. People wanting the best spots.
“Oh. I suppose…So you didn’t think that I was trying to…well…you know? I thought you were angry because you were uncomfortable around me.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Like you thought I was going to try something.” Like Gavin accused me of doing, even though I never had those thoughts.
“Hell no. Fuck, I’m sorry you thought that.”
“So you didn’t think I had been inappropriate at all?”
“Fuck no! Who was the motherfucker who said that to you? You were the best teacher. I never felt anything like that around you. Like I said, I didn’t even know you were gay. You were never inappropriate with any of your students. You were always so careful.”
“Oh. Good.” His words left me nearly speechless. Of course, Gavin had been the motherfucker. The man I’d loved, who’d undermined me in that nasty, painful way. The doubt had lingered all these years. Until now.
Chapter Five
Axel
Icouldn’tbelieveHugohad spent the past ten years worrying that I’d somehow thought he’d been coming on to me. The truth was as far from that as another galaxy. Slowly, I pushed up from the ground and dusted my hands off. I downed the rest of my cola and headed over to the garbage and recycling bins. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Hugo following me. To my dismay, he poured his soda onto the dusty ground and tossed the rest of his food into the compost container. “You could’ve finished that.”
He met my gaze. “I think I’ve had enough.” He rubbed his belly.
I winced. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that day up.”
“I’m…” He scratched his beard. The beard he hadn’t had ten years ago. His longer hair was new as well. “I probably should’ve found a way to get in touch before now.”
“You’ve been following my career?”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m the reason you’re here?”
“Well, the band.” He looked away.
A warning pinged in my mind. He wasn’t telling the truth. Correction—he wasn’t telling the entire truth.
I stepped away from the trash and toward a post.
Hugo followed.
We stood mere inches apart.
Because of the height difference, I needed to tip my face down.
He tipped his gaze up to meet mine.
I was so damn glad neither of us wore sunglasses. His rested on the top of his head while mine were tucked into the neck of my T-shirt. We’d need to put them back on soon but for the moment, in the brilliant sunshine, his blue eyes sparkled.
I touched his cheek.
He stepped back, pulling away from my caress. Putting distance between us.
I advanced. In my gut, I knew he wanted this. This was the reason he’d come. And this was the reason I’d pined over him for years and years. Even when I hadn’t known he was gay, I’d felt an attraction to him. And while Ed was sharing how he felt about boys, I’d never said anything. Knowing what my father’s reaction would be kept me firmly away from ever speaking about my curiosity. About the inappropriate attraction I felt toward my music teacher.
And about the dozens of men I’d met in the intervening ten years who I would’ve hit on…if not for my hangups about being gay. Ed might not be out publicly, but he did have guys he dated.
I had no men. Just a string of nice women whose company I enjoyed.
Hugo took another step back, and his back pressed against the food truck.
Having the advantage, I advanced again.
He held up his hands.
I grasped them, reveling in the strength, in the softness of the skin mixed with the calluses on his fingers from hours of playing guitar.
Hugo broke eye contact, ducking his head.
Waiting patiently wasn’t my strong suit, but I wanted to give him a chance to come to me.
He didn’t.
So I placed my index finger under his chin and tipped his face up toward me. I could get lost in those eyes. And hear me…there’s nothing wrong with this. Back then, of course. But not now.
Even as he held my gaze, he blinked rapidly.
Does he have something in his eyes? Is the sun too bright? I angled myself so I blocked out the sun. That didn’t ease the shimmering in his stunning eyes. Am I reading true desire or am I imposing my wishes on him? Ten years of yearning’s clouding my judgement.
Yet he didn’t pull back.
I grasped his cheeks, caressing them then cupping him under his jaw.
He still didn’t withdraw.
My grasp was gentle. If he wanted to escape, he certainly could.
But he didn’t.
“I think you came here for me,” I told him. “I’m going to kiss you. If I’m wrong, if you don’t want this, say no.”
His lips parted but he said nothing, his gaze fixed on mine.
