Chapter 1
Jett
I don’t want my future to be changed by anyone other than me. But as soon as I open the door, I know it’s going to be.
Dylan Michaels. His name flashes up on my phone as I head inside the warehouse. I set an alarm for our meeting today, even though it’s not like I could ever forget about it. My band’s been talking about the best sound tech in the business whenever we get together these days.
We need him.
Every other member of Tailspin is here already. I figured I’d be the first to arrive at today’s practice session. I usually am.
“Jett. Where the hell have you been?” Zac stands up, grinning, but he doesn’t set his guitar down. We’re like twin brothers that way. I have my hands on my guitar every chance I get.
“What? I’m not late. I’m right on time.”
“You should be here early. We’re meeting with the sound tech today, remember? Dylan won’t have much time. We’re lucky he’s even going to stop by.”
Like any of us could forget that. Zac isn’t actually upset. Nothing ever really bothers him very much. He’s the most laid-back guy in the band.
Unlike Bailly, who’s sending me a special gift-wrapped death glare. He’s the most high-strung bassist I’ve ever worked with.
“Sooner we get this over with, the better.” Bailly plucks at a string and a loud, low note echoes throughout the big room.
I love being here in our practice space. I’d be happier if we could just play, but still. This is a big deal. Dylan’s the best sound guy around. If he agrees to work with us, we’ll definitely kill it on our next tour. And that’s the tour that’s really going to count.
“Dylan just texted me. He’s close by, he’ll be here in two minutes.”
I pull my favorite guitar out of its case. “Great. We can get this over with fast. Unless he’s a dick in person, we’re all board with him. Right, Bailly?”
He shoots me another glare. “Yeah. If we can afford him.”
“We’ll manage just fine,” Zac says. It’s a good thing he’s always ready to come between Bailly and I. I’m not up for his weird moods now. Never am, but especially not today. It’s exciting. If we get on the tour we want to be on, Tailspin will break out. Mega-success won’t just be in our reach. It’s practically guaranteed. Especially if we have Dylan along with us.
The warehouse door swings open and a sharp stream of sunlight pierces into the dark space. “Hey. You guys Tailspin?”
It’s impossible to make out anything about the figure who’s asking. “Dylan? Come on in.” Zac sheds his guitar to go and bring the guy inside.
Once my eyes readjust to the darkness again, I have to blink. Holy fuck. Zac is introducing Dylan around and all I can see is his lean, muscled body.
His deep blue eyes lock onto mine. “Jett. I’ve heard great things from you already. You’re a hell of a guitar player. One of the best I’ve heard in a long, long time.”
I set my guitar down so I can shake his hand. Coming from him, that’s an extremely high compliment. “Great to meet you.” I’m trying hard not to stare. “Thanks, man.”
Zac launches into a conversation with Dylan that I can’t focus on no matter how much I try. I have to get it together. I can’t be drooling over our sound tech. Potential sound tech. Whatever. Not him, or any man.
No matter how hot he is.
And Dylan is smoking hot. It’s not just his body. His wavy hair is so dark that it’s nearly black. His face is model-level handsome.
Fucking hell.
I mean, it’s not like it’s even an opinion. The guy’s hot. Anyone would say so, probably even Bailly. Who never acts like he finds anyone attractive. Ever. And it’s not just because I’m into men as well as women. Nothing to do with that. Dylan’s a fucking gorgeous man. Simple as that.
Not that it matters. I have a girlfriend and there’s no-one in the world I love more than her. I don’t do guys. Not anymore. Not since Shayla and I got together. And no-one knows about that part of me. It doesn’t make a difference. It’s in the past. And that’s where it’s staying.
Sometimes I miss having sex with men. Hell, a lot of the time. But Shayla is my whole world. She’s the one for me.
Doesn’t hurt to just enjoy the view though. I’m not even tempted. Most men are straight anyway, so it’s not an issue. Not that it would be, even if somehow Dylan isn’t. I’ve got the desire for man sex out of my system. I’ve never been tempted to get into any kind of relationship with a man, and I never will be.
But still. I can’t believe how much this guy’s throwing me for a loop. It’s like there’s sparks flying off him or something. It’s more than just the scorching heat that I can feel coming from him. It’s fucking electric. I glance around to the other guys, just in case it’s not just me.
Damn it. It is just me. They’re all acting totally normal. I have to make myself do the same.
No big deal. So Dylan’s hot. So maybe I would’ve made a move on him back when I was single. He’s nothing I can’t handle. I have no trouble brushing off the groupies that I attract even now when we play local clubs. Shayla’s who I want. This guy is just a reminder of the past. Of who I used to be. He’s not going to be any kind of disruption to my life.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with checking him out. He’s fucking crazy attractive and damn well-built.
No-one could deny that his body is smoking. It’s easy to see he knows it too, although he’s not coming off as an arrogant asshole. Thank fuck for that, because from everything I know about Dylan, he’s damn killer on the boards. Yes. That’s all he’s here for. To help shoot our band straight up into the stars if we get on this tour.
“Jett.” Zac’s trying to get my attention. I have no clue what they’ve been talking about so far. Jesus Christ. I have to get my head on straight.
Music. Tour. Sound guy.
Pull. It. Together.
It’s not that hard, Ryson.
I’m being as bad as the groupies who come to the front of the stage every night that we play, no matter where we are. I gave my head a shake and tune in.
“The Entangle tour. That’s a big deal. When will you find out if you’re in?” Dylan glances my way. Is it my imagination, or does he look me over just a little bit too long?
No. No way. Not possible.
I repeat it again in my head. Most men are not bi or gay.
Although there’s a lot more heteroflexibility out there than I first thought. I used to love taking full advantage of that fact.
“Any time now. By the end of the week at the latest.” Even Zac can’t help but show his excitement at Dylan being here. “So, what do you say? Ready to take us on?”
Dylan gives me a look that I think I recognize. No. No way. I have to be imagining it. I’d like to take him on. Just the two of us.
Damn it. Focus.
“It’ll work with my schedule. So, yeah. Let’s do it.”
“Great.” Zac sounds ecstatic. I should be too. Dylan’s not just an extremely high-level sound tech who has a great reputation about what he’s like to work with. It’s one of the best things to happen to Tailspin. Having him working with us is just what the band needs.
Dylan’s going to be coming out on tour with us. He’d be there the whole time.
That’ll be…interesting.
But hell. I’ll get used to it. No problem at all.
“So, since I came all the way out here. I want to see you guys play.” Dylan smiles. Right at me. What’s going on here?
“Of course.” Zac puts his arm around my shoulders like he has to encourage me. Which he’s not wrong about, since I’m rooted to the spot. I haven’t moved since Dylan got here. “Let’s run through the new record from the top.”
Zac is already in place behind his microphone. So’s everyone else. I grab for my guitar and sling the strap over my shoulder without so much as a glance in Dylan’s direction.
Besides the band, Dylan is the only one in the room. So it’s not much different from a normal rehearsal. I shouldn’t be so aware of him watching us.
Watching me.
Seth taps us in and I keep my head turned down to my strings as if I need to concentrate on what I’m doing.
As if.
I run through every single song on our newest record again and again, every single day. Whether we have a practice or not. As much as I can. There’s not much I’d rather be doing instead of playing guitar. Tailspin’s rehearsing pretty much every day now anyway. We all want to get on this tour. If we do, we’re going to be in the very best damn shape we’ve ever been in. This is a one-shot deal we have.
If we get it.
I shove that thought from my mind and take a glance at Dylan. Usually I love playing for a small group or even just one person. But it takes everything I have in me not to stare at him the entire time. So I turn the other direction and try to avoid looking at him for as long as I can. Which isn’t easy. I can only look down at my guitar for so long without it looking really weird and unnatural.
Dylan’s eyes are on me as we tear right into the next song. It’s heavy and rough, and he’s clearly into it. We’re going to be a great match.
Him and the band, I mean.
Not him and I.
Our gazes meet. Shit. Heat floods my cheeks. At least it’s dark enough in here that Dylan probably won’t notice.
But someone else sees. Zac comes up to me like he does when we’re on stage in public, in a way that he never will when we’re just in rehearsal. He’s singing right into my face.
I swallow hard, forcing a smile. There’s no way he can know what kind of effect Dylan’s having on me.
At least, there’d better not be.
No-one knows about my past. I’ve never even told Shayla, and she knows more about me than anyone else. No-one needs to know that I used to screw around with guys just as much as women. Not any of my bandmates. I’ve made a point of never picking up a guy after a show, no matter how easy it would’ve been.
And I’m sure as hell not going to let that part of my history come out now. Not now that I’m done with it all.
Zac moves back to the middle of our “stage” area. Guess he’s happy that I’m all good. I definitely don’t want to weird Dylan out, not in any way. He can still back out if he wants to. There’s no way I’m going to do anything to fuck up our chances with him.
We rip through five songs before Zac stops us. “What do you think, Dylan? Ready for more?”
That’s so unlike Zac. He does what he decides to do for our band, always. He’s never asked anyone about anything, especially not something trivial like how much longer we’re going to play.
Looks like Dylan being here is throwing him off too. So it’s not just me. Good.
“Great set, guys. I’ve got to get going, but I need to ask you about a couple of things first.”
“Sure, no problem.”
I set my guitar aside and go to the beaten-up 1950s fridge we always keep fully stocked. “Hey, Dylan. You want a beer?”
“Sure, man.” Dylan actually walks away from Zac, who’s been practically hanging on his words up until now, and heads over. He comes up so close behind me, I nearly bump him when I turn around with my hands full of icy, wet bottles. “This is a pretty cool setup you guys have here.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad.” It is pretty cool. We’ve made the space our own, that’s for sure.
I hand Dylan a beer, trying not to check him out at the same time. Our hands touch, and it’s as if a live wire’s been let loose.
Goddamnit.
To put some distance between him and I, I go around and hand out beers to the rest of the band. We stand around drinking for a couple minutes. Dylan sets his bottle down on one of the crates we use for tables and when he straightens up, his t-shirt pulls up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of what’s underneath it.
Fuck. His loose shirt isn’t doing him any favours. He’s got a tight six pack going on from what I can see. Could go up as far as an eight pack. Why’d I have to see that? His muscled calves are already too much to take. Plus now I’m aware of his strong arms in a way that I wasn’t before.
I make myself look away fast, chugging down about half my beer in one go. In spite of how fucking freezing it is, it does nothing to cool me down.
Dylan gets back into conversation with Zac. I’m listening, trying hard to concentrate on what they’re saying instead of wondering what Dylan would look like without his shirt on.
Or his shorts.
Oh yeah. That’s a great direction for my mind to go in. Just perfect. Fuck, his muscles are flexing enticingly even when he’s just gesturing around.
If we get this tour, being around him is going to be one strange mix of heaven and hell.
“Okay. All good. I’ll expect to hear from you by the end of the week. I’m sure you guys’ll get it. You’ve got the chops, that’s easy to see.” Dylan turns to me as he speaks, instead of Zac.
“Thanks, man.” I find myself staring down at his abdomen. Remembering what’s under his shirt.
And he catches me.
“You a fan?”
My pulse pounds. Huh? What the fuck did he just ask me?
Oh. Right.
“Yeah.” Yeah, I’m a brand new, big fan of his body. But thank fuck he thinks I was reading the band logo on his t-shirt. It’s a tour shirt from two years ago. “Yeah, I’m into Snapback. Did you work with them?”
“Sure did.”
“Cool.” I’m impressed. Shayla and I took a trip to Chicago to see them. I had no idea Dylan was on that tour. The sound was flawless. He truly is a magician on the boards.
Wonder what else he can do with those hands.
“You must have some killer stories then.” Zac sounds like a fan boy. I can’t blame him, he loves Snapback. Normally I’d mock the hell out of him for it, but he’s doing me a favour. Taking Dylan’s attention away from me.
Because I still can’t get my fucking mind off of Dylan’s body.
I can’t be thinking about it. Doesn’t exist. He’s just a guy. No different than Zac or Seth. I shouldn’t be letting my eyes drift so low down. I pull them back up fast before he catches me checking him out again.
“Great to meet you guys. I expect we’ll be working together soon enough.” Dylan shakes our hands. Dumbfounded, I stare at him. He’s lingering when he grips mine. Or is he?
Zac walks to the door with him. They shake hands one last time before Dylan turns to go. And there’s nothing I can do stop myself from watching him leave. I’ve got a square-on, perfect view of Dylan’s tightly-sculpted ass.
Christ.
The door falls closed behind him. Okay. He’s gone. Everything’s under control.
Except for Zac. He’s beside himself. Well, as much as he ever could be.
“We got him. We got Dylan Michaels. This is it. We’re going to make it now.”
“If we get on the tour too.” Bailly’s expression is cynical. Nothing different there. That’s one of the main things I don’t like about him. He’s lucky he’s good at what he does.
“We’re getting the tour.” I’m in no mood for his idiocy right now. “Unless they hate your ugly face, that is.”
He’s about to retort but Zac cuts him off. “We’ll get it. And you know that if we get on the tour, we’ll be part of the festival that Entangle’s set up this year too. No question. I gotta go, guys.”
“What?” Bailly’s mouth twists up even more. “Why? I thought we’d play for the rest of the afternoon. At least.”
Zac shakes his head. “I had to take over an extra shift at the restaurant. We’ll pick it up again tomorrow. Right, Jett? You can make it?”
“Yeah, of course.” I work nights, stocking shelves at a grocery store. I made sure to take a job that would never have any danger of me doing any afternoon or day shifts.
Zac takes off and the other guys get into talking. I’m grabbing for my guitar when a pair of arms circles around my waist from behind.
I nearly hit the roof. Who the fuck’s that? Spinning around, I just barely take in Shayla.
“Hi, you.” Her head’s tilting in a question. “Why so tense?”
“Hey.” I give her a kiss. “No reason. I mean, I’m not. You just caught me by surprise, is all. Aren’t you supposed to be at work still? It’s not that late, is it?”
“I should be at work. But they told me I could get off early, since it’s so quiet today.”
“Makes sense.”
“Hey!” Shayla swats at my arm. “There’s no reason our library should be dead.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just a really sunny day out. I’d think everyone would already have their books and be reading outside, ya know?”
Shayla breaks into her beautiful smile. “That has to be it.”
I hate that she’s worried about her job. And her future. She has a reason to be, and we both know it. But somehow I can always encourage her that things will be looking up, so I do. Every chance I get.
“I came to watch you rehearse. Where’s Zac?”
“He had to go to work.” Bailly joins us, bringing his usual scowl along with him. “So we’re done.”
She pulls a sympathetic face. “Aw. That sucks.” He gives her a look that sort of resembles approval. Somehow Shayla can make even Bailly lighten up a little. Sometimes I wonder how she does it, because he’s such a fucking grind to be around most of the time. If he weren’t such a great bassist, I’d consider leaving the band. We play well together. I don’t make an effort to hang out with him otherwise.
He wanders off and Shayla squeezes my arm. “How’d it go with the sound tech you were meeting today?”
“Great. Really great. He’s in if we want him. Which we absolutely do.”
“Oh, Jett. That’s so cool. He’s the best one, isn’t he?”
“Yup. It’s all falling into place. All except the final piece.” I snap the closures shut on my guitar case. “You want to get some dinner? I’m hungry now.”
“Sure. Where?”
My phone sounds before I can make a suggestion. “Hang on, it’s Zac. What’s up, man?”
He’s speaking so fast, I’m not sure what he’s telling me. “Say that again.”
“You heard me right, Jett. I gotta go. Tell everyone for me.”
Carefully I slide my phone back into my pocket. As if one wrong move’s going to change everything.
But everything’s already changed.
“We got it.”
Seth and Bailly barely glance over at me. “What are you talking about, Jett?”
“We got it.” I swallow hard against the dryness in my throat. “We’re on Entangle’s tour.”
I catch Shayla up, swinging her around. “We did it. We’re in.”
She laughs as I set her down. “I knew you’d make it.”
I love how she believes in me. I’m confident in our band. We’re damn good. But I can’t ever forget just how much competition there is out there.
But now it’s confirmed. We’re better than all the rest. Nearly every band in the country would kill for this chance.
And now, it belongs to Tailspin.
We did it.
Jesus fuck.
“So, you’ve got everything you need. The big tour. The new record coming out next week. The perfect sound tech. You’re going to hit it big, Jett. Tailspin’s going to hit it big.” The excitement in Shayla’s eyes comes through as she speaks. It’s exactly how I feel. Beyond excited. Overwhelmed.
And something else. In a corner of my mind, there’s something else. Something I shouldn’t feel.
A creeping dread.
Everything’s in place, sure. It’s all good to go. We’re going on tour with Entangle.
With Dylan right there with us.
I blink hard, trying to ignore the cascade of emotions pulsing through me. Dylan. The way I feel about him is a minor thing. No big deal. It’s not even a thing. It’s nothing. “Hang on, Shayla. I’m going to put this away. Then we’ll celebrate.”
Locking my guitar up in our instrument cage, I’m fighting the desire to shove my fist into the wall. I should be one thousand percent happy right about now. This is one hell of a thing.
But it won’t be easy.
There’s no way around it. We’re hitting the road, and we’re going out with Dylan. Dylan and his hot, muscled body.
That I won’t ever see. I can avoid him. It won’t matter. He won’t be a distraction. I won’t let him be one. And I know I won’t cheat.
Still.
Being with him, without Shayla around?
That’s going to be some kind of torment.