Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Bodyguard. I’m Brix.”
He shakes my hand. “Soren. Jay’s—”
“Husband,” I say. I didn’t recognize him until he said his name. I’ve seen photos of this guy, but he looks different in person somehow. More friendly and approachable than the photos of him in hockey gear. “I know who you are.”
He gives me a half-smile, understanding written all over his face. “Yeah.”
Jay and Harley finish their cowritten song, and as the screams and applause go on and on, I stick my head out a tiny bit and see a sea of pride flags waving in the audience.
It makes my breath catch in my throat, and emotion clogs my chest.
“You never get used to that reaction,” Soren says. “It happens every show with that song.”
“It’s a great song,” I admit.
Harley’s supposed to get off the stage now, but he doesn’t. Instead he asks to borrow Jay’s guitar.
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
Soren sighs. “Going rogue. He has a habit of doing that.”
The next thing I hear throughout the arena are the opening words to Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” and I break into laughter.
Soren eyes me suspiciously. “Bodyguard, huh?”
“It’s an inside joke.”
“Mmhmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
I wish I could say I keep cool about it, but I don’t. I can’t take my eyes off Harley as he performs the shit out of the song.
Every now and then, he glances over at me waiting in the wings.
“You know, a year ago I would’ve assumed Harley was singing this to piss me off,” Soren says. “But I don’t think it’s me he’s staring at right now.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not. He’s messing with me. It’s his favorite pastime.”
Soren leans in. “It’s Harley’s form of foreplay.”
As a form of foreplay, it would be damn good, but Soren is wrong. Harley and I agreed we wouldn’t go there again.
Still doesn’t stop me from smirking as Harley finally leaves the stage. “That one was just for me?”
“As a thank-you for putting up with my shit tonight. And yesterday.” He steps closer to me.
Soren coughs. “Hi, Harley.”
Harley blinks and flicks his gaze toward Soren. “Oh, hey, hockey player. See you at the after-party? I need to drag my bodyguard away for a moment.”
“Mmhmm, sure.”
As Harley leads me away, I glance back to see Soren mouth, “Good luck.”
I’m starting to think I might need it. I’ll need it to stay off Harley. Because I’m sure, if he even gives the slightest sign that he’s interested in a repeat, I won’t be able to say no.
Chapter Fifteen
Harley
I might act insane before a gig, but the high after performing makes all the neuroses worth it. It’s the first time Brix has seen me like that, though. I appreciate that he cares enough to worry, but I want to show him that I’m fine. Especially now that the performance is done.
Jamie hands me my survival necessities. I drink my water, sanitize my hands, and then down my packet of M&M’s, and this is all on the walk back to the dressing room.
I’d love nothing more than to leave, but part of this publicity train with the song is making it look like Jay and I are true friends, so we need to hang out a bit after the concert and be seen in public—with his husband, of course.
The song might be a queer anthem, but the label wants to make sure mainstream media paints Jay and me as some sort of bromance between gay guy and ally rather than jilted ex-lovers.
Everything in Hollywood is an illusion.
Everything.
I throw myself on the couch and take another gulp of water. The blood pumping through my veins is full of an excited energy that will take a while to come down from, but it’s easy to relax into my seat and just experience it. I let the high wash over me.
Jamie hovers by the door.
“Go finish watching the rest of the concert,” I say.
She lets out a little squee. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Should I be offended she’s a bigger fan of my ex than she is of me?” I’m joking … mostly.
Brix smiles at me. “I like this relaxed Harley better.”
“If you stay on when I go on my next tour, you’ll have to get used to the other Harley. He comes out before every show.”
Brix sits on the armchair and rests one big foot on the coffee table. “Question.”
“Yes, oh wise one? Is this going to be another lesson in perspective?”
“Nope. I just want to know when the last time you had actual fun onstage was?”
I gesture to the door. “Did you not see me out there? I was on fire. That’s the reason I do this.”
“That’s called adrenaline. Adrenaline can easily be confused with fun. Why do you think all the guys at Mike Bravo claim to have a fun job? Because we have so much adrenaline flowing through our veins, surviving becomes a thrill. But that’s all we’re doing out there. Surviving. And when you put it that way, it’s not fucking fun.”