Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I have to go back. The certainty he’d searched for the last few day arrived on a surge of adrenaline. He didn’t have to let Brandt do this alone. He could—
Buzz. Another message, and this one he almost ignored, but he caught sight of Brandt’s icon.
Changed my vote. You need to do the timber song.
Shane’s throat tightened. Can’t. It’s not ready.
He wasn’t ready either. Couldn’t tell Brandt that. Couldn’t tell Brandt that he was about to walk away from all this either.
Fuck that noise. Brandt’s reply came so quickly Shane could almost hear the retort. It’s ready. I want to hear it again.
I’ll play it for you soon, he promised, figuring Brandt could find out exactly how soon—
“No, play it now.”
Shane whirled around to find Brandt standing feet away, wearing Jewel in the sling.
“What the—”
“Couldn’t miss your big show.”
“You came.” He licked his lips. Shane didn’t bother asking him how Brandt had gotten backstage. Brandt could charm his way anywhere on an ordinary day. Add in the adorableness of the baby wearing, and no one was turning him away.
“I did. And I want to see you do your best song.”
“Yeah,” he said faintly. “I know which one to do now.”
And he did. Because Brandt had come. For him. He’d seen the stacked odds and come anyway because of course he had. He had the sort of courage Shane could only dream of. Shane had been such a fool to not trust him more. But maybe he still had time to fix everything as long as he quit playing it so safe.
* * *
“Good. Go big or go home.” Brandt was dying to hug Shane, but he had a baby strapped to his front, and Shane had a guitar leaning up against one leg. He’d come this far and waited this long. He could wait a little longer, but damn was it good to see Shane in the flesh.
“I will.” Shane nodded sharply. He looked paler than he had a few days ago. Meanwhile, his dark hair had a shorter cut and his jaw was scruff-free. He smelled good too. Something new and vaguely sweet. Brandt wanted to crawl all over him, trying to find the source and tasting everything in between. But that would have to wait.
“Nice shirt.” He nodded at the blue Western-style shirt, which he hadn’t seen before. “All fancy for TV?”
“Something like that.” Shane’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Can’t believe you actually came.”
“Me too, honestly,” Brandt admitted. He’d wanted to. Intended to. But life had been complicated these past few days. And he hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d been leaning on Shane for help until he had to do a three-hour drive north to Portland with the baby on his own. Yet they were here now and that was what counted. “I wanted you to have a cheering section.”
Brandt lifted Jewel’s arm making her wave at Shane, and to his surprise, she lifted the other one.
“Look at that. Your kid sure is brilliant.” Shane laughed, but his eyes stayed warm, a tenderness there that was for Brandt alone. “And thank you, too.”
“Anytime.” Brandt held his gaze, trying to convey how far he’d go for Shane without needing to give voice to all the terrifying emotions ricocheting through him.
“Did Shelby come too?” Shane sighed like he was bracing himself for the answer.
“No. Can we talk about that later?” There were several conversations they needed to have, including more than one about Shelby, but Brandt wasn’t going to ruin Shane’s big moment with a lot of deep talk and big choices. “Filming starts soon, right?”
“Yeah. It does.” Shane glanced away, back down the empty hallway. “I was about to go scratch.”
Brandt blinked so hard he almost jostled the baby. “You were about to what?”
“Pull out—”
“I know what scratch means. Why would you leave this chance?”
“Because you need me.” Leaving his guitar against the wall, Shane stepped closer, rubbing Brandt’s biceps.
“I—” Brandt was going to deny it. Again. Because that was what he did. Even after his realizations while talking with Shelby, he still hated needing anyone. But he’d promised himself to be honest with Shane. And himself. “I do. But I want this opportunity for you too.”
“Why?” Still holding on to Brandt, Shane tilted his head.
“Because the world needs your music. Because you making your dream come true makes me happy.” He frowned because all that was rather trite and not precisely the reason either. “Because I’m falling for you—all of you, dreams and songs included. And it hurts, like physically aches to think of you not getting your shot.”
Shane’s whole face softened and his grasp on Brandt’s arm tightened. “I—”
“Mr. Travis! There you are.” A stern-faced young woman who was carrying a clipboard hurried down the hall toward them. “We’re about to start.”
Whatever Shane had been about to say could wait, as could the rest of what Brandt wanted to tell him. Stepping back, he motioned at Shane’s guitar. “Go out there and make us proud.”