Zayden's Temptation

Kota Quinn

Copyright © 2024 by Kota Quinn

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except for brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Art by: Covers By Jo

Beta Reader:

Editing by: JennReadsMMBooks.com

Contents

1. Carter

2. Zayden

3. Carter

4. Zayden

5. Zayden

6. Carter

7. Zayden

8. Carter

Epilogue: Carter

Chapter one

Carter

(Rocktoberfest 11 months ago.)

Oh, hell no. The reflection in the mirror taunts me. I look like a guy in his early forties going through a midlife crisis, for shit’s sake. Tugging on the hem of the band shirt, I try to read the logo. Do they make the script this hard to read on purpose? I eye the jagged letters, or at least I assume they’re letters, before finally giving up. Doesn’t matter. I probably wouldn’t even know the band name even if I could read it.

My thick and wavy brown hair is a hot mess on top of my head. Sure, at first glance, I appear younger, but look carefully and you can see the random gray strands threaded here and there.

This isn’t me.

I pull out my hair products so I can style this nest into something resembling my age—rather than a twenty-year-old punk who looks like he just rolled out of bed—when the bathroom door opens. My boyfriend, TJ, walks in. His red hair is tousled just so, and his outfit is similar to mine, only he looks comfortable in his clothes.

TJ gasps. “Oh my god. You look so fucking hot, babe. Damn, you need to dress like this every day.”

I frown at TJ in the mirror before glancing back at my reflection. The band shirt clings to my chest in such a way that actually makes me look muscular for once, and the skinny jeans hug my thick thighs, but something about the whole ensemble looks… off. “I don’t know, TJ. I don’t look like me.”

He smirks. “Right? You look even better.” TJ places an arm around my waist, and I stiffen in his hold. It’s been a while since TJ has given me one of his infamous backhanded compliments, and with it brings a slew of uncomfortable memories.

TJ and I have been dating on and off for the past five years. We’ve fallen into a routine of fighting and breaking up before one of us caves and contacts the other. The make-up sex that follows is usually fantastic. So are the first few weeks of us getting back together. But eventually, we start arguing before everything blows up again.

It’s toxic, I know. But somehow, he always convinces me he’s going to change.

This last time we got back together; TJ sat down with me and told me about his past. This was a first. I’ve been desperate to know him better, but he always kept me at arm’s length. He opened up to me about his insecurities, and even informed me of my own flaws he found frustrating.

One of his biggest complaints, though, was my career. I work for a huge marketing firm in Southern California and rarely have time for myself, let alone a partner. Not when I’ve been working so damn hard to climb up the corporate ladder.

My biggest complaint? I wanted a stable relationship with a loving partner. I didn’t want an open relationship. I wanted the stability of having someone to care for. I just wanted to spend more time together as a couple. It sounded like our wants were aligned.

This is my attempt at trying harder. Now that I feel secure in my job, I cut back on my hours and have made it a point to leave work at the same time every day—no matter what my workload looks like. We have dinner together every night and breakfast together before work. I even requested this vacation time and surprised TJ with sold-out tickets to Rocktoberfest just so he could see his favorite band, Arcade Lake.

“Come on, babe. We’re going to be late. We gotta get on the road so we can get there early enough to set up our tent.”

I freeze. “Tent?” What the hell?

TJ rolls his eyes. “Yeah. It’s not like we can stay in this shitty hotel all trip. We have at least a four-hour drive ahead of us.”

I wince. Fuck. This is what I get for not paying attention to our drive times. My boss called with an emergency with a client we can’t afford to lose. So, I used some of that drive time to work while TJ happily blasted his music as he drove. A part of me wishes we spent the time talking, but TJ hates to talk on trips. Something about boring conversations ruining the road trip ambiance.

“Plus,” he continues. “It’s not like we can crawl into one of the band’s tour vans. Unless…you want to be really adventurous?” He places his hand on my chest before sliding down to the bulge in my jeans. After a suggestive squeeze, he winks and walks back out of the room.

TJ might have been joking, but the comment burrows into my skin like a leech that won’t let go. I don’t share, ever. One of my closest friends is poly, and it works for them, but I’m a jealous guy. I want to be the only one spoiling my partner. I’ve always made sure my stance on that topic is very clear.

An unsettled, uncomfortable feeling churns in the pit of my stomach, but I try to shake it off. I won’t let one comment ruin our night.

The drive to Black Rock City isn’t as bad as I thought, but I’m shocked by the number of people setting up tents all around us.

The air is filled with laughter and chatter, and the sun’s blazing rays make it feel more like a sweltering hundred degrees than a mere eighty-five. Plumes of weed or cigarette smoke drift by every so often, and I’m suddenly kicking myself for not asking questions about where we’d sleep.

That uncomfortable feeling continues to grow inside of me. TJ knows I hate camping because of my issues with my back, but not once did he mention we’d be staying outside. If I’d known, I would have preferred to bring a cot. Still, I bite back my remark and finish setting up our tent. I’m determined to not fight on this trip.

At one point, a cute blond guy approaches TJ. “Hey,” he says with a sweet blush on his cheeks. The kid looks like he might be in college. He toes the line between looking sweet and sassy. Figuring the kid needed help with his tent or something, I continue to unpack while they chat.

“Are you TJ?”

A knowing smirk crosses TJ’s lips. “Well, now. Aren’t you gorgeous? And who are you?”

The blond’s blush deepens before he bites his lip. “It’s me, Kyler.”

TJ’s eyes drop and I don’t miss the sultry look my boyfriend gives Kyler. TJ places his hand on the small of Kyler’s back and guides him several feet away. I sigh. I always knew there was a chance I’d run into one of TJ’s hookups, but seeing him flirt right in front of me solidifies the strange feeling from earlier. I just hope he’ll let the kid down easy and tell him he’s off the market.

When I finally finish getting everything situated, I glance around, only to notice TJ and Kyler are nowhere in sight. My phone vibrates just as I pull it out. I’m expecting it to be a text from my boyfriend, but instead, it’s an instant messenger notification.

ZeeShredz: Help! I’m surrounded by a bunch of middle-aged moms who want to eat me alive.

My lips twitch as I fight a smile. Plopping myself on the air mattress in front of me, I message Zee back.

Carter32: Well, that’s just rude. Why did you even bring up their ages? Aren’t you middle-aged too?

ZeeShredz: *Gasp* You take that back! I’m thirty-six. Hardly over the hill.

ZeeShredz is one of my closest friends. But let’s ignore the tiny, insignificant fact that we’ve never actually met in person.

Yet.

We started chatting online a few years ago when my cousin started a GoFundMe Campaign to turn his manga, Chibicos, into an anime. The amount of attention and support my cousin got blew up fast, and Zee was one of his biggest supporters.

Zee donated a good chunk of change, explaining that not only was he a huge fan, but how his story touched Zee’s heart. Now that Zee was in a better place financially, he wanted to help another person the way someone helped him. Zee insisted on no real names and no strings attached.

To this day, my cousin and I have never met the man who helped launch his career, but in the process, I’ve gained a best friend. Our conversations started off focusing on Chibicos and eventually veered off course to music, hobbies, family drama, and life.

Carter32: You? Surrounded by women? Sounds like a normal day.

Zee might have been able to keep his name out of our conversations, but I still knew the guy. He works in the music industry and absolutely loves it. Sometimes, he has trouble sleeping, and when his mind is too busy, his favorite pastime is writing lyrics in his notebook. He has a love for classic rock, is quite comical, and is extremely smart. Zee also has a secret love for anime and manga. Hence how we met.

And of course, I can't forget that he’s a ladies’ man. He’s constantly telling me about the glamorous dates he has with movie stars and supermodels.

ZeeShredz: Haha. Not like this. The way some of these women are eyeing the musicians around us, it’s as if all they see are dollar signs. A few of them even admitted to hating rock music.

Carter32: Oh, your poor heart. How will you ever survive?

ZeeShredz: You tease me, but what if someone told you they didn’t like progressive metal?

I grin and shake my head.

Carter32: I’m pretty sure I don’t like progressive metal. Not if it’s all that screaming crap everyone listens to.

After a long pause, the three dots appear on my screen, showing me that Zee is typing. They disappear. They reappear. Disappear. Oh shit. I chuckle. I’ve rendered Zee speechless.

ZeeShredz: …

Barking out a laugh, I sit up on the mattress and message him back an angel emoji.

After a few minutes of silence, I get up and text TJ, asking where he is.

TJ: Ah, jeez. Sorry, babe. Thought I told you. Come meet us by the main stage. Rumor has it Arcade Lake might sneak in a performance somewhere today. Kyler and I are trying to find out any info.

Right, because I know where the main stage is.

Sighing, I pull up the map that was emailed to us with our tickets and try to zoom in. Finally, I give up and decide to just ask someone once I get closer to the music area. I make my way through the crowd with ease, but the longer I walk around, the denser the crowd gets. Today is the first day of the music festival and is supposedly the most laid-back. I can’t even imagine what it will be like by the time the headliners perform on Saturday night.

At one point, I end up by the merch area and ask one of the guys behind the table where the main stage is. He points in the opposite direction. With a bit of annoyance, I make my way through the crowd again. Whoever decided to plan an outdoor music festival in the middle of the desert is just plain cruel.

Carter: I’m by the music area. Which stage is the main stage?

TJ: God, babe. That was over thirty minutes ago. I thought you weren’t coming. We’re by the merch now.

I’m half tempted to throw my phone on the ground and stomp on it. Too pissed off and hurt, I don’t bother replying. Instead, I stand still for a moment, wondering if I should just head back to the tent. Am I overreacting? The point was to spend time with TJ, but he makes it really fucking difficult when he ditches me.

The sound of an electric guitar strumming fills the air as the crowd erupts in cheers. Several girls squeal and take off toward the stage, leaving a clear path to the food trucks up ahead. Empty benches and tables are scattered in various places and call to me like a beacon.

“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself. “I deserve a gyro.”

“That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”

Great. Someone is here to witness me talking to myself. Is it too late to blame it on the desert heat?

A guy in a loose white shirt stands next to me. The majority of his shirt is cut on the sides, showing off a well-sculpted body and a torso lined with tattoos. Unable to stop myself, my gaze travels the tall, lean length of his body, up to his perfectly styled, medium golden-brown hair, and back down to his plush lips that are curled into a sensual smirk.

I’m completely transfixed by his good looks. The man doesn’t scream rock star, no. He oozes rock god, with all those tats and the coal lining his striking brown eyes.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. What was that?” I have no idea what he even said to me.

He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that causes my toes to curl. “You know what?” He leans in close. “I don’t even remember.”

The guy’s obvious flirting, while flattering, is like a cold bucket of water. TJ is somewhere waiting for me. He might not have any issues flirting, but that’s not me. Just as his stomach growls loudly, I take a step back, putting some extra distance between us.

I offer him a small grin. “Right. I think it had something to do with food.”

“Ah, yes. I believe you said you deserve a gyro. Shall we?” He waves a hand toward the truck serving Greek food. “I gotta take advantage of the low crowds while I can.”

We make our way to the food truck. Instinctively, I hover my hand over the small of his back, but catch myself before making contact. “You go first. You need to eat.”

He arches a brow my way before stepping in front of me. There are only two people ahead of us in line. He tips his head back and points toward the stage. “Not a fan of Monifex?”

“Mony what? Is that the band?”

He chuckles again, giving me a charming smile. “Monifex. Newer band. Metalcore.”

I shake my head. “Fuck. How many subgenres of metal are there? Can you tell me what the hell progressive metal is?”

“Oh shit. You’re the second person today to not know what it means.” He laughs, but it’s to himself, almost as if he’s lost in thought. “It’s a fusion of metal and progressive rock. We tend to focus on heavy technical songs with complex guitar rifts. The genre is actually pretty broad because of the experimental themes.”

This time, I arch a brow. “We?” Of course, the guy is in a band.

He steps forward in line before turning back to me. His eyes briefly drop to my shirt. “My band. We consider ourselves a combination of Progressive Metalcore and Southern Metal.”

“Yeah, you might as well be speaking another language.”

His eyes drop to my shirt again, and he smirks.

I tug at the hem of the band shirt, feeling like a fraud. Something about the flirty yet warm demeanor of this guy has me confessing the truth. “Damn it. I feel so out of place here. I don’t really get the harder aggressive music. The only reason I’m here is to surprise my boyfriend with tickets to see his favorite band. I’m more of a classic rock type of guy. Give me Molly Hatchet or Billy Idol, please.”

To my shock, he doesn’t roll his eyes or look disgusted. His smile just grows wider. “Can’t go wrong with the classics.”

I nod, laughing softly. “Hell, I don’t even know what this shirt says. Metal script is so hard for me to read. It might as well say ‘worship the devil,’ for all I know.”

“See this letter here?” He traces a finger just above the jagged script. His nails are chipped with dark purple polish. He doesn’t touch me, but he might as well with the way my nipples pebble under his gaze.

With a pounding heart, I force myself to swallow.

“It’s an ‘A’, for Arcade Lake.” His striking brown eyes study me, that charming smirk still in place. We're so close that the gold and green flecks are visible in the sunlight.

“Next,” the man from the food truck calls out, startling us apart.

As soon as the rock star steps away and orders his food, I let out a deep breath. Of course, my shirt says Arcade Lake. TJ is obsessed with the band. Speaking of TJ, I check my phone, but don't see any missed text messages, so I call him instead.

Straight to voicemail. His phone was fully charged when we got out of the car, so I hope it’s just spotty service, and not TJ ignoring me.

I run a frustrated hand through my hair before checking my messenger app. Zee recommended a list of progressive metal bands I need to listen to. I’m tempted to show the rock star in front of me to see if he agrees with the list.

ZeeShredz: I'm taking your advice. I'm trying something new today.

Carter32: Holy shit, are you going to perform one of the songs you've written?

ZeeShredz: I'm working my way up to it. Gonna perform, but it’s nothing I’ve written. Still not sure anyone wants to hear my own crap.

I frown, typing furiously.

Carter32: DON'T say that. Your lyrics are brilliant and meaningful.

I glance up from my screen when it's my turn to order. The handsome rock star is typing away on his phone, a sweet smile on his face as he waits for his food. Probably talking with a lover or a significant other.

After I order my gyro, I stand off to the side and wait.

ZeeShredz: Thanks, Carter. You always know how to make me feel better.

A warmth spreads through my chest. Everything is so easy with Zee. Our relationship might only be online, but he lets me take care of him, and in return, it makes me feel appreciated. Important.

Carter32: I'm serious, Zee. Hopefully, someday I'll get to hear your music.

ZeeShredz: I'd like that. Maybe I can perform for you?

My heart pounds as I read and reread that text. Did he mean it? Anytime we even hinted at finally meeting up, one of us shied away. But now, I want to meet Zee.

Carter32: Of course. When?

ZeeShredz: I have a gig tonight, but I'm saving our song for a bigger crowd.

Our song. God, why did that sound romantic? Did he really write me a song?

ZeeShredz: Are you busy Saturday? I know it's short notice, but I can fly you and a friend out to see me perform.

Fly us out? Holy shit. Is Zee loaded? Fuck, of course he is. Just the other day, he returned from a trip to South Tavia. Not only are the islands a hot destination spot, it’s an expensive place, too. Zee mentioned that one of his brothers was struggling with anxiety and PTSD, so they needed to get away for a few weeks. Not days. Weeks. And let’s not forget that he donated a lot of money to my cousin’s campaign a few years back. Regardless, we never talked about finances. To me, he’s just Zee. Money was irrelevant.

Reality hits me when I hear another strum of guitars from a different stage. Fuck. TJ’s favorite band plays on Saturday.

Carter32: I’m so sorry. I can't. I'm out of town through Monday.

ZeeShredz: Oh.

Carter32: But don't let that stop you. Play the song on Saturday. Please. The world deserves to hear your words.

ZeeShredz: We’ll see.

Carter32: Please, Zee. Play our song. For me. On Saturday.

ZeeShredz: Fine. For you.

That makes me smile.

Carter32: And don’t forget to eat and hydrate before your performance. Good luck tonight.

I pocket my phone and walk back up to the window as they call out my order. The handsome man I was chatting with is standing a few feet away. He balls up his wrapper, already done with his gyro. Disappointment momentarily fills me.

Probably wise I don’t sit with the flirty rockstar. I pick an empty table and have a seat. Just as I’m lifting the gyro wrap to my lips, a shadow falls over me. I take a bite and glance up.

“Look, it was really nice chatting with you. See that tent over there?” He points to a blue tent back the way we came. “I’m performing in there in about fifteen minutes. It’s a private show.”

I finish chewing, take a sip from my soda, and then smile up at him. “That’s amazing. What do you play?”

His brown eyes sparkle, and he slides a bright pink wristband across the table. “Come watch me perform and find out.”

“Will I need earplugs from all the screaming?” I joke.

His grin grows wider, and he laughs. “No screaming. Promise. I hope to see you there.” And with that, he spins around and walks off.

I finish my food and check my phone one last time. No new messages. Curiosity gets the best of me and I check Instagram. I see TJ has a new story posted, so I click on it.

“Hey guys,” TJ says into the camera as he walks. “It’s day one of Rocktoberfest. There’s a huge rumor floating around that Arcade Lake might sneak onstage before their big headlining performance on Saturday. It’s been months since any of us have seen them perform together, and most fans are curious. Why have they been so secretive? If you have any details about today’s performance, message me or my new friend, Kyler.”

Kyler pops into the screen, and TJ throws an arm around him. They look happy. It might all be a show for the camera, but when was the last time TJ—or anyone else, for that matter—looked at me like that? My thoughts flicker to the handsome stranger.

At some point, I gotta face the facts. TJ and I don’t belong together.

Before I can chicken out, I send TJ a text.

Carter: I think we need to talk.

A minute later, my phone rings. I roll my eyes. Now he calls?

“Hello?” I say into the phone.

There’s an audible sigh. “We’re breaking up, aren't we?” He doesn’t sound surprised.

“Yeah. I think we are.” That feels strange to admit knowing he’s somewhere nearby.

“Is it because I took off with Kyler?”

“Not exactly. But I just saw your stories on Instagram. You looked happy. When was the last time you were happy with me?” Fuck, I can’t believe we are doing this over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Carter.”

I nod, noticing he didn’t answer the question. “Me too.”

“What about our tent?”

“Damn it, TJ. I’m not going to kick you out. We can still share a tent and enjoy watching your band together. We’re both adults.”

There’s a long pause before TJ whispers into the phone. “This might sound insensitive, but do you mind if I stay with Kyler? He’s really cute.”

My mouth drops open. But what’s even more shocking is that I’m not jealous. Fuck, why am I not jealous? “Sure,” I reply, still shocked I’m not more torn up about this.

“Damn it, that’s totally fucked up. Nevermind. I’ll be back tonight.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say quickly. “You know what? Have fun.” I try to pour as much sincerity into my tone.

“Can we still go see Arcade Lake together on Saturday? You got me the tickets, after all.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe I can finally see why you’re so damn obsessed with them.” I check the time on my phone. “I’m actually going to check out one of the musicians now. Maybe we can meet up for dinner?”

“All right. Talk to you soon. And Carter? Thanks.” TJ ends the call. What the hell was he thanking me for? Breaking up with him? Letting him be with Kyler? Not freaking out? God, that was weird, but that uncomfortable feeling I had earlier? It’s gone. I feel lighter. This breakup with TJ feels different from all the rest. We’ve never ended things without a big argument before, but I have a feeling this will be the final time.

I check my phone again and realize that the private show is going to start any minute. Throwing away my trash, I hustle over to the blue tent and flash the security guard my wristband.

A group of people of various ages gather around the small makeshift stage. The tent is small, and I’m left wondering whether the rock star is well-known. Maybe he couldn’t score one of the side stages? Then again, he did call it a private show.

Someone walks on stage and makes their way to the mic. It’s the handsome rock star, and he’s holding an acoustic guitar. Several people whisper, and there’s a strange buzz of excitement that seems to fill the tent as people hush around me.

The rock star glances around as if searching for someone. His gaze lands on me and he seems to light up, his cocky smirk being replaced by a genuine smile. I gasp, practically being knocked to my feet by that gaze. Fuck. If I thought he was gorgeous before, it’s nothing compared to this smile.

My returning grin takes over my face.

“Hey guys,” he says into the mic. “How’s everyone enjoying Rocktoberfest so far?” The crowd around me cheers.

As if his performing mask slides back in place, he looks around the room with a panty-dropping smile. “My name’s Zayden, and most of you know me as the lead guitarist from Arcade Lake.”

The crowd cheers louder, and some of them stomp their feet. Zayden’s eyes twinkle as they land on me, and my mouth falls open. “It seems as if some of my small rifts during sound check have grown in popularity, and well, I’m in front of you today wanting to show off my passion for music. How do you guys feel about me playing acoustic and singing some of our Arcade Lake songs?”

A loud whoop comes from the back.

Zayden points. “Ah, there he is. Emery, come up here.”

The crowd goes wild. I glance behind me and see a gorgeous Asian man weaving his way through the crowd. As soon as Emery is by Zayden’s side, the two embrace. “Emery here is the lead singer of Arcade Lake.” Zayden is still smiling at me, and I get the impression that everyone here knows exactly who Emery is, and Zayden did the intro for my benefit.

Emery saunters up to the mic. “Rocktoberfest,” he purrs. “We have a special treat for you today. Zayden and I decided to switch things up. Instead of vocals, I’m handing the lead to my boy, Zayden. Meanwhile, I’m gonna rock the fucking drums.”

People in the audience have already started recording, and murmurs of excitement go up all around us. I make a mental note to look up videos of what Zayden usually does in the band.

Emery walks to the middle of the stage and sits in front of the drums while Zayden strums his guitar strings.

Then, he starts singing.

Zayden’s voice is captivating; soft, emotional, and raw. The first song is one he sings with his eyes closed, telling us a tragic tale through haunting lyrics sung in his seductive, powerful timbre.

Our secrets are a heavy weight

Heavy on my heart

Heavy on my soul

Pulling us down into an ocean of lies

Stuck in the aftermath

Dreaming but never able to escape

Wanting to stay awake

Zayden's fourth song is a happier one, but no less powerful. It's a more upbeat number that causes the crowd gathered around us to start swaying, smiles on their faces as they sing along. I’m surprised when I recognize some of the lyrics, impressed they’re the same metal songs that TJ played in the car on the way here. But unlike earlier, I’m captivated by the words and Zayden’s voice. The longer he sings, the more entranced I become.

Zayden is all seductive smirks, charming winks, and pure talent as he makes love to the mic. He’s dangerous, addictive, and a little wild. Be still my heart. If I’m not careful, I could easily be his next prey. And fuck me, I’m tempted.

Emery stands and everyone starts chanting for more. Zayden chuckles into the mic. “Don’t worry, Rocktoberfest. We have time for one more. But first, give me a minute.” He hands the mic to Emery.

An intense and passionate energy emanates from the two musicians. Something feral and palpable.

“Our poor guitarist isn’t used to all this singing,” he chuckles again. “Let's give him a minute to sip some of his tea. In the meantime, tell me how much you’re loving Zayden’s voice.”

Another cheer goes up, and I clap wildly. The sound of his voice still echoes in my head and it feels like the music is vibrating in my veins. Is this what it’s like to get high off the music? I’ve never felt this way just listening to someone sing before. Then again, I’ve never been this close to someone as they performed. The tent is small and intimate, and I’m mere feet from the stage.

A sudden desperate yearning to hear Zayden sing something other than an Arcade Lake song overtakes me. Who wrote these lyrics? Did Zayden? Emery? Someone else from the band?

My thoughts briefly go to Zee. Does he get this type of passion from singing? Before I can stop myself, I pull out my phone and tap on my messenger app.

Carter32: You should sing our song today.

ZeeShredz: Yeah?

Carter32: Forget Saturday. Sing it today. Pretend I’m there in the crowd and show everyone what those lyrics mean to you.

Zayden walks back on stage. He studies the screen on his phone before taking another sip from his paper cup. Emery hands the mic back, and the two musicians whisper to each other for a moment. Emery nods and gives Zayden a brilliant smile.

Zayden jumps in place and shakes out his hands as if nervous.

With a deep breath, Zayden brings the mic back up to his lips. “How do you guys feel about a piece that’s near and dear to my heart?”

I clap and cheer with the crowd, just as eager for more as the rest of them.

“This song is something I wrote for a special someone.” He places the mic on the stand and adjusts it so he can sing while he sits on a stool. “This song is called Oceans Apart.”

Something niggles in the back of my mind when he says the title, but it’s quickly brushed away at the sound of his voice.

There’s something here between us

Secrets and whispers between each word

Can you feel it?

With each message, it’s like a confession,

And yet, you don’t pull away

Instead, our hearts still touch

Can you feel it?

Zayden’s eyes meet mine and he holds my stare as he strums his guitar. His brown gaze is intense, his sole focus is on me… almost as if he’s singing to me. A chill runs down my spine.

I almost chuckle at the thought. Isn’t that what good performers do, make you feel like they’re singing to you and you alone?

With each truth I reveal, it’s as if I’m pulling you closer to me.

Can you sense it?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We’ve never met, yet, somehow you know me

I freeze, heart pounding. Those lyrics. I know those lyrics. Zee sent them to me when he was in South Tavia. He said it felt like we were oceans apart and dreams away. For some reason, I thought he was just talking about the distance between us. But this is so much more.

He closes his eyes and pours himself into the rest of the song.

By sharing my confessions, I’m giving you a piece of me

The only piece of me

Can you see my heart?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We’ve never met, yet, somehow you know me

The world might think they own me

So desperate for my attention

Ironic, since all my attention is on you

I don’t know what you look like

Yet, I feel you

I don’t know what you sound like

Yet, I hear you

Oceans apart, dreams away

We’ve never met,

Yet, somehow I know you

My heart is still racing wildly in my chest. I’ve never felt more exposed, more vulnerable in my life.

Holy shit.

Zayden is Zee. My Zee.

As the crowd goes crazy around me, cheering and whistling, it’s all I can do not to collapse in shock. With wobbly legs, I rush out of the tent as quickly as possible. And as I flee, I don’t miss the confused look on Zayden’s face.

Chapter two

Zayden

I have this overwhelming urge to chase after the handsome man fleeing from the tent.

The moment my eyes landed on him, standing in the middle of the food area, looking lost, I was intrigued. While everyone was rushing off to go see Monifex on the main stage, the handsome stranger just stood there as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

A feeling I could definitely relate to.

We clicked effortlessly, and I found myself wanting to hold his attention. I liked the fact that he didn’t seem starstruck, despite wearing one of our band tees. I got the impression he was telling the truth when he said he couldn’t read the script. Dallas always designed our shirts so that only true fans could read the band’s name easily.

I wanted to ask for his name, but as soon as he mentioned having a boyfriend, I backed off a bit. I didn’t need that type of fucking drama this weekend. No names meant I could pretend he was whoever I wanted him to be.

“You fucking killed it, man.” Emery throws his arm around me, snapping me back to reality.

Dallas, our drummer, emerges from the crowd with a shit-eating grin. “Great show, Zayden.”

“Thanks, man.” I can tell he wants to say more, so I walk off the stage and into the staff-only area portion of the tent.

“Where the fuck were you earlier?” he whispers. “Your brother was freaking out!”

My thoughts wander back over to the handsome stranger with his dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. He’s at least five years older than me, maybe more, but his presence totally screams ‘Daddy vibes.’ Yeah, he’s exactly my type.

That electrifying buzz I get from performing vibrates in my veins. It doesn’t matter if I’m performing for a crowd of thousands or a small and intimate crowd. The pleasant buzz is one I love to chase. When Carter messaged me during the set, asking me to sing our song, that sense of excitement grew. I pushed aside my nerves and performed something that was solely mine to a crowd for the first time—ever.

When I opened my eyes and saw that stranger entranced by my performance, I focused all my passion toward him, pretending he was my best friend, that he was my Carter; the man I’ve gotten to know from behind a screen.

Dallas nudges me. “Did you hear me? Your brother was freaking out when he saw you were missing.”

“Sorry.” I scrub a hand through my hair. “I just needed a break. After a year with all those damn bodyguards and extra security I wanted some alone time. Can’t a guy just get something to eat?”

“Not when your brother thinks he saw our stalker earlier.”

I frown. “What the fuck? They caught the bastard. Oscar’s in jail. That fucker is going to be behind bars for a long time.”

Dallas squeezes my shoulder. “He knows,” he says in a hushed tone. “Mentally, Olly knows that, but his body has been reacting in fight-or-flight mode for so long.”

“What does that mean?” My shoulders tense, ready to defend my twin.

Emery appears by my other side. “I think Dallas is trying to say that his body hasn’t gotten the message yet, and sometimes our minds like to play tricks on us.”

The words sink in. “Are you saying that my brother might have PTSD?”

Fucking Oscar Mendez, or whatever his real name is. Worst fucking decision of my life. Oscar was a roadie who was hired by our label. He’d flirt with me and I’d flirt back with the man every once in a while. But fuck, I flirted with everyone. About a year ago, his flirtations started becoming a little… aggressive.

I might be bisexual and can appreciate all body types, but there’s something really sexy about a dominant man. Oscar knew that somehow and took advantage of that little tidbit. And one morning he seduced me. Timed it so my twin would walk in on us during the act. Turns out Oscar was secretly dating my brother.

I immediately kicked him out of our home and out of our lives. He was fired the same day. Only that didn’t stop the psycho from leaving us alone. At first, he tried apologizing to Olly, explaining that he confused the two of us, since we were identical. We ignored his calls, praying he’d just get bored and move on. When neither of us would forgive him, he resorted to creepy as fuck letters, threats, and stalking.

Oscar was obsessed with the whole band, but he loved targeting Olly and me. But especially Olly.

About a month ago, they caught Oscar. Somehow, the FBI had gotten involved. Oscar wasn’t his real name and apparently, we weren’t the first celebrities Oscar terrorized. When Olly and I found out what he did to some of his other victims, we were just so fucking thankful we weren’t hurt like some of the others.

“Where’s Olly? I need to see him.” My twin has always been the sense of reason, the glue that kept this band together. While the rest of us were off partying and flirting with anything that moved, Olly was working hard at keeping us in line and out of the media. Then, this stalker shit happened, and Olly hasn’t been handling it well.

As much as I wish I could go back to the time before either of us met Oscar, I’m better off focusing on protecting my brother. “Where is he?” I ask again.

“In our tour bus.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m in the back room of our bus with my arms around my twin. He trembles in my embrace, and I swallow back the angry tears. That bastard did this to my brother. Seeing him struggle, despite that asshole being locked up, is fucking bullshit.

“I’m sorry,” Olly whispers.

I pull out of his embrace, far enough so he can see the sincerity on my face. “This is not on you, Olly. This isn’t your fault.”

He nods, but I get the feeling he doesn’t actually agree with my words. “I’m just as much to blame as you are, then.”

Olly’s face, so similar to mine, scrunches with anger. “No. This isn’t your fault,” he snaps.

My lips twitch. Of course, he wants to reassure me, but can’t seem to do the same for himself. Reverting to acting how I know best, I grin. “Good, it sounds like we are in agreement, then. I knew one day you’d admit I was right. This isn’t on either of us.”

A small smile covers Olly’s face. “Asshole,” he jokes.

“Right, but you still love me. Now, let’s count our fucking blessings and try to heal.”

(June)

“Thanks again for setting this up, Noah.” Ella Gray smiles at my brother, Noah, as she pushes back her office chair and she stands. Ella is the CEO of Dee Rama magazine. Despite its name, this fashion magazine isn’t a tabloid. It’s just as well respected as Vogue, Vanity Fair, and GQ.

Ella is a stunning woman with sharp cheekbones and looks that could kill. She pulls her high ponytail over one shoulder, and my eyes follow the movement before dropping to her luscious curves wrapped in that tight-as-sin pencil skirt.

Olly nudges me with his elbow, and I shoot him a playful grin. “What?” I mouth.

My twin just rolls his eyes.

My gaze wanders back over to my little brother. Noah has been wanting to work for Dee Rama magazine ever since he was a young teen. Now that he’s all grown up with his fancy degree, it’s nice to see him working for a company he loves.

Ella smiles our way. “Zayden, Olly, it was a pleasure. Noah, have fun on your cruise.” She waves a finger between the three of us. “I’ll give you two some time to catch up with my favorite employee.”

I stand. “Nonsense, Ella,” I purr, laying on the charm. “I see my brothers all the time. Why don’t I take you out to lunch instead?”

Noah narrows his eyes on me and I give my head a little shake, silently looking at Olly. Noah must get the hint and starts talking to Olly while I convince Ella to eat with me. As we walk out of the conference room, Olly glances back over at me and I wink as I hover my hand over the small of Ella’s back.

I don’t actually plan on touching her, but I need my brother to think I’m back to my old, flirty ways. My therapist, who has been helping me in the aftermath of our stalker, believes that Olly needs some sense of normalcy. What’s more normal than me flirting with a beautiful woman the way I used to before meeting Oscar?

Ella leads the way and I spot Olly and Noah studying us through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Out of habit, I say something flirty to Ella, but for the life of me, I can’t tell you what I said.

Ella’s grin doesn’t falter. “I'm not sleeping with you,” she says easily, as if talking about how sunny it is outside.

I give her a flirty smirk and lean in close. To anyone else observing us, it might look like I’m whispering sweet nothings into her ear. “Good. Promise?” I ask in a similarly casual tone.

She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, there’s a story here.”

Does she know how hot she is? When she continues to laugh, several people in the office watch her with awe. She’s powerful, stunning, and definitely screams dominate in bed, but I feel absolutely nothing.

Silently, I glance her way before cocking my brow.

She arches her eyebrow in return. “Okay, Mr. Famous Rockstar, who supposedly sleeps with every attractive person out there, I'll bite.”

My lips twitch. Oh yeah, Ella Gray knows she's hot.

“So, why do you want me to promise I won't sleep with you?”

The old me would have hooked up with Ella in a heartbeat. Well, at least I would have tried. I get the feeling she meant it when she said she wasn’t sleeping with me. But fuck, that would have turned me on even more. I used to love a good challenge.

We enter the elevator as soon as the door opens, and I jab the lobby button before leaning against the railing. I let out a deep sigh and tip my head up to the ceiling. It’s like my body held onto all my stress, and now that the Dee Rama interview is over, it’s being released like a deflating balloon.

“Zayden, are you okay?” she asks, voice soft. Her fingers touch my hand lightly, before pulling away. Comforting yet still professional enough.

I sigh again. “I’m good. It’s just been a rough year.”

“It sounds like it.” She offers me a soft smile. “Let’s chat over lunch. Come on, I have the perfect place.”

She might be my little brother’s boss, but she’s still the very successful CEO of one of the most popular fashion magazines. Journalism is in her blood. I have several celebrity friends who work exclusively with Ella Gray because of her work ethic, but just in case, I text Noah.

Zayden: How trustworthy is Ella? If I accidentally tell her something or disclose something to her, will it end up in next month’s article?

Noah: She’s very trustworthy. The woman is like a steel vault.

Noah: Just make sure you are very clear that anything you say is off the record.

For a moment, my index finger hovers over my messenger app. The temptation to send Carter a message is strong.

The elevator door dings and slides open, startling me out of my thoughts. I shove my phone back into my pocket and follow Ella out of the building.

We pass the parking lot and I'm shocked when Ella walks further down the street in her high heels.

“We're not driving?” I ask, glancing around, half expecting the paparazzi to jump out of the bushes.

“No.” She grins. “It's just two buildings over. How do you feel about subs?”

My stomach growls and I laugh. “Yeah, I can go for a sandwich.”

“Good. We can take them to the park; it's the perfect place to enjoy them without anyone listening in.”

I arch a brow. When was the last time I ate at the park? Fuck, when was the last time people left me alone long enough to eat outside?

As if sensing my thoughts, Ella speaks up. “No need to worry about paparazzi here. Olivia Cove is known for its privacy. You aren't the biggest celebrity currently in our small town.”

I give her a grateful smile. “Noah told Olly and me the same thing. Sounds too good to be true.”

As soon as we are seated on a park bench with our freshly made sandwiches, Ella asks me again how I'm doing. “I mean, how are you really doing? The media has painted you as this easygoing playboy. All charm and smiles. But after everything you and your brother have been through, first with the back-to-back tours, the fame, and then the stalker, I can easily say the media has you pegged wrong.”

I nod, slowly chewing my first bite before answering. “That might have been me once. Hell, I wish it still was. But I always had my twin to keep me in line. To keep the band in line. Then this stalker bullshit happened.”

Letting out a heavy breath, I glance at Ella. “Is this off the record?”

“It is. You can trust me, Zayden. The only things that will touch my article will be the things we discussed during the interview. It's rare for me to set aside my CEO hat and write something, but when I do, I make sure each article is an important one. And Olly’s story is not something to splash all over a tabloid.”

“It really isn't.” I like that once Olly and I opened up to Ella, she understood that not only was it important to tell our story before someone else printed lies, but it’s also important for people, like Olly, who might deal with PTSD or anxiety, know that they can get help. That there are others—even celebrities—who are dealing with the demons life has to offer.

Noah reassured me that his boss would write the story the way we want it written. If we could have gotten away with never mentioning Oscar again, I’m sure we would have. Unfortunately, there have been several incidents where Olly was triggered. Once, he thought he saw Oscar in a crowd, another time at the store. The worst episode was last week, when we were performing in front of thousands, and Olly saw a man who looked so much like Oscar, even I did a double take. The next thing I knew, my brother was curled up in the fetal position. Photos and videos went viral and speculation on whether Olly was on drugs started to surface.

Olly doesn’t do drugs. Ever. And I couldn’t stand the media bad-mouthing him. In short, we reached out to Noah to find a trusted person to write our story. Someone who would report our truth before it got twisted.

“To answer your question, I’m fine. Just worried. Olly has always been the good twin. The serious one. While I’m the carefree, flirty brother. But now, with my brother struggling, I’ve been working hard to show everyone I’ve grown up. I’ve had some hard truths hit me this past year. For one, I can’t—and probably shouldn’t—always rely on my brother. Second, I want him to feel comfortable enough to come to me for once. It’s why I encouraged him to do the interview with you.”

Ella leans over and pats my hand. “Thank you for trusting me with your story, Zayden.”

I look her in the eye and pour as much sincerity as I can into my words. “It’s not just our story we’re trusting you with, Ella. This is my brother’s life.”

Olly and I might be the same age, but my brother deserves me to be there for him the way he was for me. If he needs a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on, I want to be there. If he needs a clutch to hold him up, then I'll sure as fuck hold him up. Whatever he needs.

We finish our sandwiches while we chat, and the more we get to know each other, the more I realize I like Ella. Besides Carter, it's been a long time since I've had a friend outside of my family or band. When I finish my last bite, I pull out my phone and tap on the messenger app. No new messages.

Ella crumples up her wrapper and leans forward on the bench. Like a pro shooting a free throw, she tosses it right into the trash bin that's several feet away.

“Nice shot!”

She laughs. Ella’s eyes drop to my phone and she waves a finger at it. “So, who’s got you checking that thing every few minutes?”

“What?” I blink up at her, shocked.

“On your phone. You keep opening that same app and checking the messages. Every time you see it’s blank, you frown.”

Damn journalist skills. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I give her a sheepish smile. “Off the record?”

“Off the record,” she agrees with a grin. “Now, freaking spill. Is it a girl? Or maybe a guy?”

“How—how did you know?”

She chuckles. “You have that hopeful puppy dog look my son gets when he's talking to his boyfriend.”

My mouth drops open in shock. Ella has a son who's old enough to have a boyfriend? I study the beautiful woman again. She looks like she's my age, in her late thirties. Maybe forty tops. I'm half tempted to ask her how old she is, but I'm a mother-fucking gentleman.

Ella barks out a laugh. “The look on your damn face. I just turned fifty. Victor, my son, is twenty-five. You can do the math.”

I blink. “Wow! You’ve gotta tell me your secret. I thought you were my age.”

“You really are a flirt.” She pushes my arm playfully. “Now, tell me all about this person who has you waiting by your phone like an eager puppy.”

Shaking my head at her words, I bite back a smile. Damn it. I can’t even deny it. I probably do look like an eager-as-fuck puppy. So, I tell her.

I tell her everything.

I tell Ella Gray, CEO and journalist of Dee Rama Magazine, all about my online mystery man. I tell her all about how Carter and I met, to how we became friends. I tell her how personal our conversations got, and how I've somehow kept my identity a secret—but despite that, Carter knows who I am in my heart. He’s my best friend.

The man I’ve fallen for.

Eventually, I tell her about the song I wrote for him and even confess that I sang it to a stranger at Rocktoberfest, pretending it was him. She immediately recognizes the song because, of course, it went viral that day. Even I could see the emotion pouring off of me in waves when I played back the videos. I meant every word. And somehow I know that song going viral has to be the reason Carter has pulled away from me over the last few months. We still talk, but it isn’t the same. He’s holding me at a distance. He knows. Somehow he has to know it’s me.

Carter told me to sing our song that weekend, and I did just that. I sang my heart out.

The entire time I’m talking to Ella, I take comfort in the fact I know she won't publish a word. All the while, another part of me secretly hopes she will, if it will bring my Carter back to me, but in real life.

Chapter three

Carter

(August)

“What the hell are we doing here?” I ask as I park my car in front of the big flashy building with the pounding music. “I thought you said we were going out for drinks?”

Kyler wiggles and bounces in the passenger seat with a wide smile. “Yes. Exactly. We can totally get drinks here.”

I roll my eyes. “You said you needed a drink and someone to talk to. We’re not going to be able to hear each other inside.” I point at the club.

“Oh, hush. I brought you here for a reason. They have a live show today. Several tribute bands are playing that grandpa rock you like so much.”

Kyler giggles when I narrow my eyes. “I'm not a grandpa,” we say in unison, Kyler’s voice mocking.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You're like a fucking leech. Why did I let you follow me here to Olivia Cove?”

“Because your good-for-nothing cheater of an ex kicked me out, and I had nowhere to go,” he quips back, not sounding bothered.

Apparently, last October, TJ invited Kyler to Rocktoberfest since they both had a love for Arcade Lake. Kyler had no idea that TJ and I were dating when he approached us. Kyler felt horrible when the truth finally surfaced.

“I'm sorry TJ cheated on you,” I reply, placing my hand on Kyler's wrist. I still couldn't believe that TJ insisted on moving in with Kyler shortly after returning from the music festival. Once Kyler was all happy and settled, it only took a few weeks before he found TJ on a secret date with someone else.

“Meh, who cares about that loser?” Kyler waves a hand in the air before pointing at me. “I'd do it all over again, just to have you in my life.”

I smile. “Okay, maybe you aren't a leech.”

“Damn straight. I'm your best friend.”

For a moment, an image of Zee… no, Zayden Black flickers across my mind, and I shake my head, dismissing the crazy idea of me being best friends with a world-famous rock star. Ever since that day I saw Zayden perform up on that stage, I haven’t been able to get him off my mind. The person who I once thought of as my best friend has blown out into a full-on crush. The idea of developing feelings for someone so… unattainable is ridiculous. I’m just a normal guy. And yet, when Zayden was up there in front of everyone, saying things like; ‘This song is something I wrote for a special someone,’ my traitorous heart took those words at face value, and started to fall.

I mentally snap out of it, pushing my thoughts away, thoughts that equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

Kyler rolls his eyes and unbuckles his seat belt at the same time he reaches for my phone in its holder. “Will you just message him already? You've been avoiding the poor guy.”

Sometimes I still regret telling Kyler about Zee. He doesn't know that Zee is Zayden, the famous guitarist of one of Kyler’s favorite bands, but he pretty much knows the rest, including my feelings for my online man.

I snatch my phone out of his fingers before he can do any damage and pull out my messenger app. “Stop saying that. I haven't been avoiding him; I've been busy with the move and starting up my new marketing business.”

“No, you've been avoiding the guy. And if you didn't want me to hit you with the truth, you shouldn't have told me all about your online lover.”

My lips twitch at his words. Fuck, Kyler moving with me to Olivia Cove has been one of the best decisions of my life. Despite the little blond's bratty ways, he seems to mean well. When I left Los Angeles, completely uprooting my life, I was in desperate need of a friend.

“Fine, fine. I’ll text him, okay?”

A triumphant smile crosses Kyler’s face, and he rolls his hand in a hurry-up motion.

Pulling up the messenger app, I notice that the last message was from him two days ago. Two days might not seem like a long time to some, but we used to talk daily. Constantly. Fuck. Guilt swirls in my stomach as I reread his text.

ZeeShredz: I miss chatting with you, Carter. I know you’re busy with your new startup, but message me when you can.

The same emotional turmoil fills my chest. Excitement that he misses me. Guilt that I’ve been so busy. Self-doubt. Would he even like me if he saw me in person? The tight feeling in my chest grows, and I unbuckle my seatbelt.

But also, how horrible of a person am I for leaving him on read with a message like that?

Carter32: Hey, Zee. Sorry about going MIA. I don’t recommend moving and starting a business at the same time. What are you up to tonight?

“There.” I flash Kyler my phone with a smirk. “Are you happy now?”

“Oh look, he’s typing back already!” Kyler bounces in his seat.

I jerk my phone back to my face and, sure enough, I notice the three little dots are moving, signaling that Zee is typing. My heart races with anticipation and excitement. See? This right here isn’t healthy. Despite enjoying our previous conversations pre-Rocktoberfest, Zee’s messages never gave me this thrill before. Texting Zee used to feel like a warm blanket in the middle of winter. Something comforting. Something I needed. Now? Now, his messages feel like a fine shot of expensive whiskey; exhilarating, risky, and intoxicating.

ZeeShredz: I’m going out with a friend.

ZeeShredz: We’re going to check out a few potential leads for a new rhythm guitarist.

A wave of irrational jealousy washes over me. The man is allowed to go out with a friend. It’s as if knowing I’m extremely attracted to the person behind the screen has completely messed with my head. I needed to get over my crush, or I’m going to end up losing one of the most important people in my life.

Carter32: That’s great. Kyler tricked me to going to a club. I guess I’m going dancing tonight.

Yeah, getting over my crush as soon as possible sounds like a good idea. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get in line.”

“Wait,” Kyler beams. “We’re actually going inside the club?”

I chuckle as I open the door and slide out of my car. “What? Was there actually a possibility that you’d let me say no?”

Kyler laughs. “Of course not, I just thought I’d have to drag you in there kicking and screaming.”

Any other time, I’m sure he’d be right. “I think I need to get over this crush. Maybe I need to find someone to hook up with.”

Kyler frowns at me. We make our way to the end of the line before he fully turns to face me. “That doesn’t sound like you. I can’t even remember you hooking up with someone since I met you.”

That’s because you’re practically in love with a rock star, says a tiny voice in my head. “Exactly. I need to get laid. I haven’t even had sex since before we met, and that was with—” My words trail off when I see Kyler’s eyes widen.

“Oh, you poor thing. TJ is a horrible lay.”

I bark out a laugh. Fuck, it’s true. “You’re such a brat.”

Kyler bows. “Why, thank you,” he says in a joking tone. “But seriously, do you think that’s a good idea? It sounds like you have deep feelings for Zee. Why don’t you tell him? See where that goes. We can just go inside, dance with a few guys, and leave it at that. Burn off all these excess emotions, then go home.”

I shake my head. “We’ll see.”

Bright colors and strobe lights flash as soon as we enter the club and make our way past the bar and onto the dance floor. The tribute band up on the stage is performing a fast song that thrums through my veins. Excitement courses through me as the music captivates me, causing my head to bob to the beat.

Kyler laughs next to me. “I knew you’d love this. Come on, Grandpa, let’s go dance.”

One of my favorite things about Olivia Cove is all the LGBTQ+ businesses. This club, for example, is queer-friendly. It’s so nice to see various genders flirting, dancing, and having a good time. Nobody here bats an eye at the same-sex couples. It’s freeing.

Raising my hands over my head, I join the dancers on the floor and move to the beat of the music. Some people are gyrating, others are bouncing around to the rhythm, while some just jump on their feet. Classic rock always pulls in a good mesh of people.

Kyler and I dance for what feels like hours, but I’m sure is only minutes. I get lost in the music and feel a smile on my face. I close my eyes and just let go, enjoying myself. This was a wonderful idea. I already feel most of the stress evaporating from my body.

The figure of a man up ahead catches my attention. From here, I can see he’s wearing a pair of tight leather pants that hug his ass. His shirt is cut on the sides, reminding me of the night I saw Zayden in person. I smile and close my eyes again, pretending the man I can’t stop thinking about is here at the club with me.

After a few minutes, the band plays the opening tune to one of my favorite Bruce Springsteen songs. Something about the lyrics really hits me hard. The next thing I know, I feel someone dancing against me from behind. My eyes snap open and I see Kyler dancing with someone a few feet away.

I don’t know who the person is behind me, but the fantasy of me dancing with Zayden is too strong to resist, so I don’t turn around and face the stranger, instead I lean back, pressing my back against the guy’s front. The thick bulge in his pants pushes against me. When I lean back, he wraps his strong arms around my stomach and chest in a possessive hold.

It’s a wonderful feeling to be wanted by someone. I chuckle when I hear the lyrics of the song and realize I'm dancing with this stranger in the dark. The guy pulls away and I turn in time to see him turn his back on me, hands up in the air, still dancing.

As the music envelops us, I press the front of my body against his back and we dance to the rhythm. I place my hands on his hips. Despite all the toned muscles, he’s tiny in my hands. I have a sudden desire to turn him around so I can get a good look at his face.

The stranger continues to grind against me, and I wrap a possessive arm around his chest, trapping him in place. “Is this okay?” I say into his ear so he can hear me over the classic rock. He shudders and nods, placing his hand over mine. Slowly, he glides my hand up his chest, then higher, up to his neck, where he wraps my fingers around his throat.

Holy shit.

Something about the move is so fucking hot that I squeeze. Not enough to cut off his air, just enough to make it feel like a claiming hold.

His heartbeat races under my fingertips and my cock is so hard against his ass, I almost feel like I could come, just from this. Just from dancing with a stranger in the dark.

Lost in the feel of him, I close my eyes again, just letting the music and this sexy stranger take me under its seductive pull. The stranger spins in my arms. Now, I can tell we are face to face, but I’m almost afraid of opening my eyes and popping this imaginary bubble.

Our bodies pressed together, still grinding. His thigh slides against my groin, creating a hot sensation that causes me to moan.

“What’s your name, handsome?”

God, that voice. A shiver races down my spine as his breath caresses the shell of my ear. Finally, I open my eyes, wanting to see who’s flirting with me. The air is sucked from my lungs when I’m met with a stunning pair of familiar brown orbs.

My lips part, and I stumble back a step. The stranger is standing there with that smirk I’ve become obsessed with. A face I’ve studied through millions of online photos and magazine covers over the last several months. Zee.

Zayden.

Fuck. Or maybe it’s his identical twin, Olly. My eyes search his face, desperate for any clues on whether this is the man who has occupied my thoughts over the last several years, or if this is that man’s brother.

Either way, my body is completely on board, despite the mini freak-out I’m currently having. And this gorgeous man called me handsome.

The stranger smirks as if I’m a sure thing, and for some reason, that rubs me wrong. Is he even attracted to me? Or am I just the first available guy he’s seen?

Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you? I chastise myself. I came here to hook up. And now, the most attractive man I’ve ever laid eyes on, shows some interest, and I’m questioning it? I bat those thoughts away. Of course I’m questioning it. My feelings are for Zayden, and if this is Olly, then he isn’t the one for me.

I shake my head at him. “Why don’t you tell me your name first?” I shout over the music. I need to be sure.

“Oh sweetheart, you know my name.”

Disappointment fills my chest, and the flirty remark pisses me off even more. This isn’t Olly standing in front of me with that cocky smile. It’s Zayden. And, of course, he wouldn't recognize me as his online friend.

Why would he?

Before he can say another word, I spin on my heel and take off toward the bar. I didn’t plan on drinking tonight, but I need a damn shot. This isn’t happening. I have to be dreaming. I’m back at my apartment, passed out after a long day of work. Because there’s no way that Zayden Black, famous rock star, is here dancing with me, of all people, in a club in the middle of small town Olivia Cove.

Pushing my way through the dense crowd, I finally make it to the bar, where I quickly grab the bartender’s attention and order a shot. I down it in one go.

“Hey!” Zayden calls out somewhere behind me.

I dive back into the crowd and navigate my way to the back door, past security, and outside, onto the patio.

“Hey, wait up!”

The door swings closed behind me, muffling the music. A few people are chatting outside while sipping on their beers. Lanterns are scattered around, illuminating the area as the sound of waves crash in the distance.

“Hey,” Zayden pants, walking to my side. He puts his hands up in the surrender motion. “I’m so sorry. It’s me. I thought you’d recognize me from Rocktoberfest. We met in October?” He poses the last statement more like a question, as if unsure of my reaction.

I nod slowly, realizing I probably look like a crazy person. The thought of the man I’m falling for flirting with me as if I’m no one special fucked with my head. According to all the articles I've read, Zayden is a playboy. A big flirt that loves to party with supermodels. I don’t want to be another nameless person for him to add to his list.

He steps closer, giving me a better look at his face. Zayden's beautiful brown eyes sparkle in the light.

I clear my throat. “Zay—Zayden. Of course. Sorry about that,” I say lamely, not bothering to explain.

His shoulders relax when I say his name. He gives me a wide, carefree smile. “Is this going to be a common occurrence?” His tone is playful. Not flirty, exactly, but light. Suddenly, it feels like I’m finally looking at my Zee, not the playboy flirt and charmer, but the sweet cinnamon roll behind the screen.

All my hesitation melts away. I can’t help but smile back. “Is what a common occurrence?”

He grins. “You running away from me? I feel like you’re Cinderella, always fleeing away from the ball.”

It’s such a Zee thing to say that I chuckle. “Does that make you my Prince Charming?” I banter back, then realize what I said. My face heats, and I suddenly want the ground to swallow me whole. Prince Charming? God, could I sound any more pathetic?

Zayden only chuckles in response. “Come on,” he says, slowly reaching for my hand. “Let’s grab a seat and chat.”

My breath catches. I should pull away, make up some excuse and leave, but he gives me another heartwarming smile that looks more excited than flirty.

Is Zayden Black excited to spend time with me?

Maybe it’s the shot that's finally kicking in, and settling my nerves. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Zee. But instead of leaving, I lace my fingers with his and follow him to an empty table.

Chapter four

Zayden

There’s no fucking way I could be this lucky. Of all the small towns in the world, and I walk into the same one that happens to have my mysterious stranger? When I saw him on the dance floor I thought I was hallucinating. All the stress from the week has caught up with me and has caused me to become delusional.

To say this week has been a stressful one is an understatement. Leslie Thomas, our band manager and all around asshole, has been hounding the band, asking for Olly’s whereabouts. There’s no way in hell any of us are giving up his location.

For the first time in years my brother is happy.

After Olly’s last episode where the paparazzi took photos of him having a panic attack, he decided to finally get some help. I’m so fucking proud of him. Telling our story was only part of it. Olly found a therapist in Northern California who specializes in PTSD. Deciding to spend some time with our Aunt Tessy in Foggy Basin, Olly has been able to focus on himself, and in the process has met someone he’s starting to fall for.

Leslie doesn’t need to know where my brother is. He isn’t violating his contract. We finished up our Spring tour, only canceled a few shows from the Fall tour, and the rest of the band is working on our next album. Not to mention, Olly is currently staying out of any negative media. As far as Leslie is concerned we are doing our damn job.

Taking a deep breath and shrugging off thoughts of Leslie, I continue to walk across the patio to an empty table in the back. It’s tucked in the corner and away from others. The sound of the crashing waves is louder here, and for some reason it settles my nerves.

Cater lets go of my hand first, and I already miss his warmth. I slide into my seat first, and the handsome man slides into his across from me. We’re silent for a moment, just staring at each other. He’s breathtaking, and looks more comfortable in his dark jeans and button up shirt than he did in our band tee. His hair is styled into a trendy comb over rather than that faux bedhead look I saw him in all those months ago.

Like this, he looks like a hot businessman that screams dominance. I almost didn’t recognize him, but once I did, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.

After another awkward moment, he finally breaks the silence. “What are you doing here?”

My lips twitch. “Well,” I wave my hand in his direction. “Trying to chat with a handsome man. What are you doing here?”

“No, I meant what are you doing here in this small beach town, and in this club.”

I’m half tempted to flirt and tease him some more, but I get the impression he’ll just bolt again. “My little brother lives in this town. So does my best friend,” I admit.

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my hand, stopping him. “I answered one of your questions. Now, answer mine. What’s your name?” And why are you withholding it from me?

The handsome stranger chews on his bottom lip. I’m tempted to lean across the table and tug it free before he abuses the poor thing.

“Okay.” He lets out a deep breath. “There’s something I need to confess. But first, I think I need a drink.”

I narrow my eyes. What on earth does he possibly have to confess. Have we slept together before? I study his sharp jaw, and striking eyes. No. I’d never forget a man like this. “Alright,” I say slowly. “I’ll grab us some drinks. You’ll stay here, right? I won’t come back to find a glass slipper, now. Will I?”

He bursts into laughter, the corners of his eyes forming these sexy creases. He looks even more attractive when he smiles.

“I’ll wait.”

I narrow my eyes playfully.

He laughs again. “I promise.” He places a hand over his heart. The light hearted attitude paired with that smile has butterflies forming in my stomach. For some reason, I get the impression that I’m in so much trouble with this handsome stranger.

“Want a beer? Or do you think you need something harder? Maybe a shot?”

“A beer sounds great.”

By the time I make it back to our table, beers in hand, my handsome stranger looks nervous. He rubs his hands on his pants. I slide back into my seat and hand him the beer. He casually brings it up to his lips, but I don’t miss the tremble.

“Did I say something to make you uncomfortable?” I blurt. For the life of me I can’t imagine why he’d be having this reaction. This type of reaction isn’t one usually shared between strangers.

He chuckles nervously. “Actually, yeah. There is something you said that made me nervous back in October.”

My mind races. What could I have possibly said? He was happy when we were chatting, and he seemed to love my performance. Hell, the last thing I remembered before his eyes grew wide in shock was me singing—

“It wasn’t what you said, but what you sang. ‘Oceans apart and dreams away. We’ve never met, yet, somehow you know me.’ Those are the exact words that made me nervous.”

My mouth falls open on a gasp, and the sound of my heart pounding echoes wildly in my chest. I jerk forward in my seat, almost knocking over my beer in the process. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

There’s no fucking way. “What’s your name?” I whisper.

“Oh sweetheart, you know my name.” He parrots my words back to me with a shy smile.

I just blink in shock. My heart is still pounding wildly. Fuck, I feel like I’m getting light headed. I study the man in front of me carefully. I take in his beautiful blue eyes, the dark brown hair that’s so dark it’s almost black. I notice the gray strands that make me think he’ll be a sexy-as-fuck silver fox in ten to fifteen years.

He’s even more handsome than I could have hoped for.

He takes my silence as a negative thing and stands. I immediately jump to my feet, still too stunned to speak. I try to but I’m speechless.

His face turns a bright red. “I’m so sorry. This was so stupid. I’ll leave you—”

No. He can’t leave not again. Without thinking, I throw my arms around his shoulders and neck, hugging him close to me. We are about the same height, but he’s wider, broader, and his soft stomach is warm against my abs.

“Carter?” I whisper in a tone so soft, I’m afraid his name will be carried away on the wind.

His strong arms slide around me, and he pulls me tighter against his body. Carter nods. “Yeah, Zee. It’s me.”

I think I’m still in shock, because the hug last longer than appropriate. Carter sighs in relief and nuzzles against my neck. His stubble scrapes against my throat and I have to bite back a moan. Images of us grinding on the dance floor enters my mind and suddenly I’m hard again. Luckily Carter pulls away before I can embarrass myself.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Oh god, do I sound whiny? I just got Carter back in my life. I don’t want him to run. Not again. I want to spend the night seeing if we are as compatible in person as we are online. My stupid, foolish heart already says that we are, but I’m greedy for his attention.

“I’ll stay if you want me to.” He smiles and caresses my jaw. My heart flutters. That’s definitely more than a friendly gesture. Is it possible that Carter has developed feelings for me over the last several years too?

“Of course I want you to stay.” I tug on his hand and lead him back to the table. He slides back into his seat, and I slide right in next to him, rather than my original spot. He arches a brow—and damn, why is that so sexy?

“So you can’t pull your whole Cinderella act and runaway on me.” I want to ask him why he did it, but it might be too heavy too soon.

“You never answered my other question. Why are you here at the club?”

“Beckett, our bass player got a lead that one of the tribute bands has an amazing rhythm guitarist. Someone worth considering.”

Carter’s eyes widen. “So, Olly’s quitting?”

A blow out a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. No one but the band knows. Not even Leslie.”

“Leslie? Isn’t that your manager that’s giving you a hard time?”

“Yup. The one and only.” Warmth spreads through my chest. Looks like he remembers little details about my life as well.

“Manager. Huh. That makes so much more sense. Especially now that I know you’re in a band.”

I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “I want you to know that everything we’ve talked about through emails or messenger were one hundred percent sincere. I’ve only been vague to protect my brother and bandmates.” My eyes widen. “I mean, of course I trust you. Always have, I just meant—”

Carter places a finger over my mouth to hush me. “I know what you meant, Zee.”

My lips curl into a flirty smirk. “I like that you called me Zee. Only my family and bandmates call me Zee.”

The muffled sound of the next band is being announced inside. I recognize the name and realize this is the band that Beckett wanted me to listen to.

The opening guitar riff of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck can be heard. Glancing over at Carter, I grin. “Isn’t this one of your favorites?”

He blushes, and fuck, he’s even hot when he blushes. “You remembered?”

I don’t bother answering him, because if I did, I’d say something cheesy like, I remember everything about you.

Carter starts bobbing his head, as if unable to stop himself from enjoying the music.

“Let’s spend the rest of the night dancing together,” I blurt, probably a little too eagerly. “We can spend time together while I check out the guitarist.”

The sultry look on Carter’s face makes me so damn curious where his mind just went.

“You know what? That sounds fun. Let’s dance. Just remember, I’m not as young as you,” he jokes as he nudges me out of the booth.

As I stand up, a memory pops up in my head. Carter’s ex used to tease him about his age. Then he would blame Carter’s age for their differences whenever they fought. I know, because Carter would message me venting about his asshole ex. Carter might have been joking just now, but it’s also a sore subject. I'll do anything in my power to erase those toxic thoughts and boost Carter’s self esteem.

I reach out for Carter’s hand and place a seductive kiss on his knuckles. “You joke, but with the way you played my body on the dance floor earlier, tells me that you're the right age for me.”

We make our way toward the club’s door, but at the last moment Carter tugs me into the shadows and crowds me against the wall. I grin, placing my hands on his hips and yanking him closer.

His breath mingles with mine and I’m suddenly aware of every part of his body that presses against me.

“You liked the way I played your body in there, Zee?”

I shiver at his rumbling tone and nod. God, I liked it so much.

Carter’s thumb caresses my bottom lip, his hungry gaze following the movement. “Can I kiss you, Zayden?”

My lips part and Carter continues to run the pad of his thumb over the sensitive flesh. Electric jolts of lust pulse through my body. I nod desperately.

His gaze darkens. “Say it. Tell me you want me to kiss you. I need to know you want me. Not some random person you were dancing with in the club, not some groupie, or supermodel. Just me. Carter Leeland.”

“Carter,” I whisper. “I’ve wanted no one but you for years.” Only I will know how true those words are.

Carter groans, and crashes his lips to mine. I part my lips and his tongue sweeps against mine. We both pull and tug and grind at each other frantically. Never in my life have I experienced a kiss like this. This isn’t just sexual need, this is desperate and emotional. Meaningful.

He pulls me even closer, but it’s as if I’m not close enough. I want more. Vaguely, I hear someone walk past us and back into the club, but I don’t bother looking up. I’m lost in this kiss. Lost in Carter and his intoxicating scent; hints of lemon, rum, and vanilla.

I suck on his tongue and he moans against my lips. Damn. He feels so good. Soft and hard in all the right places. Carter deepens the kiss by tilting my head. His erection presses against mine and my knees almost give out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Carter. Carter, we need to stop. Unless you want me to come in my pants.”

Carter smirks, but pulls away with one last kiss to my lips.

“Wow,” I say, completely lust drunk. “That was better than in my dreams.”

He chuckles, low and husky. “Is that so? And how often do you dream of me, Zee?”

“Every damn night.” Fuck. So much for not saying anything cheesy.

Chapter five

Zayden

“Wait, wait, wait.” Ella leans forward in her seat, blonde hair falling forward. “And your Carter was just there, dancing on the dance floor?”

When Ella asked if I wanted to meet for a late brunch at Lettie’s Diner, I couldn't say no to some french toast and a good tête-à-tête. I needed to tell someone about my night with Carter.

Over the last few months, Ella and I have become really good friends. I knew she would get a kick out of the whole story.

Nodding, I chuckle. “Wild, right?” I feel like a teenager gossiping with the popular girl during recess. I bounce in my seat. Damn, I never acted like this before. Not even when I was a teen. “And get this. Remember the guy I told you about that I met at Rocktoberfest?”

“No!” She gasps and her eyes widen. “No fucking way.”

I nod again. “Yup. It was him. Carter was in the crowd that day.”

“Shut the fuck up.” She covers her mouth, but I can see the wide smile between her fingers. It's a rare occurrence when Ella cusses, so I know she's really shocked.

My smile is so wide that my cheeks burn. “I’m glad we’re friends, Ella.”

“Me too. Although, this whole fairytale romance thing you have going with Carter is making me jealous. It’s like a damn Hallmark movie come to life.” Her eyes sparkle as she takes a sip of her mimosa. I’m probably jumping ahead of myself, but it’s been a while since I’ve had good news to share with people. I can’t wait to tell Olly and Noah. With both of my brothers finding love recently, I’m sure they’d appreciate it if I was off the market and settled down too.

Ella stands. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to order a scone. Did you want anything?”

“Nah. But thanks. The food is amazing here, but the coffee? Not so much. I’m planning to go to Cinny Latte after. Their coffee is to die for.”

When my phone vibrates, I instinctively feel a rush of nerves and excitement swirling in my stomach.

Arcade Lake Group Chat

Olly: How was the show last night? Was the rhythm guitarist as good as Beckett made him out to be?

Dallas: Please say yes. I want to find a new guitarist before Leslie gets wind that old man Olly is retiring.

Olly: Sorry, bro. I’m all about that domestic life now.

Emery: Trust me, you guys would retire too if you saw Olly’s new boo. Ezra is sexy as hell.

Olly: Hey! Eyes to yourself, asstard.

Beckett: Ass tard? How cute, even Olly’s name calling is more mild.

Dallas: Children, children. Enough. I really wanna hear what Zee has to say about the guitarist.

Zayden: The band was really fucking good. It felt like I was at an actual AC/DC concert.

Dallas: I fucking told you guys!

Zayden: Here. Incoming. I recorded a video for everyone.

Zaden: (Video Attachment)

Emery: Fuck that noise. There’s no way.

Beckett: Fucking here we go! This is why I had Zayden check them out alone.

Olly: I don’t get it. The rhythm guitar is really good.

I scrunch my brows in confusion. What the hell is going on? It’s not like Emery to act like this when it comes to the band. Emery might be the lead singer and the most popular guy in the band, but he is always fair.

Zayden: Agreed. And I saw him in person. This is just the video. Imagine him live.

One of the hardest things about not having my brother in the band anymore is how much I’m going to miss playing with him. Our musical chemistry is off the charts, especially when we play live. Olly and I not only compliment each other, we feed off of each other’s energy. Our music is so technical that without a rhythm guitar, our music won’t make sense; the whole song would change. The guy I watched on stage last night has that special charisma, that sense of excitement when he plays, and if he can learn our songs, I have a good feeling we would mesh well.

Dallas: What’s your problem, Emery?

Beckett: His problem is he can’t share well. The kid idolizes you. And I know for a fact he already knows all of our songs.

Emery has left the chat.

Whoa. What the fuck? It’s not like Emery to overreact or be dramatic. Dialing his number, I give him a call, but get sent straight to voice message. My phone buzzes with an incoming text, not even a minute later.

Emery: My step brother is NOT joining the band.

Emery: I’m still pissed, but uh, can you add me back into the group chat?

Oh. Wow. Okay. I chuckle. This makes so much more sense now.

“What are you smiling over here?” Ella asks, as she sits back down with a raspberry scone on a cute little plate.

“Apparently the guitarist I was watching last night is Emery’s step brother. I never met the guy, but I heard he was talented as hell.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“Let’s just say the two have some weird beef with each other.”

Ella taps her chin jokingly. “Interesting.”

My phone begins to ring, and I notice it’s Leslie. I hit ignore and continue laughing with Ella.

I’m so caught up in our conversation that I almost miss the handsome man walking by. “Carter?” I call out. He pauses midstep, face is flushed. It’s obvious he saw us. Looks like my Cinderella is back.

“Hey, Zee.” His striking blue eyes bounce to Ella, and narrow.

Ah. He thinks he interrupted something. Guess I gotta prove now that Carter is in my life, he’s the only one I have eyes for. “Are you busy? Come, join us.”

He hesitates by our table. I jump up and grab a chair from the empty table next to us. I scoot his chair as close to mine as possible. Carter notices and chuckles, but remains silent. Another memory surfaces. Carter used to tell me that he wished he could find someone who showed a little more affection in public.

Since we are in a queer friendly town, don’t have the paparazzi up my ass, and I’m next to two of my closest friends, I don’t even hesitate to tangle my fingers with Carter’s before bringing it up to my lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Ella, this is the man I was just talking about. This is Carter, my best friend.” And hopefully something more.

Carter’s eyebrows fly up in shock. The grin that follows lights up his whole face. I can’t help myself. Just knowing that I put that look on his face has me lifting his hand back up to my lips so I can kiss the back of hand.

“Well, now,” Ella drawls. “I don’t kiss my friends like that.”

“Carter’s special,” I quip back. “I want him to be more than just a friend.”

Carter gasps, and his blue eyes search mine. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.”

Carter smiles, and squeezes my hand. Then he reaches over to shake Ella’s. “Hi, where are my manners?”

She shakes his hand. “Hi, I’m Ella.”

“Carter. Carter Leeland.”

“Leeland. Why do I know that name? Wait, are you the owner of Leeland Marketing?”

“I am.” Carter gives her a genuine smile. “You’ve heard of me?”

Ella nods eagerly. “Yes, we have an interview together later this week.”

Carter sits up straight. “Wait, you’re Ella Gray?”

“The one and only.” She stands, waving a finger between us. “You two catch up. I look forward to seeing you later this week, Carter.”

They shake hands again. Once Ella is out of sight, Carter turns his sparkling blues toward me. “Wow. She seems nice. And here I thought she was one of your supermodels.”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t kidding, Carter. I want us to be more than friends. I know that might be crazy since we just met in person for the first time. But I’ve spent years getting to know you. I don’t want to scare you away, but I also don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I might have a reputation with the media, but I haven’t been with anyone since before Rocktoberfest.”

Chuckling at Carter’s shocked look, I take my fingers and press them under his chin. His mouth snaps closed. “But why? You didn’t know it was me when we met.”

“Can I confess something?” I ask him.

He nods.

“That day, I was singing that song for you, the Carter I met online. My best friend, and the man I had developed feelings for.” No need to tell him how deep those feelings are. “Anyway, then we met, and something clicked. Even though I was singing that song for Carter32, I was wildly attracted to you in the crowd.”

“Would you have tried to go further with me if I didn’t run?”

“No. Not when I had such deep feelings for my friend online. No, for a moment I took advantage of the fact that we didn’t exchange names, and I sang our song, pretending you really were my Carter.”

“That’s… fuck. That’s something out of a romance. What are the chances?”

“It’s why I was so damn shocked last night when you told me that you were my Carter.”

“But what about the club? We danced before you knew who I was.”

I nod, laughing. “Ella insisted I go out and try to get over you. I was like a lost puppy not hearing from you as often.”

He leans forward and places a kiss on my lips. It’s sweet and nothing more than the press of his lips on mine. When he pulls away, I blink in shock.

My fingers trail up to my tingling lips. “What was that for?”

“Think of it as the start of my apology. I’m so sorry for pulling away. I really was busy moving here to Olivia Cove, and starting my marketing business. But also, a part of me was scared. I still am.” He waves his hand at me. “You're stunning, rich, and famous. You’ve been with a lot of beautiful people. And I’m just me. I’m kind of boring.”

“There’s nothing boring about you, love. You have been my rock over these past several years. Especially with the stalker.”

“Fuck. Zayden. I just read the article the other day. I know you told me it was bad, but I didn’t know how bad. I wish I was there for you more during that time. And your poor brother. He deserves so much more. You both do. I was afraid to bring it up last night, but I at least want to say that now.”

“Thank you, Carter. And you were there. You messaged me constantly. You checked in on me. Even told me when to eat and hydrate.” I chuckle. “Do you know you totally have Daddy vibes? It’s hot.”

Carter laughs. “Is that something you like? Daddy kink?”

I grin. “Only with you. But I don’t know if I can actually call you Daddy without giggling.”

“No. I’d rather you call me Carter. I love the sound of my name on your lips.”

This time I lean forward and kiss him. “Wanna get coffee with me? I was planning on getting something at Cinny Latte.”

“I’ve never been there before.”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat. Since we both have a sweet tooth for our coffee, you’re going to love this place.”

We walk down the street hand in hand. And I can’t help but fall for this small town even more. Ella and Noah were right. So far, the towns folk haven’t batted an eye at my celebrity status or the fact that I’m holding hands with another man. The feeling is exhilarating and freeing.

Right before we reach the cafe my phone buzzes. I glance down and see that it’s Leslie. I sigh. “I’m so sorry. It’s my manager. I have to get this.” I tug Carter toward the side of the building. My Cinderella doesn’t need to get any ideas and run off.

“Leslie, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been blowing up everyone’s phones and no one has been answering.”

Fuck. Of course I was the one who had to answer.

“Was anyone going to tell me that Olly is quitting?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Damn it.

“You have a fucking tour coming up, not to mention Rocktoberfest is right around the corner. That doesn’t give you enough time to find a fucking replacement and hope he can nail Olly’s parts.”

“We’ll make it work.”

“Fuck that. You assholes should have already had a backup in mind, with your guy’s fame, I’ve told you that shit happens and there needs to be backups at the ready.”

I sigh. Fuck, he’s right. But the whole band has been so stubborn. We didn’t like the idea of being so replaceable, or the thought of some asshole fucking up our songs we’ve worked so hard on.

“You get a hold of the guys. I’m flying the rest of them out tomorrow. I’m sending you the address to a local studio in Olivia Cove. You will hold auditions there starting Thursday.”

“Auditions? We don’t want the public getting a hold of this information yet.” My heart pounds as adrenaline feels like it’s pumping through me. If the media finds out, they might twist all the progress and awareness we brought with Dee Rama’s article.

“Too late. Your brother should have just manned up and not let his emotions affect him so much. I’m text all of you the info. This isn’t up for debate. The label is pissed.” With that, he hangs up.

Holding up my index finger to Carter, I pull up the band’s group chat and furiously start typing.

Arcade Lake Group Chat

Zayden: FYI: Leslie found out Olly is leaving the band.

Zayden: He’s flying everyone out here to Olivia Cove. Apparently the label is pissed and auditions start Thursday.

I’m so fucking angry, I want to text the band and vent to them about what Leslie said about Olly needing to man up. Fuck that noise. Leslie is out of here as soon as his contract expires at the end of the year. Olly didn’t do anything wrong. As if hearing my inner turmoil, Olly is the first to message back.

Olly: Fuck, guys. I’m sorry.

Emery: Ugh. How the hell did he find out?

Dallas: That was my fault. I was on the phone with Emery last night and someone overheard me and posted about it on social media.

Beckett: Fuuuck. Well, Em, you should consider letting your brother audition. It’s either that or we might get stuck with some ass hat trying to change our style.

Emery: Step brother.

Beckett: Whatever, man.

Zayden: Keep your phones on, fuckers. I can’t play messenger right now. I’m about to go on a date.

Immediately, I see all the band members start typing at once. Laughing silently, I put my phone on silent and place it back in my pocket before any of their replies can come through. I’m still shaking with rage. I hate Leslie. He doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t care about my brother’s well being. He’s just in it for the money.

“Is everything okay?” Carter walks to my side and rubs comforting circles on my back. “Is there something I can do to help?”

My shoulders begin to relax under Carter’s touch. When we make eye contact, my anger dissipates. There’s always been something about this man that just helps settle me. Ground me. And he’s even more comforting in person.

I nod. “Just need a distraction.”

“Will it help if I kiss you?”

Glancing over at the man I’m in love with, I nod again. “Please, Carter. Kiss me.”

Chapter six

Carter

“Please, Carter. Kiss me.”

Fuck, has anyone ever looked at me like this before? Zayden conveys so many emotions in his facial expressions. To the world he’s this cocky and confident rock star, but right here, right now? I can tell he’s showing me his true self. He’s showing me his pain and vulnerabilities. His anger and love.

Zayden once confessed to me that he likes it when his partner takes control, and I can tell, something in his demeanor says he needs this.

Leading him further away from the street, I flip Zayden around so that he’s facing the wall, my hands on his hips. He’s still angry, and whatever his manager said to him rattled his good mood. Zayden needs a good distraction. Something to take his mind off everything. There’s no windows in this little space between the two buildings, and I doubt anyone will walk by us, just in case I guide him into the little alcove.

I shove my body against his and crowd him from behind. “Would you like me to distract you, Zee? Take control and make you feel really good?”

He shudders at the tone of my voice. “Please,” he begs.

“No need to beg, sweetheart. I got you.” I bite his ear lobe before I tangle my hand through his hair and tug his head back, exposing his neck. My other hand reaches for his belt and he gasps. Unbuckling it, I yank it off, then start kissing his neck.

Zayden pushes his ass against me and moans when he feels how hard I am. As much as I want to fuck him right here in the alley, it would take way too long to prep him. I might be eighty percent positive that no one will walk in on us, but Zayden is still a celebrity, and it’s too risky. I care about Zee too much to be caught. But a quick blowie before anyone can even rush into the alley?

That’s something I can do for my man.

I flip him back around in a move that’s pure power and dominance. Zayden’s pupils are blown out, and he already looks so lust drunk. My eyes drop down to his thick erection in his tight pants.

“Awe. Look at you, sweetheart. So fucking desperate. Do you want me to take care of that?” I trail a hand over the head of his cock. It jerks under his pants, and a bead of precum blooms on the material.

Zayden whimpers and nods frantically. “Yes, please take care of me, Carter.” Damn. Why do I get the impression he’s talking about his cock and so much more?”

I unbutton his pants and drop to my knees. I only drag the material down enough so that it’s just under his balls. Then I get to work; sucking and slurping. I bob my head like my life depends on it as I race Zayden to his finish. The thought of getting him to blow so fast is heady and sexy as fuck. I can’t help myself, I unzip my pants and pull myself out.

“Oh fuck, that’s so hot, love.” Zayden pushes his hips forward and begins to thrust into my mouth. I stroke myself in time with my head bobs and it doesn’t take long at all before Zayden is spilling down my throat and moaning. The sound of him getting off is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard. My orgasm slams into me, and I try my hardest to aim at the ground and not get splatter on his shoes.

After a quick moment of catching our breaths, we tuck ourselves away and I stand. I pepper his lips with kisses. “Thank you, for letting me do that.”

“Damn, love. You can do that any time.”

I bark out a laugh. “Now, how do you feel about that coffee date?”

Zayden’s smile lights up his whole face, and I’m tempted to pump my first into the air and call out ‘mission accomplished.’

Instead, I place another sweet kiss on his lips.

“As long as it’s a date, you can take me anywhere.”

“Good. Let’s go on this date and have fun, then later tonight, I want to take you to my place and see what it feels like to be inside of the man I’m falling for.”

“Hot damn, maybe we should just skip the coffee.”

Chapter seven

Zayden

The next several weeks swirl by in a whirlwind of auditions, practice, and going out for date nights with Carter. After the first several disasters of auditions, Emery finally caved and called his step brother, Roman.

Beckett wasn’t kidding when he said the kid was talented and knew all our songs. Roman might not be my brother, but the on stage chemistry we have while performing is off the charts. Besides the strange tension between Roman and Emery, the kid has been a real fucking blessing.

“You ready to test out your skills on the road?” I say to Roman as he packs up his guitar for the night. We’re in the studio and we just finished practice. Carter is off to the side giving me some serious ‘come hither’ looks that are starting to get distracting.

Every day after work, Carter left his office and immediately joined us at the studio. For someone who claimed to not like progressive metal once, he seems to be eager to watch me play. Every night after practice, we get a quick bite to eat, go to either his place or mine, before we spend the rest of the evening watching our current TV show on netflix before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Some nights we make love, with Carter dominating the fuck out of me, and other nights we just sleep. Either way, I wouldn’t change a thing. What we seem to have is absolutely perfect.

Roman zips up his guitar case. “Yeah, I’m excited to go on tour with you guys.”

“Did you ever go on tour with the tribute band?” I ask.

“Nah, we played locally, and it’s just for fun. All the guys knew Arcade Lake is my favorite band. They were happy for me.”

“Good,” I clap Roman on the back and say my goodbyes before I rush over to Carter and throw my arms around him. “You always smell so good,” I murmur against his neck.

Emery’s tablet rings, indicating that he has an incoming call. “Gather around guys,” Emery says. “This is Olly. Let’s make sure we all say hello.”

At the last minute we convinced my brother to come on tour with us since it would be a short one. We only had six stops, and we thought that by having both Roman and Olly on tour, they could alternate between songs, and help with the transition of introducing him to our fans.

Everyone greets my brother, passing the tablet between them, until it finally gets passed to me. Olly is beaming into the screen, and my heart fucking melts. “You look good, Olls.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat.

“Thanks, Zee. Do you remember Ezra?”

The beautiful blonde I met a couple of months ago pops into the screen and waves. “Hi, Zayden! It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hey Ez. I’d like to introduce you and my brother to my boyfriend.”

Olly’s eyes widen in shock. Even though it’s been a few months since we started dating, I haven’t had time to introduce my brother to Carter, even online.

The introductions are brief and both Carter and Ezra are smiling at the end. The band behind me laughs as they chat, and a sudden sense of warmth and love overcomes me. This right here is what life is all about. Love, family, and happiness.

“Hey Zee,” Olly says into the phone. “Mind if we chat for a bit?”

“Sure,” I say, placing a kiss on Carter’s cheek and walking over to the other side of the room for privacy.

“You look happy.” He grins through the screen and I smile back. “Yeah, so do you.”

“Who would have ever thought of either of us finding a significant other.”

“Right? As pathetic as it sounds, I’m actually really nervous about the tour. Carter has to work since he landed that big job with Dee Rama Magazine. I don’t know how I’m going to handle us being apart. Even if it’s only six stops.”

Olly chuckles. “Fuck, you really love this guy, huh?”

I smirk into the screen and reply in a hushed tone. “I do. But I haven’t told him yet. I plan to, at Rocktoberfest.”

“That’s great. Never thought you’d be a romantic too.”

“I am. I think I’ve always been, it just took the right guy to realize it. So, are you going to miss Ezra?”

“Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Since this is my farewell tour, I was hoping to bring Ezra with me. Aunt Tessy and Ezra’s coworkers have his store covered. So he’s free to travel with me.”

My mouth falls open, shocked and a little zap of jealousy pulses through me. Then I shake it off. I have plenty of time and plenty of tours up ahead where Carter can join. “Of course,” I reply. “Is he going on the tour bus with us? Maybe you two can take the back room?”

“Actually Ezra is excited to try out the bunks. We will take one of the extra large ones and cuddle up together. If we kick each other too much, I’ll move over to one of the spare bunks.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah!” Ezra appears next to Olly. “I wanted to give the whole tour bus experience a try. It’s probably one of the only times I’ll ever get to try one, and Olly says you guys splurged for the extra comfy mattresses.”

I laugh. “We did.”

Olly glances into the screen and smiles. “I already cleared it with everyone too, you can get the big bed and the back room.”

“Well I’m not going to argue with that.” I laugh.

When we first started touring, I remember when we made it a big goal to perform at Rocktoberfest. This might not be our first time, and it’s always been a favorite, but between the stalker, all the drama, dealing with Leslie, and taking breaks to fall in love, I have to admit, this year’s road to Rocktoberfest has been a difficult one. Still I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter eight

Carter

Rocktoberfest, Black Rock City

“Ella, hurry up woman. You are going to make me miss Zayden’s band,” I say with a grin, as Ella hops around with one shoe on.

“Why the hell does Rocktoberfest have to be in the desert? My heels would look so much better with this outfit than my converse. Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve worn them, I can’t even find the other one.”

I glance at my watch. “Come on, Ella. They are going on stage soon,” I plead. The whole point of scrambling through my workload this week was to see my boyfriend perform live. I thought it would be romantic to see him perform live again at the music festival that started it all.

The whole band is in on the surprise, even Roman. I’m going to watch Arcade Lake perform today, then hang out with them here in town until we take the trip back home together. It’s why the band easily agreed to Zayden having the back room. I wanted us to have as much privacy as possible. Plus, I’m not entirely sure my back can handle one of the small bunks.

“Ah, ha! Found it,” Ella cries out. “Alright, let’s go! Let’s go.”

We rush out of Ella’s RV and practically sprint to the main stage. By the time I show my badge and make it past security, I’m panting. We rush backstage and sprint around the corner so we can see them perform.

It looks like they are already in the middle of their set. Olly and Noah look at me from the side and rush forward. “Hey! You made it,” Noah says with a grin.

I glance over at Roman performing. “How’s he doing?” I ask Olly.

“Honestly, really fucking good. He might even be better than me!” Olly shakes his head. I hope Emery gets his head out of his ass and lets Roman join full time.”

“Wow, that good, huh?”

Ella, Noah, and I dance to the music.

Toward the end of their set, Zayden spins around, and spots me. His mouth falls open with shock, before it’s quickly replaced with a wide smile.

Emery snickers and hands Zayden the mic. Olly drags over two stools and the twins sit on them.

“Rocktoberfest, I wanted to sing a special song for you today. Since this is Olly’s farewell tour, he wanted to join me with this one. What do you think?”

The crowd goes crazy, already knowing what song he’s going to perform, by chanting the title ‘Oceans Apart’ over and over again.

Olly laughs into the mic and strums his acoustic guitar. “That’s right, looks like you guys didn’t forget the song that went viral last year. Zee and I are performing Oceans Apart, but this time the whole band is joining in. Dallas will be on drums, Emery is covering keyboards, and believe it or not, Beckett is playing the mother fucking harmonica.”

The crowd cheers.

Emery starts playing the keys, bringing a whole other life to the song. And together the twins start strumming the strings of their guitars while Zee sings. My Zee. The man I’m in love with.

There’s something here between us

Secrets and whispers between each word

Can you feel it?

With each message, it’s like a confession,

And yet, you don’t pull away

Instead, our hearts still touch

Can you feel it?

With each truth I reveal, it’s as if I’m pulling you closer to me.

Can you sense it?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We’ve never met, yet, somehow you know me

By sharing my confessions, I’m giving you a piece of me

The only piece of me

Can you see my heart?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We’ve never met, yet, somehow you know me

The world might think they own me

So desperate for my attention

Ironic, since all my attention is on you

I don’t know what you look like

Yet, I feel you

I don’t know what you sound like

Yet, I hear you

Oceans apart, dreams away

We’ve never met,

Yet, somehow I know you

When Zayden sings the last words, and the crowd goes wild, he takes off the strap to his acoustic guitar and hands it to his brother. Then, to my shock he rushes forward and swoops me up into his arms.

Zee’s lyrics and music are still vibrating in my veins. I pepper his face with kisses. “I love you, Zayden.”

He kisses me passionately before leaning his forehead against mine. His smile is bright. I love you too, Carter.”

Epilogue: Carter

Never in my wildest dreams have I thought that I'd fall for a gorgeous rock star, or that he'd fall for me. Growing up, I was taught to never make waves, to never jump into the spotlight, because it has this way of sneaking up and blinding you. All those romances in the movies? It felt like something unattainable.

Then I met Zayden—my best friend, my whole world. It’s as if fate brought us together all those years ago, giving us the time we needed to fully heal while we got to know each other. To learn how to trust again. To learn how to love.

Waking up next to this charming, funny, and brilliant man every day is unlike anything I've ever experienced with someone. There are some mornings I find myself just admiring the curve of his plush lips or the sweep of his lashes against his skin. He looks so innocent while he’s asleep, but I know how brilliant his mind is when he's awake.

I love the way he constantly carries a little notebook in his back pocket, ready to jot down lyrics whenever or wherever the inspiration strikes. Zayden and Olly have gotten together several times a year to write songs together, and their acoustic pieces have gained just as much attention as their more aggressive music.

“Do you think everyone is here already?” Zayden asks as we walk through the front door of Silk, our favorite restaurant here in Olivia Cove. My hand presses at the small of his back as I lead him toward the hostess stand.

This restaurant holds so many happy memories for us, and tonight I hope I can make it even more special by adding another memory here.

Tonight I plan on proposing to the love of my life. Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't figured it out yet.

I grin at Zayden. “I got a text from Olly. He says we're the last to arrive.” Only, Zayden doesn't realize when we said everyone, I meant everyone we love.

Seth, the owner of Silk, greets us at the front, before guiding us toward the private room. As soon as we step inside, we both gasp. The room is even more beautiful than I imagined it would be, with its floor-to-ceiling windows giving us a stunning view of the sparkling ocean beyond.

The timing turned out exactly as planned; the sun is setting, causing the ocean to glitter like thousands of diamonds. Taking advantage of the sunset, I drop to one knee in front of Zayden.

His hand flies to his mouth in shock. “What are you doing?” He whispers, with a huge grin on his face. Happy tears spring to his eyes when I pull out a velvet box.

“Zayden, my love, my best friend. My beautiful Zee. I've dreamt of this moment for years. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to say, which words would make this perfect. I wanted this moment to be one that both of us remember for the rest of our lives. But then I realized I can't write beautiful lyrics like you do, I don't know how to play any instruments, or how to sing a perfect tune. What I do know is that you are my world. My everything. We’ve spent years forming the perfect messages, words that I will cherish for the rest of my life. But now, I'm ready to not just make words with you. I want to make memories with you. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Yes! Yes! Of course. There’s only one problem.” He grins.

“What’s that?” You’ll have to fight me for the title of happiest man in the world.”

I laugh, tickling his sides. “You’re on, sweetheart.”