Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

TOMMY

NEW YEAR'S EVE, NASHVILLE, 11 PM

" A ll right, Nashville!! Are you ready to rock right into the New Year?"

Brodie's question was met with thunderous applause.

I stood on the sidelines of the biggest stage in town, watching Wayward's lead singer and the rest of the boys from the band—get ready to ring in the new year, rock ‘n' roll style. Brodie, dressed in a red leather kilt, no shirt, and combat boots, strutted the length of the stage, greeting the screaming fans in the front row.

I loved my job and there was nothing like setting up a New Year's Eve concert. Me and the crew had busted our asses since yesterday making sure the equipment, the sound, and the lighting, were perfect. We worked hard on every show, but there was added pressure tonight. Nashville was music central. And people came from all over the world expecting to get wowed. Judging by the booming energy of this audience, I was pretty sure that Wayward Lane would hit their mark tonight.

"I can't hear you!!" Brodie screamed and motioned to the fans by raising his arms high.

The roar of the crowd erupted again, louder. This time, Brodie finally grinned and nodded.

"Yes! That's more like it. Let's make some fucking noise! Or better yet, some Filthy Pain !"

One of their biggest hits and one of my personal favorites. I knew every dirty lyric. Not that I was a musician or a singer myself. Except maybe in the shower.

Brodie began to belt out the opening chorus, and I stood there, in a rare moment of stillness, like I always did at the start of the show. I absorbed the energy around me, and marveled at the performance, witnessing the crew's hard work come to fruition.

The only thing that could make tonight better was if…

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

When I pulled it out and glanced at the gorgeous face of Nate Filier on my screen, anticipation had my heart beating double time. Fuck, I was now amped up higher than the crowd.

"I have to take this." I informed my boss, Ace, who was standing beside me. "I'll be back in ten."

Ace nodded, and I quickly headed backstage.

I couldn't tap ‘ accept ' fast enough.

My one-night stand with the stunning frontman turned out to be anything but just one encounter. Ever since that concert, Nate had haunted my waking thoughts and my nightly dreams.

Despite all the warnings in my head, and the fact I'd never had more than a casual hookup with a man, I kept reaching out to Nate and vice versa. There were dozens of texts and phone calls. We talked about anything and everything. And with each passing day, the need to see him again hit hard. Like right fucking now.

Confession time: I hadn't slept with anyone else since we'd met. He was all I wanted. But our schedules were at odds and we hadn't defined what the hell we were doing.

For two guys in their mid-twenties who spent their lives living out of suitcases and avoiding anything resembling a relationship, it was kind of crazy. Intense and unexpected.

And yet, here we were.

"Happy New Year!" I answered the call as I made my way backstage, looking for a room for privacy.

Nate was performing in Times Square tonight. A new year's gig was a huge deal for a band about to launch their album. It was already midnight in New York. I could see that Nate was surrounded by throngs of people and confetti flying everywhere.

And there was lots of kissing going on, too. Fuck, that made me so damn envious.

"It is now," Nate replied, his voice barely audible. "How's your night, cher?"

Nate's indigo eyes stared back at me, so vivid, so real, and yet too fucking far away. His shaggy curls were wild around his face, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days. The man didn't have a bad hair day or a bad angle. Not to me.

I kept walking, desperate for an empty room, any room, so I could hear his sexy voice at the other end of the line.

"Hold on," I told him. "I'm just leaving the stage area. I'm looking for a quiet place so I can hear you better."

Nate nodded, and I glanced at my screen, noticing that he was moving too.

The VIP room was empty, save for the catering crew, so I slid inside and shut the door. I could still hear the music and the noise of the crowd. But it was about twenty decibels lower.

"That's better," I sighed as Nate's face blurred for a second and then came back into focus. "And to answer your question, my night's great now that I'm talking to you."

Nate's stunning smile appeared and knocked the breath right out of me. I couldn't imagine what would happen when I saw him again in person. We'd need a month, never mind a day, to work out whatever the hell this was between us.

"I wish you were here with me. Or that I was there in Nashville," Nate confessed. "Fucking hell, Tommy, two months has felt like two years."

"Nate, I?—"

I didn't get a chance to finish my reply. Suddenly, Nate's bandmates were crowded all around him.

"Who're you talking to?"

"Who's the hottie with the tattoos?"

"Is that Tommy?"

Since everyone was speaking at the same time, and the phone was jostling, I couldn't tell who said what.

"You guys need to get lost!" Nate growled.

"Ain't no biggie. Who're you having phone sex with?"

That teasing comment came from Otis, the band's guitarist. Xander, the bass player, and Heath, the drummer, moved to stand behind Nate and waved at me. Shit. We'd kept our—whatever this was—on the down-low. But I guess our secret was no longer our own.

"Maybe we should talk tomorrow?" I suggested.

I was far from shy when it came to my lovers, but the things I wanted to say to Nate, I wanted to say only to him.

"Okay, maybe that's a?—"

I heard someone in the background shouting the guys' names.

"Merde, it's the stage manager calling us. We're on. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Even though I was disappointed that our call was so brief, I nodded.

"We're doing inventory, so it's gonna be hectic for most of the day," I replied, my frustration mounting. "How about once I'm done, in the evening, I'll call you? It might be late, though."

"I'll be waiting," Nate replied. "Happy New Year."

Then, the call cut off, leaving me feeling a strange way. Empty. Restless. No, not that. Lonely. Which was odd, since I never felt that way before. I was alone a lot of times, sure, but I was never lonely.

The ping of an incoming text message interrupted my musings. The ache in my chest got lighter when I saw that Nate had sent me the link to view his performance. If I couldn't see him in person, this was the next best thing.

But when I tapped on it, and saw him standing on the open-air stage, in the heart of the neon madness, the ache came roaring back.

The host of the event, a well-known actor, came out to greet all the guys in the band. I couldn't help but notice the flirting when he aimed his perfect grin at Nate. I've never been possessive about people or things, but the burning jealousy in my gut told me there was a first time for everything.

The host made a joke about Nate's outfit—or lack of a winter coat, given the cold weather—and he laughed in response. The deep, husky sound had me biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. Fuck, I missed that laugh. And tasting his smile.

God, one fucking night with this man and I was like an addict needing my fix. Some days, I could hardly believe he and I had even happened.

The last time I saw him, he was standing outside the Wayward Lane tour bus on a damp November day, in nothing but skintight pants, a sheer top, and my leather jacket. The jacket I'd insisted he wear. Not only did I insist he wear it, but I insisted he keep it. Which was odd. That kind of gesture was sentimental, and I was far from that.

Until him.

Until I realized Nate was wearing that jacket right now. I swallowed hard when he crossed his arms, turned, and looked directly at the camera. It was ridiculous to think that he was aiming that smile at me, but I could hope, right?

With the band interview was done, Nate grabbed the mic and waved to the screaming partygoers.

"Thanks so much, y'all! We're stoked to be here tonight to celebrate a brand-new year with you!"

The crowd cheered in response, and Nate nodded.

"Our first album is releasing in two months, so this will be a year that me and the guys are never gonna forget. And we're beyond thrilled to give y'all an early taste of what's to come. I'm dedicating this first song, Falling Away, to the man who gave me this jacket. Do you love it?" he asked the audience as he swiveled around, giving them a 360° tour of his fit.

My eyes caught on his taut ass framed in burgundy leather, and it hit me. Holy shit, it wasn't just my jacket. Nate was wearing the exact same outfit he had on from our night together. Well, except for one item.

I still had his lacy black jockstrap.

"Me too," he responded to the crowd. "And I don't ever plan on returning it."

His statement had my cock rock hard in my jeans, and goosebumps littered my skin.

Same, baby. Same.

With another laugh, Nate turned to his bandmates and started belting out the opening chorus. I could've watched him all night, but my phone buzzed with a reminder from Ace. I had work to get on with, so I reluctantly headed back to the stage to get ready for the first set change.

And the more I walked, the more I realized I couldn't wait any longer. Texting and calling Nate weren't cutting it. I needed to see him. To kiss those unforgettable lips of his. To revel in his laughter.

I pulled up my calendar and glanced at the schedule. Searching my messages, I confirmed that Nate was traveling to Chicago and then headed down south, with a stopover in Tennessee in nine days. It wasn't much, maybe a day or two. But it would have to do.

Without pause, I began making plans.