12. Jesse

12

JESSE

"Why are you here and not at your new place?" I asked my brother, who was sprawled on my couch, his thumbs tapping on his phone screen as he texted with someone.

"Huh?" He rolled his head to look at me.

"I asked why you're here and not enjoying your new apartment."

"Because I'm spending quality time with my big bro." He shot me a big, cheeky grin.

"Quality time with your phone is more like it," I said dryly. "Who are you texting? Hannah? You could just go home and talk to her in person."

"It's like you don't want me here or something." He made exaggerated sad eyes at me.

"Yeah, those don't work on me," I reminded him. "I'm immune to your charms."

"You say that, but here I am, texting on your couch after eating all your food." He pointed to the mess of empty containers littering the coffee table.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

It wasn't unusual for Adam to come over when Hannah was out or working late. My brother wasn't good at being alone, and I'd noticed an uptick in his visits in the last month or so. Ever since Pops' party.

An entire month had passed since I'd let Sebastian fuck me in my childhood bedroom, and I hadn't seen him since.

It was a good thing. It gave us a chance to cool off and forget all about whatever was going on between us.

But it was still weird. It was the middle of summer and our mutual friends were hosting parties every weekend, but Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

I'd done my best to not ask after him but had heard from both my brother and Hannah that he was really busy with work, and that was why he wasn't being social.

That was bullshit, though. I talked to Ben on the regular and we'd met up last weekend. He'd said things at work were calm and steady, just the way he liked.

He hadn't mentioned Sebastian explicitly, but he mentioned they hardly got any fans or lookie-looks at the shop now, and the atmosphere was way better for everyone.

I didn't even know why I was so bent out of shape over any of this. It was exactly what we'd agreed needed to happen. What I'd wanted after our last hookup. We'd fucked whatever that was out of our systems and had gone back to the status quo.

So why couldn't I forget about it? Why did I keep thinking about it? About him?

The sex had been amazing. Hands down the best I'd ever had.

I'd rather slide down a banister covered in broken glass than admit this, but Sebastian had been right. The reason it was so good was because it was the first time I'd surrendered control to someone else and just let myself be in the moment.

Every other sexual encounter in my life had started and ended with me. I was always the aggressor and seducer. The one who made my partners feel good and rocked their worlds.

But the fucked-up part was that I didn't do it because I was some sort of pleasure Dom and getting people off was one of my kinks. I did it because it was the only way I could have sex.

Being vulnerable in front of people didn't come naturally to me, neither did handing over my power. Sex was intimate. It was all about connection and sharing the moment with someone.

At least that's what it was supposed to be like. But until Sebastian, that hadn't been my experience. I liked sex as much as the next guy, and I was good at it. That wasn't even me being arrogant. It was just a fact.

I was good at reading people and even better at being who they wanted me to be. It made sex easy, and it was one of the reasons I'd gone into escorting.

Sex and seduction were formulaic. Kissing, foreplay, then the main event. There were always some variations depending on the situation, but that was essentially it. As long as I stuck to the script, my partners left my bed, or wherever we happened to end up, happy.

I'd thought maybe my preoccupation with everything stemmed from the fact that I'd bottomed for him. I didn't do it often, mostly because I never seemed to find myself with men who wanted to fuck me and were eager for me to fuck them. But also because I needed to be really into things in order to relax enough for it to not hurt. Even then, the last guy I let fuck me complained that I'd still tried to top from the bottom and hadn't given up control.

But I had with Sebastian.

I still didn't know why I'd agreed when he'd asked if he could fuck me.

I didn't have a plan when I told him to meet me in my old room beyond getting each other off again. I needed to touch him, to get rid of the energy buzzing between us that blurred the line between attraction and annoyance.

Then he asked if he could fuck me, and I agreed without a second thought. I didn't just want it; I needed it.

Needed him.

Giving up control to him had been surprisingly easy. Maybe it was because we had mutual trust under our animosity, and I instinctively knew he'd make it good for me. Even with his monster cock.

I'd never taken a dick as big as Sebastian's, and I was ready for it to hurt. I practically gave him permission to stick it in and go to town. But he didn't. He was gentle and considerate, all while pretending to not be.

I'd never tell him this, but I was grateful he kept up our usual banter and energy while he prepped and fucked me. I couldn't have handled any sort of tenderness or softness, not then. What happened between us hadn't been about making love or anything stupid like that. It was about fucking and getting off, which was exactly what we'd done.

What I really needed to do was stop obsessing over it and let it the fuck go.

It didn't matter why I was hung up on things. I needed to get over it. Sebastian had.

"I'm fine."

I startled. Shit. I'd zoned out in the middle of our conversation. Thank god Adam was engrossed in his phone and didn't seem to notice.

"Are you sure?"

He stopped typing and dropped his phone onto his chest. "Yeah, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"Nothing." He shot me a typical Adam grin, the one he used when he didn't want to talk about something and no amount of pushing would make him open up. "Is there any more pizza left?"

"You ate it all."

"What about that leftover Thai from a few days ago?"

"You ate that too. And the spaghetti I made last night," I added preemptively.

He patted his stomach. "Do you have any ice cream sandwiches left?"

"Ice cream sandwiches?" I wasn't a fan of ice cream and hadn't had one in years.

"Yeah." He rolled off the couch. "One sec."

I waited as he made a beeline for my kitchen, then came back a moment later with an ice cream sandwich in his hand.

"What the hell? When did I buy those?"

"You didn't." He flopped down on the couch and started peeling off the wrapper. "I stuck them in there a few weeks ago as an emergency stash in case you ran out of good stuff."

"Of course you did." I huffed out a laugh. "I still have that chocolate Easter bunny you hid in the back of my pantry. Well, most of it. The ears and butt got eaten the last time Isaac and Jamie came over."

"Oh, right. I forgot I put that there. Remind me when you run out of these." He wiggled the ice cream at me, then took a big bite.

"Are you sure everything is fine?"

He waved his hand dismissively and finished swallowing. "All good. Do you have any plans tonight?"

"Not anymore."

He shot me a questioning look.

"I was supposed to meet up with Isaac and Jamie, but they had to bail."

"Is the reason as weird as I think it is?" he asked with a knowing grin.

"Well, if you're thinking that they're both covered in purple body paint that isn't coming off, then yes. It's as weird as that."

He snickered. "Those guys are crazy. But it sucks your plans got canceled. Want to come to a show with us?"

"What show, and who's us?"

"Hannah and me. And Sebastian's show."

"Sebastian's show?" I spluttered.

He shot me a weird look. "Yeah. He's performing at The Honest Lawyer tonight."

"Why have I heard that name before? Is that one of the bars you used to go to when you were in college?"

"Yup. It's on the west side, close to student housing, but the crowd is usually older. Grad students or locals, so it's a chill vibe."

"And he's doing a show there? Like his band?"

Adam shook his head. "Nope. No band. Just him."

"He does that?"

"Sometimes." He shrugged. "He hasn't done a ton of them or anything, but he's played a few. We've gone to all of them so far."

"Really? How does that even work?"

Adam gave me a strange look. "He gets up on stage and sings, just like any other show…"

"I know that." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It wasn't Adam's fault I was stumbling over my words like a dumbass. "I just meant how do solo shows work with his kind of music? Doesn't he need a band and lots of amps and stuff? Or does he use recordings?"

"Nope." Adam stuffed the last of his dessert in his mouth and paused while he chewed. "His solo stuff is different from when he was with Vessel. He still does unplugged covers of their songs since he wrote most of them, but he mostly performs his solo stuff now."

"Solo stuff?"

I'd only ever known Sebastian to be in bands. His high school band had broken up just before grad, and he'd formed Vessel within a few months of leaving town.

I knew he'd written songs for other bands for collaborations, but I hadn't realized he'd also written most of his band's songs too.

Adam balled up the wrapper from his dessert and tossed it into one of the open containers on the table. "Two points!" He raised his arms in a laying down victory pose, then dropped them back onto his chest with a dull thud . "Yup. He told me he sells most of what he writes, but he's testing out new sounds and seeing people's reactions to them at his shows."

"Really?"

"Yup. And his new sound is way different from when he was with Vessel. I swear that guy can write anything. Pop, country, rock, metal, even jazz. It's crazy how talented he is." Adam snort-laughed. "Dude plays multiple instruments, can sing as well as Quinn, and he paints. Hannah says all the artistic talent in their family got passed on to him, and all she got was a head for numbers."

I sat there, stunned.

I thought he retired from the industry and that was it. I hadn't heard anything about him performing or still writing music. Was this a recent thing?

"Want to come with us? Doors open at ten."

I glanced at my phone out of habit. It was almost eight.

"Hannah's picking me up in about twenty minutes. You can catch a ride with us," he offered.

"Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Are you sure? It's not like you have plans—or a life." He pretended to flick something at me.

"I'm good. Not really in the mood to go to a bar."

"Suit yourself." He pushed up from the couch and stood. "I'm going to grab a beer to pregame. Want one?"

I shook my head.

He shrugged and disappeared into my kitchen again.

The last thing I needed was to watch Sebastian perform, even if I would be with my brother and Hannah.

The less we saw of each other, the better.

And it wasn't like a night at home alone would kill me.

The sensual notes of a Gothic-sounding rock song played through the speaker of my phone, filling my truck cab.

"Holy shit," I muttered, my eyes glued to the screen.

I'd spent over an hour going through Sebastian's and Vessel's social media channels, my curiosity piqued after my conversation with Adam.

After watching various videos he'd posted of him performing in bars, stadiums, festivals, and recording studios, both with Vessel and solo, I'd gotten in my truck and driven to The Honest Lawyer, where I currently sat in the parking lot contemplating if I should go in or turn around and head home.

I'd never looked up his music because I assumed it would be heavy and loud like in high school, but I'd been wrong.

Most of the videos I'd seen of him performing with Vessel were what I pictured when I thought of a heavy metal band, but it was also so much more. The lyrics were profound, and the non-screaming parts of the song were catchy as hell. They reminded me of a mix of the Gothic rock and heavy alternative bands that were popular in the '90s.

His solo stuff was completely different.

I assumed he could sing since he'd spent over six years in the music industry and signed with a major record label after two years of touring as an indie band, but I hadn't realized he could sing .

Quinn was the only other singer I knew. He'd moved to New York City when he was twenty with dreams of making it on Broadway. He was an incredible singer and could mimic every genre out there, from pop to rock to blues to show tunes.

Sebastian's voice was just as versatile. I'd seen a video of him performing an a cappella cover of The Phantom of the Opera with a female vocalist from one of the bands he'd toured with that sounded as good as any opera singers I'd ever heard. I'd also watched him perform sensual-sounding rock songs with her and a variety of other types of heavier music with other bands as a guest vocalist.

Then there were the videos of him performing piano covers of classic rock songs like "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen and "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel in concert halls, and stadium favorites like Bryan Adams's "Summer of '69" and Bon Jovi's "It's My Life" to massive crowds of screaming fans at festivals and open-air concerts.

But the video that absolutely enthralled me was one of him on the beach near his cabin. The video had almost no production value and was just a single shot taken at sunset while he played his guitar and sang a hauntingly beautiful song about being nothing more than a background character in other people's lives and how much it hurt to feel invisible unless people wanted something from you.

The visuals of the video were stunning, with the sun setting over the water, but it was the lyrics and how he sang them that really hit hard.

I could have written it myself. The emotion he put into every word was palpable, and the way he looked at the camera was shy and sweet, a far cry from the frontman who radiated sex appeal and sensuality in his other videos.

It felt personal and intimate, like a little glimpse behind the curtain that blurred the line between Sebastian's public persona and who he was off stage.

The notes of the current song faded out, leaving behind a deafening silence. I exited out of the app and powered down my phone screen, still reeling from everything I'd learned in the last few hours.

I should go. Being here and watching him perform live was a mistake. I needed to put distance between us, but I couldn't bring myself to start my truck and leave.

"Fuck it," I said into the empty cab, pulling my keys out of the ignition.

I'd find a spot in the back and stay for one song, just to satisfy my curiosity. Then I could put all this behind me and move on.

Shoving my door open, I got out of my truck and locked the doors with my key fob.

The parking lot was packed. I'd parked in the only available spot when I pulled in. Was that normal for a Saturday night, or was it because Bas was playing? A huge marquee sign on the side of the building had his name on it, so I was definitely in the right place.

Weaving between cars, I made my way to the entrance. A bouncer was stationed outside the door, but there wasn't a line or anything, and I walked right up to him.

He gave me a quick once-over, like he was deciding if he should ask for my ID. "Cover is ten bucks tonight."

I pulled out my wallet and handed him a bill. He stuffed it in his pocket and waved to the door. "Enjoy the show."

The hair on the back of my neck rose when I heard Sebastian's sultry voice, complete with a sexy rasp that sounded even better in person.

It was about ten minutes past ten, and the show had already started.

The club was as packed as the parking lot. All the booths and tables were occupied, and groups of people were crowded around tall bar tables with no seats that looked like they'd been shoved into every available space. The overhead lights were low, and a single spotlight illuminated a stool in the middle of a small stage where Sebastian sat strumming away on his guitar as he sang into the microphone.

Grateful for the darkness, I kept close to the back wall and made my way over to the only empty bar table I could see.

I couldn't look away as Sebastian finished his song, holding the last note for an impressively long time and ending with a perfect vibrato.

The audience, which had been nearly silent during his performance, burst into applause as Bas sat back in his stool, his cheeks ruddy and a shy smile tilting his lips.

"Thank you," he said when the applause petered out, some of his usual confidence back. "I'm really excited to be back tonight. Was anyone at my last show?"

A burst of applause and cheers rang out before he even finished his question.

"Wow, that's awesome!" He beamed in the direction most of the cheers had come from. "Thanks so much for all your support." He fingered the guitar strings, almost like he was playing unconsciously.

"I thought we'd do something a bit different tonight. Instead of me just sitting up here and playing what I want, how about you tell me what you want to hear?"

More applause and cheers.

"Okay." His smile was big and bright and genuine. He wasn't just gorgeous; he was radiant.

Had I ever seen him smile like that? I couldn't remember if I had.

"Awesome." He beamed another big, happy grin. "So, my first question is, do you want to hear my new stuff, or are you here for Vessel covers?"

It felt like everyone in the club started calling out their answers, the words blurring together into an inaudible din.

"Okay, okay." Sebastian laughed and held up his hands in a surrender motion. "That's on me," he continued when the crowd quieted again. "Should have thought that one through a bit better." He chuckled and resumed plucking at his guitar strings. "How about we do a show of hands for this one? Who's here for new music?"

Just over half of the crowd raised their hands.

"Okay. Now who's here for Vessel songs?"

About a quarter of the crowd raised their hands.

"And if you have no idea who I am and are here because the other bars were full?" He put his hand up and scanned the room.

A few groups raised their hands, and the audience laughed.

Sebastian threw back his head and laughed with them. "Thanks for your honesty. I'll try to make your evening a good one."

"I want to have your babies!" a female voice screeched from somewhere near the bar.

"How about we start with something new?" he asked, ignoring the heckler.

The audience clapped loudly, and a few people hooted and hollered excitedly.

Jesus. Sebastian really was an ambivert. The way he handled the crowd was impressive, and his confidence was hot as fuck. He was the perfect blend of rock star and regular guy at an open mic show, and he had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand.

He smiled and resumed strumming the guitar strings, the notes of a song I'd never heard before filling the air. "I wrote most of this song about three years ago, but I never finished it. Then I forgot about it until last week." He chuckled softly, rocking back and forth in gentle waves as he played the notes on a loop like he was repeating the same five seconds over and over. "But I found it, finished it, and now I'd like to debut it. This is ‘Not Until You.'"

He leaned back on his stool, his hands moving fluidly over his guitar as he started to play.

The tone of it was low and melancholy, and the tempo was slow, but it didn't sound sad, exactly. More wistful. Like when you thought about good times with someone you miss.

Then he started singing, his throaty voice so full of emotion I could barely hear the lyrics because I was so focused on how the song made me feel.

The crowd was absolutely silent, and I couldn't look away, mesmerized by not only his song, but by him.

The lyrics were about missing someone, but not a lover or girlfriend. It was about drifting away from friends as you grow up and remembering the good times you had with them.

The crowd was silent for a few beats when he finished playing. Then applause broke out, but it was subdued compared to his first song.

"Yeah, I didn't think that one through." He huffed out a shaky laugh and scrubbed his hand through his hair in an embarrassed move. "That wasn't the right choice to get the night started. How's this?"

He started playing the opening bars of "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond. The crowd immediately started singing along, belting out the lyrics to the infamous refrain along with him.

"Bah bah bah!" He crooned into the microphone, being as extra as I'd ever seen him. He finished it off with a dramatic guitar riff where he somehow made his acoustic guitar sound like an electric one.

"Is that better?" he asked the crowd.

They shouted and cheered, back to their original energy.

"Awesome. How about we do some requests? It can be for anything of mine you've heard or a cover of one of your faves if I know it."

"Cellophane!" someone yelled, getting their request out before the mess of other people called their answers to him.

That was the song from the video on his dock, the one that had enthralled me.

"Cellophane it is." He strummed the opening bars.

Hearing him perform it in person was a thousand times more intense than seeing it on video. Sebastian sang like he was born to be on stage, injecting so much emotion into every word that you felt his music as much as you heard it.

My entire body was covered in goosebumps by the time he finished the first chorus.

I needed to go.

I came here to satisfy my curiosity and learn a bit more about Sebastian's music, and I'd done that.

I hadn't expected to see such a different side of him.

Bas was incredibly talented. I'd always known that, but I never really thought about just how gifted he was. How dedicated he was and how hard he'd worked to achieve what he had.

And I'd ragged on him for retiring. I basically called him a failure when he was the furthest thing from one. He'd accomplished more by twenty-five than most people did in a lifetime. More than I ever would.

Feeling a little numb and a lot off-kilter, I slipped out of the bar and headed back to my truck.