34

Germany becomes Amsterdam, then Paris, and we're at the stage of the tour where exhaustion sets in, homesickness takes over, and we long for a break from the spotlight.

Since the incident after the show in Hamburg, we had a few more tense run-ins with paparazzi and fans. Connor's growing paranoia of crowded spaces means we're spending an increasing amount of time in our hotels, ordering food instead of dining out, and searching for entertainment options that allow us to keep a low profile.

We understand his caution, because that night was a wake-up call. No matter how many times I've denied it in the past, it forced me to admit that being public figures comes with inherent risks.

Still, part of me is disappointed as we travel through these vibrant, historic cities while only being able to watch through a window. While we've taken some drives and done some sightseeing, we make it a point to avoid crowded areas as much as possible.

We're on the plane again, taking the brief flight from Paris to London, when Eric comes over and drops into the seat across from me. "I have a proposition for you."

"Sorry, but no, I won't swap with you. Dmitri doesn't do it for me, and I don't share." Dmitri keeps facing forward, holding his hand up over his head and flipping me off as I grin in his direction.

"No? What is it about him you don't like? Is it the thick hair that's easy to use as handlebars? The stomach muscles that are ribbed for his pleasure? The tattoos that look amazing slathered in jizz? Or the giant dick—"

"Jesus Christ, Eric," I groan. He stops talking and grins at me as Dmitri sighs, a long, drawn-out sound filled with disappointment. "Did you come over here to gush about your crush on your husband, or was there a purpose?"

"Right, my proposition," he says, turning serious. "So, I know you'd been working on writing songs when, er…" His eyes dart to Connor, who frowns. "When you were… upset…"

The sadness on Connor's face is so profound that I climb out of my chair and sink into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as he hugs me close. Such a gentle giant. "What about it?"

"Well, I thought… you might be interested in performing one of those songs at our finale concert." The tour concludes with a show in Charlotte, at a venue we're familiar with and the city where everything started. The fans we love and the place we call home.

Now it's my turn to frown. "You want to perform one of my songs?"

"No," he corrects, shaking his head. "I was hoping you would perform one of your songs. You have so much fucking talent, man, and you're always in the background. Your awesomeness deserves recognition."

"I'm happy in the background," I tell him truthfully.

"I understand that, and I'm not pushing you to do anything you don't want to do. Just… consider it, okay? I don't want there to be any animosity between us, or hard feelings about me performing my songs when you've got these hidden gems tucked inside that brain of yours."

"Are you doing this because you still feel guilty about almost making me lose out on the love of my life?" I'm teasing… but also not.

Eric sighs, his tongue rolling over his teeth like it does when he's thinking hard. "That might be part of it," he admits.

"I'm over it."

"Maybe I'm not," he retorts with a shrug. Quieter, he says, "I'm difficult to deal with, Tai. I'm impulsive, and in my head more often than not. Messy. My actions don't always make sense, even to me, but you have been there for me without fail for as long as I've known you. Slapped reason into me when I needed it—literally, now, mind you—more times than I can count. You've never abandoned me, even when I deserved it."

My eyes soften at the torn look on my best friend's face, and I squeeze Connor's arm as I slide off his lap and sit next to Eric. "Don't start getting mushy on me, pretty boy," I tease, and he laughs, eyes glassy. "You never deserved to be abandoned. That's your old friend insecurity talking."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbles, and I don't miss how Dmitri reaches back to squeeze his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, then lifts his head again, meeting Connor's gaze. Their eyes are close to the same color. Eric's are greener, with brown undertones that change in the light, where Connor's are more of a true hazel—a spot on the color wheel that lands perfectly between green and brown, with a tiny burst of gold at the center.

"I know I've said it before, and it changes nothing, but there's no way for me to express just how sorry I am that I got between the two of you. I see how good you are together. Tai's just… special, you know?"

"Trust me, I know," Connor agrees, and I smile as I glance at him.

"My threat still stands," Eric says, a small grin finally twitching at his lips. "Hurt him, and I'll come at you like a honey badger."

"That's not a great threat," Theo chimes in, because he was obviously listening to the entire conversation.

"Sure it is. Honey badgers are mean little shits."

"Little, he says." Theo is absolutely dripping with sarcasm as he nudges Dante beside him. "He thinks of himself as a mean little shit."

Eric frowns, glancing at his stomach and squeezing it between his fingers. "Babe, have I gained weight?"

"You know I love your belly," Dmitri says, and I can hear his smile.

Eric gasps, loud and dramatic, his other hand falling to his midsection and kneading the soft flesh. "That wasn't an answer… you sidestepped my question!"

Dmitri sighs again and stands, and we all laugh as he scoops Eric up in a bridal carry as though he weighs nothing. He murmurs in Eric's ear, though we can hear it, "Am I going to have to show you again how much I love that teeny belly?"

"Only if you're on your knees while you do it," Eric rasps, and we collectively groan. Once they get started, we need earplugs and a gas mask to escape the horny fumes. Dmitri marches away with Eric as I shake my head, returning to Connor's side as he grins.

"I take it there's a story behind that?"

"Yeah, but don't ask them or you'll regret it. Personal boundaries don't mean a damn thing to those two, and Eric's a world record holder for over-sharing."

"You wrote songs?" he asks, shifting to the original conversation.

A blush burns on my cheeks, and I wave him off. "I piddled around, but it was nothing serious. A way to release some stupid emotions."

"Tai." Apprehension lines my eyes as they move up to his, bowing to the rare authority in his voice. "What is rule number one?"

"No lies," I whisper, and he nods.

"Let me ask again—you wrote songs?"

"A few," I answer, more truthfully this time. "Without the intention of doing anything with them, though. They really were an emotional release—that part wasn't a lie."

"You should think about Eric's offer." Panic reaches for me even as I consider it. Those are my thoughts… my innermost feelings. To put them out on a pedestal for the world to witness—to criticize…

A strong hand lands on my nape and tugs me forward. "Breathe, sweetheart," he murmurs, and I nod as I sink my face into his shoulder. "I'd never ask you to do something you don't want to do. I'm sorry if that was too pushy... it wasn't my place. Forget I said anything, okay?"

"Sometimes I need a push," I admit, and he hugs me tighter. "I'll think about it."

London is appropriately rainy, a faint drizzle speckling our skin as gray-scale clouds smudge the sky in a depressing charcoal sketch. It doesn't detract from the crowds, though, as we make our way through the packed, busy streets, driving towards our latest hotel.

Like with the other places we've passed through, our faces are plastered against the windows, sightseeing and people watching as we roll through the historic city. Homesickness is taking its toll on us, the exhaustion from being on the road mixing with the constant shift between unfamiliar beds with strange smells and foreign noises that invade our sleeping spaces.

Uncharacteristically blue, I say little as we check in to the hotel and make our way to our room. Curled up on the bed, I try to read, but the words blur into fuzzy lines in front of me. With a sigh, I roll over and stare out the window, watching the raindrops paint streaks on the glass.

The mattress sinks as Connor drops behind me, curling against my back and throwing a dense arm around my waist. He tugs me backward and kisses the spot where my spine meets the base of my neck. "Where's that beautiful head?"

"In the clouds." He smiles against me as he hugs me tighter.

"You're tired." It's not a question.

"You'd think that I would remember how much touring takes out of you, but the adrenaline and excitement at the start makes you forget just how out of place you feel."

"How so?"

"Away from home… nothing familiar to ground you. At home, when I'm in a strange mood like this, I can go to the studio and play my piano, or to my favorite overlook and watch the sunset. Read a book in my own bed that doesn't stink like lavender disinfectant. Cook dinner. Do something other than think about the next show and how exhausted I'm going to be… wondering how long I can run with my tank on empty."

I roll over and tuck my face into his neck, throwing a leg over his hips as his fingers trace my spine. "For my entire musical career, this piece of me has been unsatisfied, and it makes me feel…" I trail off.

"Feel what?" he asks, giving me a gentle shake.

"Ungrateful… and like I'll never be happy, or maybe I don't deserve to be. Look at everything I've got, Connor… everything I've accomplished. Fame and money, private jets and international tours filled with screaming fans. All of this, and I just want to be at home in my bed."

"You're allowed to be burnt out."

"Doesn't feel that way."

"Stop trying to be cool, Tai. You told me how much you hate it, so let yourself be messy. Be irritated and irrational for once, and fuck what anyone else says about it. We're close to the end—one more show and then we'll be on that jet flying home." We both fall silent as my eyelids get heavy, soaking in the woodsy smell of his skin as he holds me against him.

"You are my home," I murmur as sleep starts to take me. A soft kiss is placed on my hair, and then I'm lost to the world.