Chapter One

"You want me to do what?" Will stared at the paper proposal. He hadn't seen a proposal for art done on paper in forever. Everything seemed to come through email or mass shared files. The paper version was so … archaic.

He scanned through the information and his brain damn near misfired. Carsten Gold. He hadn't heard that name in a long time. A shiver ran the length of his spine. Back in the day, Carsten had been mighty handsome. Unlike Will, he hadn't had a gangly teen phase. Nope. Carsten always looked hot. Now that he had ten years on his frame, he looked even better.

But Carsten Gold wasn't all that shimmered. Not in the least. Carsten had been the bane of Will's existence. He'd done everything possible to make Will feel like an outcast.

Not that Marissa needed to know his life history.

He turned his attention to his fellow professor. "First, I thought we only did digital props. Second, when did we start catering to celebrities? Third, no. I'm not doing this." He refused to take part.

"I'm sorry?" Marissa Kline shook her head. "You're the best with graphic design and the artist demanded you."

Sure he did. Probably to demean him again. Or to give him ten tons of shit. No, thank you. He set his jaw. "Artist?" He was an artist. Carsten was a creator. "He's a musician. That's not art." It was, but now that he'd lost his temper, little coming out of his mouth would make sense.

"Why are you so bitter about this?"

If she only knew. "No reason. I'm just not feeling the spark for this project. Not being inspired."

Marissa sighed. "Not feeling it? You're kidding me. It's a simple poster. The management is trying to rehab his image after coming out, so he's doing campus shows. It's not that complicated. He wants a basic poster and in your style. How hard is that?"

She was right. The concept wasn't hard. The execution wasn't either. Dealing with Carsten … now that was the hard part. If she knew how Carsten had treated him, she might not be so welcoming. But she had no idea and he wasn't going to disclose.

She might not be cool with the job if she found out he was collaborating with his former bully. Then again, she might push him harder to do it.

He scrubbed one hand across his forehead. "Fine. I'll do it." To be honest, he couldn't look away from the image of Carsten. The man had only grown hotter with time. The same chiseled features, same mischievous grin on his face, and those biceps … but Carsten peddled in handsome. He had to in order to sell tickets. His music was good, but he had to have the I to go with it.

If only his attitude matched his overall look.

"So you'll do it?" Marissa asked.

"Yes." She'd push until he agreed and part of him did want to work on the project.

"Great." She grinned. Her green eyes sparkled and the spring returned to her step. "I'll get the rest of the files over to you today. Some of it is in digital form, but the initial proposal was print." She shrugged.

"Sure." His stomach churned. He wasn't thrilled. Hadn't been since he'd seen Carsten's face smiling back at him. Why did he have to come back into his life? Why now?

He'd thought he'd moved on. Thought he wasn't ever going to revisit his past. Then Carsten happened.

He could still hear Carsten's taunts. "You're so gay. You're so boring. You think everyone loves you." Carsten hadn't been right, but that hadn't stopped him. Then there was the time he'd pantsed Will in front of the football team. Real nice. Carsten had hit him, too. "I'll knock you right into next week just for existing." What a gem.

"You know he's cute." Deanna sat beside him. "And single."

"And gay?" He'd heard this song and dance one thousand times before. A cute, single gay man must be his next conquest. Except his shyness tended to win out and he wasn't interested. "I'll pass."

"What?" Deanna squeaked. "You can't."

She was a sweet girl and the best grad assistant he could ask for, but he wasn't about to turn to her for dating suggestions. "Not my type." It was a lousy answer, but it'd do for now.

"No one is."

He pulled a folder onto the photo of Carsten, blocking the view. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Deanna folded her arms and leaned against his desk. "You really want to know?"

He didn't, but he couldn't help himself. "Yes."

"You've been single for a year. Stan isn't single. He also wasn't any good for you. He never deserved you and you deserved better. It's time you stopped being cranky and hiding away. It's time you put yourself out there. Why not give this guy a chance?" She tapped the folder with her manicured nail. "He's passing through and might be a good way to get back on the horse, so to speak."

"You're assuming a lot." Too much, really.

"You don't know that."

"What if he's not interested? He might not be. What if he's not single? He could've found a boyfriend in the last few months. To be honest, he might not even look my way." Knowing Carsten, he'd take one look at Will and laugh, then run. Or he'd take up where he'd left off ten years ago. "He's just passing through, but he might not want the complication of a relationship, even for a night."

She narrowed her eyes and sighed, but didn't speak right away. Instead, she simply stared at him. The longer she stayed quiet, the more he wanted to run away. Shit. He didn't need her thinking too hard on this.

"Just because he's passing through doesn't mean he won't be interested. He could be," she said. "If he's got any brains, he'll see you and want to snap you up."

Oh, God. "What makes you think he's even looking?" He hadn't kept up on Carsten, but he doubted Carsten would be single for long.

He glanced down at the file and a few ideas ran through his mind. He sort of knew how he wanted to tackle the concept art and should start pulling the ideas together to create a mock-up.

"Well…" She shrugged and crinkled her nose. "It's possible."

"You haven't answered my question." He opened his laptop. "What gives you the idea he would even want me? What if he doesn't want a one-nighter? What if he's not even looking?"

She rounded his desk. "You've got an idea, don't you?"

"I have a few I'd like to work up for this." He opened the graphics file and the layout he wanted to try first.

"Then okay. I think he'd be interested because I read an interview he did last week about being lonely. He said he wanted a boyfriend—someone quirky, sweet, and unique. Someone not like the rest. He said he'd keep looking until he found that person, too. That could be you."

Could be a hundred other people, too. "You're pushing too hard. Last week you tried to hook me up with that theology professor who said I had cute shoes. He wasn't even gay and he meant your shoes." She had to stop.

"I thought he was talking to you and I'm sorry." She snorted. "Look, I'm tired of seeing you mopey. You're miserable."

"Maybe I like being that way." Not really, but there wasn't much point in the argument. She wasn't listening to him.

"You do not."

"You're right. I don't."

"Then why be that way? You're not happy. You're lonely, too. Wouldn't it be so cool to have two lonely souls come together? It'd be like a movie." Her eyes twinkled. "I'd love a romance like that."

"I'm sure you would." But it was completely impossible. "That's not how this stuff works, though. Love isn't that possible."

"But what if it could be? What if you could have it?"

"Deanna." She needed to let this go.

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't." He pushed away from his desk. He'd never get any work done until she gave him space.

"I just mean you have a chance at forever."

"You think I do," he corrected. "Carsten Gold never said he wanted to date Will Rohr. He said he's tired of being lonely. You don't know that he's coming here for me. For all you know, he's coming to town just to play a show and move on. He wants to play and get paid."

She winced. "True."

"What happens if you get all invested in this relationship you want me to have, into me being with him, but you find out he's not interested? What if he doesn't want to see me? What if there's no connection?" He'd never survive it.

"Okay." She groaned. "You take the fun and romance out of everything."

"I have to because it's my job. I'm not here to fall in love," he said. "I'm here to create art and teach students to do that, too."

"I know."

"So why should I get hooked up with someone? I'm busy and happy." He was busy, but the happy--not so much. Didn't matter. He needed to focus on his work.

She stared at him and he knew she didn't buy his line of bullshit.

"What?"

"You're a terrible liar."

"So?" He had to keep this in check. She might be his grad assistant, but she wasn't his social coordinator.

"You need to get over Stan and move forward. I have a feeling about this one." She grinned. "And I might have talked to him. Bye." She ran out of the room before he could argue.

"Wait." She'd talked to him? Why? How? Jesus. Will could only imagine what she'd told him.

Or what Carsten had said in return.

His stomach lurched again. His past tended to come back to bite him in the ass. Now that Carsten was in his orbit, he'd be in big trouble. He'd fall for Carsten's blue eyes and crooked smile. He'd want to fall into his arms, too.

A piece of his heart belonged to Carsten. Back in the day, despite the harsh treatment, he'd been a sucker for Carsten. Was he still infatuated with him? He'd never know until he saw him, but he had the feeling he was in trouble. He'd fall and have his heart broken, then torn apart. All because he liked Carsten Gold.

Did he really want to get burned again?

Why did love have to be so difficult?

****

Carsten sat on his tour bus and swiped through his messages. He hated the nitty-gritty of running his social media now that he'd fallen out of favor with his management's social media team. The people he'd worked with before didn't want to associate with a gay man. He'd surrounded himself with shitty people and they'd shown their true colors. They wanted money and fame by association.None of them had taken the time to know the real man.

Unfortunately, the real man was more dimensional than they'd given him credit for being.

He read the rest of the messages and switched to his social media streams. Most of the feedback was now positive, but when he'd come out, it'd been bad.Really bad.No one wanted to associate with him.Some even told him he wasn't a real man.The announcement damn near ruined his career. Being himself would be his downfall.

He turned his attention to his personal email. Ashley was supposed to be managing them, but with over five hundred unanswered messages, he guessed she hadn't gotten around to it. He scrolled through the mail, but swiped most to delete it.

His phone pinged with a personal notification. He'd almost forgotten about his other phone. He dropped the tablet in favor of the smaller device.

Jesus Fuck. He should be making music, not doing this kind of housekeeping. He should be practicing his scales and keeping his fingers limber. Should be composing.No, he had to oversee correspondence.

He read the first two emails on his phone. One email concerned the contract for his show at Northern College. Good. He'd been waiting for that one to be completed. The second email involved the layout for the arena at the school and how his stage would be set.

Everything was so standard—the stage, his setup and the building, a basketball arena at the college.Fine.

He looked at the third email, but before he could really read it, his thoughts turned to his time in school, particularly high school.To Will.

His heart squeezed.

Will had been his problem in so many ways. Will was everything he wanted to be and had been such an easy target. Will was different. Will wore bright colors and had pink hair for a while. He created art and sang so well. He also had no problem being out. He'd taken the abuse for admitting he was gay, but never lost his cool.He'd never lost that smile.

God. Carsten closed his eyes. He'd been so jealous of Will. The guy seemed to have everything going his way.

A burst of pain washed over him. He'd hated Will for having everything in place—the grades, the look, the circle of friends and supportive family. Will had everything he wished he could have.

But that was life.Sometimes it wasn't fair.

He could still hear the things he'd said to Will. "I hope you die." Who said things like that? "You dress like a girl." Jesus. "You do realize no one's wearing those shoes now?" He remembered the time he'd tripped Will at graduation practice. Everyone saw and most everyone laughed. At the time he'd thought he'd done it to be funny, but he'd been cruel and oddly thought Will falling at his feet would make Will fall for him. Hardly.

He'd wanted to make Will pay for being gay and being out. Carsten couldn't forget the way his parents looked at him when he came out. When Carsten had tried to come out, his own father beat the fuck out of him. He could still feel the tender spots from the bruises, even if they were long gone and only phantom pain. For six months straight, his father managed to beat him in one way or another, inflicting pain in what he called an attempt to make Carsten not gay. When that hadn't worked, they'd kicked him out of the house and only asked him back when he made it big. They didn't want it to look like they didn't support their son. They hadn't encouraged his music career and only wanted in on the fame he'd earned.

He hadn't had the greatest circle of friends, either. None of them encouraged him until he made it big. Then they all wanted to be around him. They wanted to hang out with him when he'd played football because he'd been a star receiver and the center of attention. He liked the adulation on stage, but not his personal life. The women he'd dated hadn't made his heart race.

Hadn't made him want to settle down.

The music made him want more.

The music made him better.

So did Will.

Goddamn Will.Why did Will have to have such a hold on his heart? It wasn't fair.

Will had to hate him as well. He'd done everything in his power to insult and belittle Will.God, he'd been so immature. He regretted what he'd done because he'd been cruel. Not that he could take any of it back.He couldn't.

How could he explain to Will that he'd been hurting so bad and wanted someone else to hurt, too? It would've been easier to just let Will in on the pain, but also the attraction. He might have had an ally.Might not have been so alone.

He might not have written such deep love songs, either. His career could've been terrible or nonexistent. Did that mean he owed Will a debt of gratitude for his career and songs? Maybe. Maybe not. He could've had his heart broken by someone else and had the same trajectory in his life. Didn't matter, though. He'd have to apologize to Will when he saw him in public. By God, he'd see Will. He hadn't chosen to play Northern College for the fun of it. He'd done it to see Will.He missed Will.

The whole situation was odd, since he hadn't actually been with Will. Could he now? Would Will even give him the time of day? He'd only find out if he took a chance.

He scrolled on his phone and looked up Will's page on the college's website. Will had aged well—at least he had in the photo. He still had his hair. He now wore dark-rimmed glasses, which accentuated his dark eyes. He'd aged a bit, but he still had the same overall look of youth and carefree attitude. He wondered if Will was single.He couldn't be. He was too cute to be alone.

A call interrupted his scrolling and walk down memory lane.Marissa Kline.

He hesitated. He'd connected with her and Will's grad assistant concerning the art for his show. Truth be told, he'd done it to get intel on Will, but he hadn't gathered much information. He swiped to answer. If he left her waiting, she'd either call back or quit on him.Everyone else seemed to have given up on him already.

"Hello," he said. "How can I help you?"

"Mr. Gold, hello. How are you?" she asked. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to reach you."

"I'll always make time for you." It was a fib. He didn't know her well, but he'd learned to foster a polite and accommodating attitude with people in charge of his art and venues. The attitude got things done. He'd learned the hard way to conduct himself with a cordial spirit.

"We have some movement on your poster art," Marissa said. "The artist has some ideas mocked up and I need you to approve of the art before we can move forward. We'd like to start promoting the show as soon as we can."

"Sure, right." He nodded. "You can email it to me."

"Perfect. I've got the file heading to you now so you can look it over. There are two mocks and you're free to make suggestions. Mr. Rohr is working hard to create the art as you've requested."

"I can't wait to see them." Mr. Rohr. That sounded so official. "The professor?"

"Yes. I've known him for so long that he's still Mr. to me," she said. "I'm going to include his email so you can contact him directly if you want changes."

"Sounds great." He barely contained his excitement. He had an unavoidable reason to speak to Will. Good, good.

"The link should be in your inbox shortly. You can download the files from there. Thank you," Marissa said. "I hope it meets your expectations."

"I'm sure it will." He'd seen Will's art at the college and knew his work. The man was good with graphics and creating emotion in a poster. "Thank you and have a good day. I'll be in touch." He waited for her to hang up, then tossed his phone onto the seat.

He draped his arm across the back of the sofa and stared out at the landscape going by in a blur. Nothing else in his world seemed to matter but creating this moment with Will. He'd get to talk to him again and might even have a second chance to make a better impression.

Country love songs could be about the impossible being possible. His dream of redemption just might be coming true.

Cheers to second chances.