Chapter Three

Blake stood outside the recording studio and sucked in a ragged breath. He wasn’t dolled up in his full Payday regalia but had used the mascara and liner to make his eyes pop. He felt more confident when he felt pretty, and today he needed every ounce of courage he could get.

“Blake.” Bob rounded the corner. At sixty, the man could pass for at least ten years younger. The grays at his temples added an air of importance without aging him. The tan gave him a glow and his attitude helped with the appearance of being young. “You made it.”

“I did.” He respected Bob. “You’re thinner. You look good, but thin. What’s your secret? You never seem to get older.”

“Lower stress levels, sunshine and loving my life. I book who I want and work with those I love. I keep the schedule light.” Bob stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That and exercise.”

“You’ve colored your hair.” Blake swore Bob limited the amount of grays. “Good job.”

“I try,” Bob said. “Are you heading in? The party is about to get going. I’ve got the backing band assembled, so this should be smooth.”

“I hope so.” He couldn’t shake his nervousness. “I don’t know if I’m ready. It’s been a year since I was in the studio. What if I’m a mess?”

“You’ve always been a mess. That’s why I like you.” Bob clapped him on the shoulder. “You love music, right?”

“Right.” He couldn’t remember a time without music—save for his hours on the movie sets.

“You love to play and sing, yes?”

“Yes.” Where is he going with these questions?

“Love being on the stage?”

“I do.”

“Then suck it up and go in there. We’re all here to make music.” Bob nudged him. “Go.”

He headed into the studio. Palm trees took up each corner and a backdrop of the beach had been affixed to one wall. It wasn’t the best-looking ‘sand, fun and sun’ feeling, but someone had tried.

Once in the sound room, he recognized some of the players, but his breath caught when he spotted Jude. The same old feelings surfaced. He wanted to hold Jude and nibble on his neck. He remembered where Jude had his tattoo and longed to run his fingers over the planes of his chest. He yearned for Jude’s kiss and the temperature seemed to kick up a few degrees.

“Hi,” Blake said. “I’m here.”

“You are.” Bob laughed. “This is Tony Mason on rhythm guitar, Pops Nells plays the drums, Gary Lucas blows bass, Curtis Kinkaid on lead guitar and Sandy Danns on organ. Lee and Noel are doing backing vocals. We’ll get some horns in for Jude’s numbers, but other than that, I think we’re set. Jude?”

Jude stopped chatting with Tony. “Hi.” He smiled and rested his hands on his hips. “How are you?”

Jude had approached him like they didn’t know each other at all. Of course. Jude could be cool when he wanted. Jude put a façade on when presented with difficult situations, but not many people realized he did it—Blake knew. Blake summoned his courage again. “I’m well. You?”

“Good. I’m looking forward to the tour. This should be fun.” Jude shook hands with him, then turned his attention back to Tony.

Blake’s heart dropped. He’d thought there could be a chance of getting together with Jude. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Seeing the way Jude interacted with Tony annoyed him. There wasn’t a spark between the two musicians, but the closeness rankled him. He should be the one with Jude.

Blake squared his shoulders. If he wanted a second chance with the man he loved, then he needed to make it happen.

Bob clapped his hands. “I want to hear your interpretation of Corinne. That’s your biggest hit, right, Jude?”

Jude nodded once. “It’s up there. Who here has heard it?”

Blake raised his hand. He knew all Jude’s songs. When Jude didn’t look in his direction, he stopped trying to gain his attention. His heart sank. Singing with Jude made him happy—except today.

“Anyone in the band know it?” Jude asked.

“I know Call Me, Dear.” Lee leaned on the piano. “Why not that one?”

“Sure.” Jude tapped out the beat. “One, two, three, four.” He launched into the song, and within a few bars, the rest of the cobbled-together band joined in.

Blake wanted to sing along. When he heard Call Me, Dear, he imagined Jude was singing it to him. Jude put his heart and soul into the song. Even with an electric band backing him, he made the tune swing.

Bob grinned and clapped along with the song.

The power of Jude, the way he captured the attention of the crowd and commanded the song, simply shimmered. He was electric.

Blake longed to join in, but didn’t. This was Jude’s chance to shine. He enjoyed watching Jude in the spotlight. Ever since he’d first heard Jude sing, he’d been a fan.

The song finished and Jude bowed. “Yes,” Jude said. “We can swing. I love it.”

Bob applauded. “Sure did. Damn, that’s hot. You’ll have the crowd eating out of your hands.”

He sure would. Blake tensed. He’d always felt inadequate musically when pitted against Jude. Blake’s music was changed and manipulated through sound boxes and computers. Jude was straight balls-to-the-wall swing. He didn’t need electronics to improve his work.

Blake left the studio and ducked into the adjacent recording room. No palm trees, no God-awful backdrop or oppressive heat. Someone had left a guitar on the stand. He hadn’t played in almost a year, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the instrument and settling on the closest stool.

He closed his eyes and strummed the guitar. When he’d started out, he’d played and practiced until his fingers bled. He’d sung in front of anyone who’d listen. He’d poured his heart and soul into the music, trying to get noticed because he wanted to be a star. Once he’d attained his goal, he hadn’t felt satisfied—rather that he’d lost himself. ‘Payday’ had been the brainchild of Kel, who’d said Blake needed a gimmick. Playing the role of an over-the-top star seemed to work. The more he added electronics to the mix, the crazier he dressed and the more he showed off, the more people paid attention. The songs got lost in the shuffle. For five years he’d plugged along and played to the outlandish side of his persona. He’d won popularity awards, but not industry ones. He’d been asked to play large venues, but few other artists took chances on him. A handful had tried to record with him, but the magic only truly happened with Jude.

His heart ached. He missed the closeness he’d shared with Jude. The heated glances influenced the songs. He wanted to attract Jude and to keep him.

“Wow.”

Blake stopped strumming. He’d forgotten he was alone. When he looked up, Bob and Jude stood in the doorway.

Bob nodded as he applauded. “If you record that, you’ll have a hit record. It’s fresh and stripped. I like it.”

Jude dipped his head as Bob spoke, then left.

Shit. When he looked at Jude, his nerve endings buzzed. He wanted to kiss him and feel Jude in his hands.

He put the guitar down. “Sorry. I should’ve stayed in there.”

“The air got heavy. I get it.” Bob swatted at Blake’s shoulder. “It’s going to be hard seeing him, but channel what you just did. You can stand with him. You’re on his level.”

“We’re not in the same league.”

“You’re in two different genres. It’s expected that you’ll clash on some things, but not all.” Bob steered him to the front recording room. “Try? For me?”

“With the exception of fucking or blowing you, or breaking the law for you, you know I’ll do whatever you ask,” Blake said.

“I know.” Bob bowed his head. “Trust me. I know and I’m grateful. How about we get the lists done?” He led the way into the room. No one spoke or even looked at him.

Blake fidgeted. Walking out had made him look petulant, but the others didn’t understand him. Sometimes he needed air. Other times he wanted out. They’d never get the bouts of depression and worry. They didn’t have anything to prove. He did.

“Everyone,” Bob said. “I need Jude and Blake to put their heads together and write up a set list. You’re all welcome to toss in ideas, but right now I want a basic idea of what will be presented on stage.” He pointed to Jude and Blake. “There’s a room down the hallway. Use it.” He waved his hand, seeming to dismiss them. “Everyone else, let’s do some jamming.”

Blake left the room. He wasn’t in any position to argue with anyone and wanted out of the dark sound room. He ducked into the office and thanked God for the sunshine coming through the window. The added light warmed Blake’s face. When he turned to the door, Jude entered the room.

Jude closed the door.

“So.” Blake leaned against the wall. Back when he and Jude had been together, he’d have pressed Jude to the door and kissed him senseless before blowing him.

“So.” Jude stayed across the space and leaned on the doorframe. “You’re here.”

“So are you.” He crossed his ankles. “We need to create a set list. It should probably have fifteen or so songs and there should be three versions of the list.”

Jude narrowed his eyes. “What got you to do this tour? Did you need the money?”

“No.” Not really. “I like touring.”

“You said it’s a grind.”

“It is, but I enjoy it. I’m a wandering soul.” Jude liked to complain that Blake would never settle down. Blake preferred visiting the different parts of the towns they stopped at during tours. He liked wandering the streets of a new town and exploring.

“Ah.”

“What about you? You had a good gig at the clubs in California. Did you need the money?” Blake asked. If Jude wanted to be snappy, then he’d be snappy right back.

“No.” Jude tensed.

“Then we don’t need the cash and we’re here. Great.” He took a seat at the table. “I see he left us pen and paper.” He picked up the pen. “What are your must-have songs? What do you want to put on the list?”

“Why are you doing this?” Jude asked.

“Doing what? I’m writing down what I want to sing.” He didn’t look up, instead focusing on the list. If he was going to spend the summer playing music, he wanted the songs to be those he loved.

“Blake.”

He slapped the pen down and glared at Jude. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I agreed to the tour to get back in your pants? That I never got over you? Really? Is that what you want to know?”

Jude folded his arms. “I want the truth.”

He sighed. He’d had this argument in his mind over and over, wondering what Jude might say. Jude’s attitude, the grouchiness now, annoyed him. He leaned back in his seat. If he and Jude were going to work together, then truth was the best path. It wouldn’t hurt to clear the air, too. “Okay, then this is the truth. I had no idea Summer Song would be this popular. It’s a three-year-old tune. I saw the video we made when I was on location in Northern California. I was happy to see us and remember the fun we had back then. That time was the best in my life.”

Jude crooked his eyebrow.

“Then Bob called, asking if I wanted to capitalize on the popularity, and I was hesitant. Why? Because I remember how we split. I didn’t want to hurt you again, but the idea of celebrating our song and the summer sounded fun. That’s why I did this. I didn’t have any other motivations and I don’t want to wreck your life.”

The muscle in Jude’s jaw twitched as he remained quiet.

Jude must want the full truth. Fine. “Yes, I still have feelings for you. I never got over what we had. Christ. I know I messed up and I have to live with it,” Blake said. “I miss you and our close relationship. Am I going to push you to be with me again? No. We have to do what we have to do. The fans want to see us and hear our music. I have no problem doing the stage shows and can keep myself in check. Is that all right with you?”

“It’s all right.”

He’d left his heart on the table, but being honest felt so good. He’d freed himself. “Now, what do you want to sing this summer? I figure a couple of duets, plus Summer Song, then five of each individual songs. I want to do some of mine that are easier to play live. What about you?” He studied Jude’s reaction. The fact he’d stood up for himself and had been honest helped give him strength. The problem sat in Jude’s lap. If Jude wanted to make this situation difficult, then that was on him. Blake wasn’t giving in to being baited.

 

Jude sighed as he completed the list. How could Blake be so cool about the situation? It wasn’t fair. Blake blazed through making his half of the set lists without much trouble.

“Done?” Blake fiddled with his phone. “Looks like Bob got us a tour bus.”

“Each?” He continued writing. Some of his tunes involved more horns than would be feasible to bring on tour.

“Nope. We’re on one bus.”

“One for the band and one for us? Meaning half of the band can go with you and the other half with me? Right?” He didn’t want to be cooped up with Blake.

“They have other jobs outside of the tour and are being flown in. You and I are on the bus.” Blake shrugged. “I’m game.”

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Jude asked. Nothing seemed to be his decision.

“You have plenty of choice. Fly yourself to the gigs. I don’t care.” Blake stood. “You do what you need to, and I’ll take the bus. I want to play music and I’m not in the mood to make a big deal about it.”

He rubbed his forehead. Until today, he’d successfully avoided Blake. Now he’d be with him most of the time. He didn’t want to fall into their old ways, but couldn’t deny his attraction to Blake.

He loved the way Blake accentuated his dark eyes with the liner. He hadn’t worn so much glitter, and the faded jeans paired with the pink T-shirt showcased his thin frame. He was still so handsome and the electricity between him and Jude was off the charts. It took everything Jude had to keep from touching Blake.

“You can back out of the tour if you want,” Blake said. “It’s life.”

“I committed to it and I’ll do it.”

“How’s Rachel?” Blake asked.

“Good. She encouraged me to take this gig.” He finished the list. “There we go. Done.”

“Did she?” Blake doodled on a piece of paper. “She’s nice.”

“She hates your guts.”

“I know.” He didn’t look at Jude. Instead, he seemed to focus on the drawing.

Jude sighed. He’d planned on extending his club tour, but he hadn’t been granted an invitation. He’d also wanted to work on an album of standards from the forties over the summer, too—not go on tour. “What are you sketching?”

“An idea for a tattoo or a logo.” Blake turned the paper around. “Sand, sun and you.” He grinned. “Why not?” He’d joined the words sand and sun at the s, then drawn a sun emblem around the words. The word you had been highlighted in the swell of the yellow circle.

“It’s good.” He doubted the image would work for a tattoo, but it might work for the tour. “Show Bob.”

“I will.” Blake stood. “We have to get these lists to the group so we can start rehearsals.”

“Sure.” He remained at the table. He couldn’t move, even if he’d tried. He couldn’t forget how Blake had drawn the dark horse figure he’d had tattooed onto his ribs. Blake and the tattoo artist were the only people who knew about the ink—not even Rachel knew, and if she did, she’d have a fit.

“One thing.” Blake stopped in the doorway. “I didn’t come out back then because I let Kel convince me it was a terrible business decision, but that didn’t mean I’m not gay or that I didn’t love you. I cherished what we had,” he said. “I am gay and I have to live with the fact I hid who I am out of fear. It sucked and I don’t wish it on anyone.” He looked Jude in the eye. “Every time I told you I love you, I meant it. Still do.” He let the words hang in the air as he left Jude alone in the room.

Jude exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Holy crap. Blake still loved him? It couldn’t be possible. The things they’d said to each other the night they’d split were harsh and not able to be taken back.

He stared out of the window. For the next three months, he’d be spending his time with the man who drove him bonkers, but also heated his blood. Part of him doubted he’d survive. Blake knew how to press each button to annoy him. The rest of him looked forward to being around Blake and seeing if their relationship was due for a second verse.

Anything’s possible.

Still, he couldn’t let things get tense between him and Blake—no matter how much Blake made him crazy. He grabbed the list and rushed out of the door.

Blake stood in the hallway and tapped his phone. “God damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” Jude touched Blake’s arm. The sizzles shot through his veins.

Blake tensed. “Sorry.”

“You’re upset.” Jude rubbed Blake’s back. “If I can help, I want to.”

Blake groaned and shook his head. “It’s Kel.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk? There’s a park not far from here, or if that’s too far away for you, I’m told there’s a patio on the roof. I’ll let Bob know we need a few.” Jude grasped Blake’s hand. “Let’s go. You need a breather.”

Blake didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t fight Jude either.

Jude stopped by the studio and handed Rachel the lists. “Give those to Bob. We’ll be back in forty-five minutes.” Blake needed a friend. “We’ll be back—and no, we’re not sneaking off to cuddle.” He didn’t hang about but instead tugged Blake to the stairwell before Rachel could comment.

The building was only seven stories and they were already on the fifth floor, so the walk to the roof didn’t take long. When they reached the patio, Jude ensured the door was unlocked and they wouldn’t get stranded.

Sunshine and the lake breeze swirled around them. Jude let go of Blake’s hand. “I forgot how pretty June on the lake can be.” The beginnings of orange and purple streaked across the sky as the sun set. Traffic was audible in the distance, but not overpowering. Gulls flew over and the globe lights strung across the patio swayed. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect summer night.

Jude pointed to the wall. “It overlooks the lake, but isn’t at the edge of the building. There’s electrical stuff beyond it, so we won’t have to worry about toppling over.”

“Electrical stuff?” Blake laughed. “You don’t know what’s there?”

“I have no idea what that stuff is.” He’d never been good with anything mechanical. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” Blake rested his elbows on the wall. “The view is nice. Since it’s warm and the lake’s calm, you can see the sailboats.”

“Sure can.” He stood next to Blake. The tension was still thick, but not as bad.

“How’d you know?” Blake asked. “No one else figured it out.”

“What?” He watched Blake, mesmerized by the way the setting sun shimmered on his skin, giving him a blemish-free complexion. If he’d had a camera, he would’ve taken pictures of him.

“All of it. That I’m gay, that I needed to be coddled, that I’m stressed and needed to get out? Bob caught on, but he threw me right back in. You didn’t.” Blake faced him, but flattened his hands on the bricks. “You see the different sides of me.”

Jude shrugged. He shouldn’t minimize the situation, but he needed to keep some walls up. Still, he enjoyed Blake’s company. He truly liked him. “I know you. When you’re on the stage, you’re the center of attention and you control things. It seems so easy for you because of that control. When you’re in the middle of a group, but wearing your shield, you’re safe, too.”

“My shield?”

“The persona. You hide behind Payday. When you’re bare, like now, the real Blake shows through.” He touched Blake’s hand. “The real guy is just as good as the one who electrifies the crowd. But the bare man doesn’t always have control and I’ve seen how critics lambaste you. It’s not right, because you’re being authentic, but that’s life. Sometimes people are rotten.”

“You get it.” Blake half-smiled and the light reached his eyes. “You understand.”

“I guess I’m sort of that armor, too, because I knew you felt overwhelmed. When you disappeared, it all made sense.”

Blake sighed. “I was jealous, too.”

“Of what?”

“You.”

He drummed his fingers on the railing, not sure how to respond. “Me?”

“Yeah. You walk in and everyone likes you. They know your stuff. They think you’re great and you’re like a new penny—you shine.” Blake groaned and pulled away from him. “You play different music from me, but it’s considered more cerebral.”

He wanted to argue with Blake and tell him it’d been just as awkward when he’d walked in, but Blake wouldn’t see it as commiserating. He’d think he was trying to outdo him. “I arrived an hour before you did. We’d already been messing around and that’s why they knew the songs. I promise.” He rubbed Blake’s back. “You aren’t inferior to me like you believe. Hell, we play different music, that’s all.”

“It’s hard not to think that.”

“I know. Awards and praise doesn’t mean much when you’ve got a built-in complex. I’ve got one myself. I’ve played with some people who I know are way above me and I’ve made a mess of the concert, but they’ve been gracious. That’s what I’m trying to do for you—because you deserve it.”

“It’s going to be hard as hell to share a stage with you,” Blake said.

“Why? We’re still friends. We can do this.” He kept rubbing—partly because he enjoyed helping Blake, but mostly because he liked touching him. The sparkle in Blake’s eye and the way he smiled never failed to warm Jude to his core. He missed the conversations he’d shared with Blake and the way they’d held each other at night. He longed to make love to this man again and listen to him cry out when they climaxed. But the relationship couldn’t be romantic. It wasn’t possible.

“You don’t get it,” Blake said. “I never fell out of love with you.” He stood tall and paced. He raked his fingers through his bleached blond hair and shook his head. “I can’t sing our song without thinking of what we’ve had. I know it’ll never work—you and me—but I want to try, despite the known disaster ahead.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d thought he’d ended the romance three years ago. For all he knew, it’d been destroyed.

Blake righted his shirt and fixed his hair. “I don’t have my shield because we need to practice, and because I wanted you to see the real me.”

“I’ve always seen him.” He held out his hand. “We need to be partners to get through this, and I know we can.”

Blake crooked his eyebrow and hesitated. “You do? We can get through a tour and not destroy our fragile friendship?”

“I’m sure of it.” He grasped Blake’s fingers. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the sizzle. He’d never forgotten how much he craved this man’s kiss. He probably couldn’t keep his hands to himself, but he’d have to try. The tour and his friendship with Blake mattered too much to let this fail.