MAYBE sixty people were there. Hardly a crowd at all. But they were all staring at him. Remy began to play “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel, which was supposed to be the song the wedding band would play for the first dance. Remy strummed the opening chords.
Keep breathing.
He opened his mouth to sing the first verse of a song he knew perfectly. Nothing came out.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Remy began to panic, a claw inside him, the ugly voice starting, and then Jed stepped in front of the microphone. He said not a word, but he smiled at Remy. That tender smile Remy had so wanted before.
Something inside Remy quieted. He began to sing the song, his voice low and quivery. And then his voice got steadier, the lyrics starting to come alive. He sang about a lover’s eyes, all the while keeping his eyes locked with Jed’s. He was feeling the joy of the music because he was singing it to Jed. His voice was loud and alive; it was kicking down doors, canceling out all the what-ifs.
Melanie and Gabe began to dance. Other couples followed them—Elliot and Amy, a bridesmaid and her boyfriend, some others. Hayley, Emma, and a few other kids twirled around in circles. Never taking his eyes off Jed, Remy ended the song and jumped into his arms.
“Can you believe it! I did it. I sang for an audience!” Remy hugged him, bursting with euphoria.
“I’m—I’m glad.” Jed hugged him back, swinging him around. He pressed his lips to Remy’s in a hard kiss. Remy held him tightly. Their mouths moved together, electric as always. He had performed. And he was being kissed. And Remy wanted to savor everything about this moment as joy bubbled through him. He rested a hand on Jed’s solid chest. If he had been dead inside before he came to the ranch, now he was wonderfully alive.
Remy breathed in his scent. Tasted his mouth.
Somebody wolf whistled, and Jed stepped away, looking confused, like he’d forgotten they were surrounded by wedding guests.
He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m proud of you.”
Jed’s praise was all he wanted. For Remy, it was everything; it was perfect. Remy beamed and gripped the outside of Jed’s jacket, wanting to tell him but scrambling for the words now that his song was done. “Jed” was all Remy managed to whisper. He loved him, so much his entire body was full with it.
He was so effortlessly handsome, so honest and good. Remy selfishly wanted all the other people to be gone, to go back to only the two of them. Then he could find his courage, find his right words.
“Thank you so much!” Melanie interrupted them. “I’m so thrilled! This was the best wedding gift ever!”
“More!” shouted Hayley.
“More, more.” Emma clapped her hands.
Others in the crowd echoed her demand.
But it was Jed’s silence that Remy heard. And the way Jed’s attention was no longer on Remy, but on his father. Jed stared at Buddy, and Remy realized two things. Love might not be enough. The past could be stronger than the future.
“Don’t feel pressured,” Melanie said, “the band will show soon.”
“No, it’s fine.” Remy reluctantly walked away from Jed, whose gaze was still on Buddy.
He took to the microphone again. Well-wishers crowded in a little; some took out their phones. Silently, Remy accepted that his days of privacy had ended. He took his sparkling handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his brow. With a deep breath, he shoved it back into his pocket. Remy closed his eyes. He began to sing a few of his older songs, including a fast-paced dance song that he slowed down to work with his acoustic guitar. The pain, his fears, his hopes, his love—all of it came through the last song.
When the final note was done, Remy slowly opened his eyes. The crowd applauded.
Jed was no longer there.
Remy managed to thank the crowd and put down his guitar. He never thought… he never had loved somebody like this. He wanted to kick the microphone down and run.
But hadn’t he already run enough?
“Terrific stuff,” Buddy said, coming to him. He slapped Remy’s back. “See? All you needed was a rest.”
“Whoa, slow down. I didn’t exactly sing in front of thousands.”
“A hundred or five thousand, makes no difference. You sounded great. We can get outa here and get to work.”
“But….” Remy bit his lip. He glanced around the reception. No Jed. His heart sank. Surrounded by partygoers, Remy felt that old, familiar loneliness. Only one thing to cure it—find Jed. But Remy was scared of what Jed might say.
“What’s the problem?”
Remy blinked, trying to focus on Buddy, on his career, on what was happening versus what he wanted to happen.
“I don’t—I lied about having new songs. Maybe if I stay longer….”
Buddy gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “We can work it out on the tour bus. I think you need to step out of your own way. Just write some fluff song and give it a good beat. We’ll tour and market the hell out of it. The next one can be good.”
Remy hated that idea. He wanted his fans to feel his songs on a deeper level than that.
“And now that you’re back on track, I can tell you another deal I’ve been working on. And you’ll never guess who the deal is with.” Buddy smiled at him, all his white teeth flashing.
Oddly, Buddy didn’t acknowledge witnessing Remy and Jed’s kiss. He said nothing about his son at all, as if he were immaterial. A deep sadness welled in Remy then.
“Excuse me a second, Buddy.”
HE found Jed in the barn among the horses, standing with his hands in his pockets. Remy tried to steel himself. He loved Jed and needed Jed in his life, but Buddy’s clear indifference to his son cemented for Remy that this moment wasn’t all about him. What did Jed need? Remy longed to help him.
“You left before I was done.”
Jed startled, then shrugged. “I know. But it’s time, isn’t it? For you to go. For me to stay here. For this”—he gestured between them—“to be over?”
Although he’d been expecting it, Remy felt punched in the gut.
“You could ask me to stay. It doesn’t have to be over.”
“I can’t do that.” Jed shook his head.
“Yes, you can. You can.” He grabbed at him.
Jed folded his arms. “Just wanting something, it isn’t enough.”
“Jed….” Remy willed Jed to fix it, to take his words back, to not toss him away.
Remy opened his mouth to say more, thinking of begging, and then shut it. He had to have some self-respect. Remy didn’t want Jed’s last impression of him to be pathetic. If he were really leaving, he didn’t have to show his trampled feelings.
“Now you can return to what you love.” Jed’s shoulders sagged.
How could Jed be so stupid? The fucker. Jed had heard Remy sing to him. It hadn’t been enough. Jed didn’t believe in them; he didn’t believe that they belonged together, not the way Remy did.
“You need to go,” Jed said.
Remy armed himself. He gave a careless smile. “Whatever the hell you say.”
The ache inside nearly knocked Remy to his knees. But he stood there, straight and proud, glowering at Jed.
Jed flinched, as if Remy had struck him. And there was something lost in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Jed’s voice cracked. “We can talk about it more once the guests are all gone. I’ll help you pack, and we can—”
“Don’t fucking help me pack or do anything.”
“We don’t have to end this on such an ugly note. Later, when we have privacy, I’ll explain better….”
Even dumping him, Jed was going to help fold his clothes and logically go over all the reasons he didn’t want Remy? No fucking way.
It was all he could do not to crumble. All this time, Jed had shown him compassion and protectiveness. He had liked Remy the way he really was, underneath the glitter, and it had been just temporary for Jed.
The thought sliced at him at his core. He felt sick inside. He had to leave and leave soon.
“Remy?” Jed frowned. He lifted his hand toward him, then dropped it to his side.
“You need to understand—I’m only doing—hell. We can continue this conversation later. I promise.”
Remy remained in the barn when Jed left. He hated Jed so much right now. Yes, Remy understood Buddy was a douchebag and hurt Jed, making Jed difficult and closed off at times, but Remy wasn’t Buddy or that Tom guy… or anybody else. Why couldn’t Jed try harder? Fuck him. Remy wasn’t going to be around to hear Jed say goodbye.
When it came to love, he just didn’t get it right. Remy’s face was hot, his stomach churning. Why couldn’t Jed understand how much he wanted to stay? Jed had never promised him that, had never spoken of a future, but still….
He looked at the horses, who looked at him. Butterscotch let out a small huff of air.
Love sucks.
That was what the horse seemed to be saying, and Remy nodded. “You’re telling me.”
That would have been a good song for Remy to write too. Too bad Bret Michaels had taken it already. Not that Remy had the desire to write anything. You’d have thought heartbreak would give him that at least. He petted Butterscotch, and his brain ran through all the decades of heartbreak, mentally listing the songs, trying to calm down. He still had that sharp, relentless ache at his chest. Remy wished he could roll back time and never come here.
Being numb was better than being in this kind of pain. Hopelessness spread through his limbs. He wanted to curl into the fetal position and never move again.
“You okay, pal?” Buddy asked, entering the barn.
“Fantastic.”
Remy straightened a little. Buddy would take him away. They could just go.
Buddy gave him an awkward pat. “I have a surprise for you that might help.”
“I’m not in the mood for a surprise.”
“You’ll thank me for this one.”
“Is it a time machine?”
“What?”
“Forget it. What’s the surprise?”
“Not what, who. Hold on a second.” He quickly texted somebody. Remy wished Buddy would go. Even if Buddy could be his ride out of here, Remy needed to break down and cry. And he wanted to do that alone.
Put it in perspective. It was just a fling.
But his heart wasn’t listening to his brain.
“He’s been nearby, and I had him fly to meet me. This will be the best thing for you, both of you, believe me.”
“Okay.” Remy ran his hand over his eyes. He said the words automatically, as he had been trained to say to Buddy’s schemes.
But when the barn door opened and Nicky stood there, Remy stiffened.
“Hey, Remy.”
“Nicky?” Remy stared at him. Nicky was looking good, polished and in shape. He smiled, and Remy noticed he’d whitened his teeth.
“He wants to go on tour with you,” Buddy said, rubbing his hands in delight.
“What?” Remy glared. “What the fuck?”
“Calm down, Remy. Listen, I called Buddy, before you get mad at him. I had a fight with my manager, and…. The past is the past, right? You and me on the road together would make us tons of money. The publicity of us on stage again together—”
“I never want to be on stage with you again.” He turned to Buddy. “And you fucking knew that!”
“It’s business.” Buddy shrugged. “I truly believe this is in the best interest of both your careers.”
Remy fought off a bubble of hysteria. Could this day be any worse? He took in Buddy’s greedy eyes and Nicky’s smirk, and he wanted to puke. This was what Jed thought he wanted? And Buddy…. God, Jed was right about Buddy all along. He didn’t respect a thing Remy ever said to him if he brought Nicky here.
The emotions inside him rose like a giant wave, and Remy opened his mouth to roar, but he yelled instead.
“I don’t want to work with him. And I shouldn’t have to after the way Nicky treated me. Fuck, I don’t want to tour at all!”
Oh God.
Remy blinked. He meant it. The words hadn’t just come out in anger, but with a ring of truth. Undeniable. “I don’t want it,” he said, the words surprising even him.
Buddy blanched. “You don’t mean that. You sang beautifully at the wedding.”
“It’s not that I’m afraid anymore. I can do it.”
“Then?”
“I don’t want to do it,” he repeated slowly. Enormous relief flooded him. It was like being underwater and then coming up for a lungful of air.
“Don’t be stupid!” Buddy exploded. “Touring is the money. I’ve been patient, letting you stop, making excuses, keeping your shit together for you while you hid out, but I’m done. Jesus, Remy, Athens was forever ago!”
“It’s not Athens. Touring sucks the life out of me. I can’t create in that environment. It was killing me! And I want to create. I want to write music that matters.”
“Oh, please!” Buddy scoffed. “You’re a goddamn pop star.”
“Yeah, I am. One who is rich enough to not have to tour until I want to.”
“You will do this tour—”
“Or else what?”
Buddy’s face contorted. “You will do this tour, and with Nicky, or else I’ll represent Nicky alone.”
Nicky gasped. His gaze darted between Buddy and Remy.
Remy, on the other hand, simply nodded. He had expected nothing else from Buddy. He’d had weeks to see him through new eyes—Jed’s eyes.
Remy folded his arms. “Go to hell, Buddy. I won’t be ordered around. Bullied.”
“Bullied? I took care of you!”
“You did. At the expense of everything else in your life. Because I gave you what you wanted. But I’m through. The fact that you’d make me go back with Nicky….”
“Just for a few months, six tops.” Buddy’s voice dipped. A whiney tone.
The years of loyalty that Remy thought he owed Buddy fell away like a weight from his shoulders. He licked his lips. “Then I guess it’s you and Nicky.”
“Don’t be a fool! You walk away from this, you walk away from me after all I’ve done for you, and nobody will want to work with you again. I’ll let the world know how ungrateful and spoiled you are, and it won’t be long until they all share my opinion.”
“Since I don’t give a fuck about anybody else’s opinion, I guess I’ll risk it.”
Nicky put a hand over his eyes as if to avoid seeing carnage.
Buddy stabbed Remy’s chest with an index finger. “Don’t bother to call me, kid, or come crawling back when you’re a washed-up, aging pop star that nobody gives a shit about. I got Nicky and a million others that I can take all the way to the top.”
“Then I wish you luck. And I hope all those others find being at the top less lonely than I did.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Buddy snapped.
“I don’t think so.”
Buddy marched out in a fury, Nicky trailing behind him, shooting wistful glances at Remy as he went.
Alone in the barn, Remy’s shoulders sagged. He had done it. Cut himself free. And not for Jed, but for himself.
But now what?
Butterscotch switched his tail and whinnied.
“Wanna get outa here for one last ride?” Remy stroked the horse with his open palm. “Let’s do it.” He shed his jacket and Jimmy Choos. Since mucking out the barn had become one of his daily jobs, Remy had kept a pair of boots there. He needed to get a grip and clear his mind because he was going to have to leave Jed and the ranch.
All the time he had done chores had made saddling Butterscotch easy now. He did as Jed had taught him. At the thought of Jed, Remy’s heart went dark. But he wouldn’t think about that. Or think about how many years he’d done Buddy’s bidding like a puppet. No more. He was done pretending.
“I’ll be fine,” Remy told the horse, swinging a leg up.