Code Red by N.R. Walker
Chapter Twelve
Maddox’s gazeshot straight to mine, wide with uncertainty and fear, before he turned back to Jeremy. “If you didn’t tell them, how’d they know?” Maddox asked.
“Because we’re not blind,” Luke said.
“And we know you, Maddox,” Blake offered. “We’d wondered if something was up with you two, and last night kinda sealed it.”
“Last night?” I asked. God, which part? My mind raced . . .
Wes looked over at me. “Roscoe, you called him baby. In front of everyone.”
Holy fuck. I could feel the color drain from my face; my stomach felt like ice. “I did?”
Wes nodded. “When he was passed out on his back. You lifted him half off the floor, pulled his shirt off, and said, ‘Come on, baby,’ clear as a bell.”
I didn’t want to believe it but the four of them nodded. “You did,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t say anything last night, but after you left, Wes asked me if I heard you say it.”
Luke gave a pointed glare at Jeremy. “And I asked what he knew and he wouldn’t say any more.”
He put his hands up. “It was not my place to say.”
All eyes eventually fell on Maddox. He looked at me and shrugged. “Roscoe and I are . . . together. I dunno. Seeing each other. With each other. I dunno what to call it.” He met my gaze and winced. “Together?”
I nodded, it was all I could do to offer a show of solidarity. It made my heart do crazy things to hear him say that out loud. “We are.” I swallowed my nerves and looked at Maddox’s bandmates, at his best friends. “What he said. I don’t know what to call it either. We’re just . . . together.”
Maddox smiled at me, just briefly. Jeremy watched Maddox; the others all nodded slowly. “How long?” Blake asked.
Maddox put his hands about nine inches apart. “About that long.”
Christ.
Wes shoved his shoulder. “Not his dick size, asshole.”
Maddox laughed. “What? Too soon?”
Resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands, I pinched the bridge of my nose instead. “Way too soon.”
They laughed and Jeremy put his hands up. “And I’ve known for all of two days. So don’t blame me.”
Maddox sighed and crossed his boots at the ankles. “A few weeks. Just this tour. We didn’t want to tell anyone because Roscoe could lose his job. Or they’d separate us or some stupid shit. It wasn’t a deliberate secret. It was just . . . it was just nice to have something good in my life, ya know?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for not saying something.”
None of them said anything for a while.
Maddox chewed on his bottom lip, his face a mask of sadness. “I can’t fight with you guys over this. I know we always said we’d never do anything to jeopardize the band. And that’s still true. Nothing’s different, nothing’s changed.”
“You’re different,” Blake said quietly. “We noticed it. I mean, how could we not?”
“How have I changed?” Maddox asked, on the defensive.
“You’re happier,” Blake replied.
Oh god.
“And it’s not even that you’re less stressed because you’re finally getting some,” Wes said. “You’re less . . . nervous. Or something.”
Bloody hell.
“We all know how long you’ve been wanting him,” Luke said, smiling.
Wait, what?
Maddox looked around for something to throw at Luke. He did a double take at the iced coffee in his hand. “Shut up. Don’t make me throw this at you.”
Luke and Blake both turned to me. “Oh, you didn’t know,” Blake said, now smiling. He shook his head at Maddox. “You’re banging him but didn’t tell him you’ve been pining over him for two years?”
Two years? Holy shit.
Maddox’s cheeks went red and he shot Blake a daggers-glare. “Wow. Okay. You can shut up now too, please, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Did you tell him about ‘Oceans’?” Luke asked.
Oceans . . . my mind was spinning too much to follow. “Wait . . . the song?” “Oceans” was a song on their latest album. Maddox wrote it; he said it was his favorite. “What about it?”
Wes barked out a laugh. “You never told him?”
“Can everyone just shut up?” Maddox cried, his hand to his forehead. “Look. I don’t want you guys to be mad at me, and I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t embarrass me anymore than you already have. Thanks. But with me and Roscoe . . .” He shook his head and clenched and unclenched his fists, a nervous trait he had. He took a deep breath, then another. “I don’t want you guys to tell me to choose. Please don’t make me choose. My priority is the band and you assholes. Always. But I need this as well. And I know that sounds selfish, and I’m sorry. I know I ask a lot of you guys already, with all the shit that goes on. But I . . . I need this for me.”
No one said anything, and I wasn’t sure it was my place to speak. These were his best friends, his bandmates. They didn’t need me inserting myself in between them, but I hated seeing Maddox singled out, for which I was mostly responsible. “Don’t blame him,” I said. “He wanted to tell you all from the beginning but I asked him not to. So if you wanna be pissed off”—I looked them all in the eye, settling on Maddox—“it’s on me, not him.”
“I’m not pissed off,” Luke said. “I just wish we’d been told.”
“Can you understand why we didn’t say anything?” Maddox asked him. “Can you imagine what Ambrose is gonna do? It means things will change, and I don’t want anything to be different.”
Blake studied me for a bit. “Do Amber and Ryan know?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t told them, but if they know or assume, I can only guess. I think Amber suspects something.” God, just saying that out loud to them made me feel like shit. “I’ll tell them.”
“Roscoe,” Maddox began.
“I can’t ask these guys to lie to their managers or ask them to cover for me.” This was going to end badly, I just knew it. “I’ll tell them today.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. He ran his hand through his hair and his gaze fell on me. “Now I know why you didn’t want to tell anyone.” He pulled at his shirt collar, fanning it for air.
“That’s not fair,” Wes said.
“Fair?” Maddox stared at him. “What’s not fair is this thing”—he waved between himself and me—“is barely a few weeks old. We don’t even know what to call it, if we can call it anything, I don’t fucking know, yet we need to declare it to the whole fucking management team like it’s some financial transaction. We’re not getting married. We’re not initiating peace talks with North Korea. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“No,” Luke said. “But the way this company is run is a big deal. The rules, the contracts, they’re a big deal, Maddox. Now, I’m not against you two, honestly. You know I like Roscoe. He’s a part of the Atrous family. And it’s good to see you happy. I mean that. But things could get really complicated, really fast, if things get ugly. And that fallout will affect us all.”
Maddox shook his head, his jaw bulged. “We won’t let that happen.”
“You say that now,” Blake said. “But things get complicated, Madz.”
Maddox stood up. “You know what’s funny? Is that you all think I’m asking permission. Well, I’m not. But believe me, when one of you finally finds someone you want to bring into the ‘Atrous family’”—he used finger quotes—“I’ll remember this conversation. And we’ll see how fair it is then.” He pulled at his shirt again. Like he was too hot, and he was breathing too heavy.
“Maddox?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
The doors opened and Hardwick came in, all smiles. “Ah, Maddox. Just the man I wanted to see. Check-up time from yesterday.” The mood in the room only then seemed to dawn on him. “Oh, I can come back if now’s not a good time.”
“Now’s the perfect time,” Maddox said, stomping out.
I was left, very awkwardly, with Wes, Blake, Luke, and Jeremy. “So that went well,” Jeremy said, letting out a huge sigh.
I inhaled deeply, trying to sound calm. “Look. I don’t know what I can say to make any of you feel better or reassured in any way. But he’s . . . he means a lot to me. And we’ve talked about the what-ifs and it’s pretty obvious what happens if things turn to shit.” I shrugged. “I’ll be transferred or fired. Nothing for you guys will change.”
“Roscoe,” Wes said gently. “We don’t want that. That’s the exact thing we don’t want.”
“Is it worth risking your job over?” Blake asked me.
“He is, yeah.” I nodded. “He is worth it. And I offered to change units, to swap with Amber or Ryan, but he said no.”
“He’s been happier these last few weeks than he has been in a long time,” Jeremy added, resigned. “We can all see that.”
Luke ran his hand over his face. “I don’t want to sound like the prick, but our concerns are valid.”
“They are,” I agreed. “And so are his. He’s been . . . God. I shouldn’t say anything else.”
“He’s been struggling,” Jeremy offered. “We know.”
Blake met my gaze. “He denies it every time we ask if he’s okay.”
“He doesn’t want to burden you with it,” I told them. “He says you guys, like him, are dealing with enough. But he talks to me. He tells me how he feels, the loneliness, the isolation, the pressure, the fear of not being enough. He talks to me. Finally. And you guys can think it’s just us banging—pretty sure that was the word someone used—but this whole thing between us started because he was scared to be alone, and he wanted someone to hold his hand. Literally. I held his fucking hand. So think of us what you will, but it’s not just some meaningless sex thing.” I sighed. “Not for me, anyway.”
A staffer came in and made her way over. “Uh, Roscoe? The doctor wants to see you? It’s about Maddox.”
Oh god.
I ran to the door, not knowing where to go. “Second door on your right,” she called out behind me.
Second door . . . I pushed the door open. “Is he . . . ?”
Maddox was sitting up on a foldaway table. “I’m fine.”
“He’s not fine,” the doctor said, as if it wasn’t his first time. “His blood pressure is far too high, and after yesterday, with the heat exhaustion and dehydration, he—”
“I’m not going to the fucking hospital,” Maddox said.
I went to him and rubbed his back just as Jeremy, Luke, Blake, and Wes came in the door.
“Oh goodie,” Maddox deadpanned. “Everyone’s here.” He stood up from the table. “Doc, I said I’m fine. Just been a stressful morning arguing with these dickbags.” He thumbed to his four best friends. “Come and take another reading in an hour and I’ll be fine.”
The doc looked at me. “He’s on bedrest for the day. No public appearances, no gym session.”
“That’s a shame,” Maddox mumbled as he took a step toward the door.
“No exercise of any kind, including sex or dance practice. No alcohol,” the doc added. “If his blood pressure doesn’t come down, I’ll need to reassess his travel tomorrow and whether he’ll be going to South America at all. I’ll need to speak to Ambrose.”
Everyone stared. No one breathed.
Maddox rocked back on his heels and he took a sharp inhale as if he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Like fucking hell,” he breathed, his voice tight. “I’m getting on that plane tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said, putting my hand on his arm, trying to defuse the situation. “Maddox is on bedrest. From now on.” Then I glared at the doctor. “Telling him that the tour is in jeopardy is not going to lower his blood pressure anytime soon.”
The doctor shrugged. “He needs to know.”
Maddox thumped his chest. “He’s in the fucking room.”
I met his gaze. He was pale and his breaths were short and sharp. “I’m sorry. Maddox, I—”
“You know what?” he said, pulling his arm free. “This whole day can go to fucking hell.” He stormed out, bumping shoulders with Jeremy as he went. “And anyone who wants to go with it.”
Goddammit.
I chased after him and caught up before he reached his room. He swiped his card and pushed his door open, and I followed him in. He threw his key on the table and snatched a hoodie off the back of a chair just to rage-throw it across the room. “Fuck!”
I grabbed his arm and swung him around, pulling him straight into a tight embrace. He was tense at first and resisted a moment. His breaths were hard and fast. Too hard, too fast. “Breathe for me,” I murmured, holding him until he calmed down.
“Roscoe,” he mumbled into my chest. “I’m really fucking mad. You might wanna—”
I pulled back, took his face in my hands, and kissed him. Hard. Tongue, teeth, lips, hands, frantic and demanding. His shock gave way to welcome and he began kissing me back, and once I felt his body surrender to me, when the fight and anger in him was gone, I slowed the kiss.
I still had him pulled against me, he wasn’t going anywhere. We kissed for I don’t know how long . . . until nothing else mattered. He hitched one leg around my hip and I hoisted him up and carried him to the bed. I laid him down and settled my weight on his.
“You cheated,” he said, smiling now. “The master of distraction.”
“It worked though, did it not? You’re not so mad now. Do you feel okay?” I ran my hand over his chest. “You were pretty worked up.”
“I feel much better.” He spread his legs wide and wrapped them around me. “You better finish what you started, or I’ll be mad all over again.”
I chuckled and kissed him, slow and lovely. I slid my hands up under his shirt, aiming to get it off him, when I remembered. I quickly pulled his shirt back down. “The doctor said no.”
“Fuck the doctor.”
“No thanks. He’s really not my type.”
Maddox stared for a minute before he conceded a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”
I rolled us onto our sides, keeping him close, our legs tangled, my hand on his cheek. He was looking into my eyes in ways that both thrilled and scared me. It was so honest, so real. My heart squeezed. There was so much I wanted to say, so much, and I had no clue where to begin.
“I’m sorry you fought with the guys about us.”
He made a face. “They’ll get over it. I’m not giving in. I compromise everything else. But not this.”
“I don’t want you to fight with them. Not over me. They’re like your brothers, and I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
“But it’s not you I’m fighting over. It’s me. I’m fighting for me. I need this.”
“Is it just you though? If I didn’t work with you, it might be different. But I am part of the team, and that makes it different. What happens between us does affect the others. If we fight or if things end between us, there is a fallout. But if I was some random person, it wouldn’t change anything if we . . . broke up. I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
He smiled and sighed. “Break up. That implies we’re a couple, does it not?”
God. “Well, I don’t know . . . we both said this morning we didn’t know what to call us. Just that we’re kinda together or seeing each other. I don’t know what that makes us.”
His cheeks flushed pink and he smiled into the palm of my hand. “I dunno, Roscoe. We’re seeing each other. And I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone else. Do you want to see other people?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“We’re seeing each other most nights, we’re exclusive.” He smiled. “I think we’re dating, Roscoe.”
I laughed. “I think we might be.”
He made a face, nervous or uncomfortable. “I’ve never . . . I’ve never had a boyfriend or dated anyone. I’m twenty-three, so that’s pretty lame.” He let out a quiet laugh and ducked his head. “Just so you know. I’m probably not very good at it.”
Holy shit.
I lifted his chin and kissed him softly. “I’m not very good at it either. My last relationship ended because my entire life revolved around a certain singer in a band.”
He grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
He didn’t look sorry. “I’m not. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He smiled then. “Can’t say I was actually sorry about it either. I was just being polite.”
I barked out a laugh. “Thanks.” That was years ago though, and it reminded me of something he’d said to Jeremy. “Can I ask you something?”
He looked worried. “Uh, okay?”
“It was two things, actually.”
“Oh, that’s worse. Just remember we’re supposed to be lowering my blood pressure.”
I chuckled. “It was something you said to Jeremy the other day, and something the guys said earlier.”
He groaned out a laugh. “Yeah.”
I stroked my thumb across his cheekbone. “You said to Jeremy that you’d wanted this for a long time, and today Luke said you’d wanted me for years. Then Blake said you’d pined after me for two years.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to my chin. “Christ, Roscoe. Don’t make me say it.”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” I whispered. “I’ve had . . . thoughts . . . about you for about the same time.”
His eyes met mine. “You have?”
I nodded, smiling at the hope in his face. “Probably longer. I told myself it was impossible. That it could never happen.”
He frowned. “Impossible? It’s not impossible.”
“I know that now.” I kissed him soft and sweet. “It’s not easy. But it’s not impossible.”
“I’ve liked you since the day you started,” he murmured, his dark eyes searching mine. “You walked into the dance studio and Ambrose introduced you, remember? You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I thought you were straight at first. Then I found out you were gay and I was like, oh my god, yes, aaaaand then I found out you had a boyfriend. Which sucked.” He smiled sadly. “Not that it mattered because I never thought it was possible either, to be honest. I told myself I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have someone in my life. Not while I was in Atrous. I couldn’t have both.”
I thumbed his cheek and kissed him softly. “Yes you can. You’re allowed to be happy. You deserve to be happy.” I sighed. “But that brings me to the second thing . . .”
“Oh god.”
I chuckled. “The song ‘Oceans.’”
He groaned. “You were never supposed to know.”
“You wrote it for me?”
He searched my eyes for the longest time, and then he sang in a near whisper, melodic and haunting.
I am lost
in oceans of blue
endless waves
that pull me under
depths I've never known
oceans of blue
in a storm of you
may the stars above guide us,
may your lighthouse bring me home
“Maddox,” I murmured. I damn near could have cried.
“You have the bluest eyes,” he said. “I dreamed of getting lost in your eyes. I dreamed that one day you’d look at me like you’re looking at me right now.”
I brought his lips to mine, kissing him. It was sweet and tender. My heart was in it. God, my heart was in it.
He sighed and scanned my face as if he were taking in every detail. Eventually he smiled. “You called me baby in front of them. That’s how they all knew something was up.”
“I have no actual memory of saying that. In my defense, I was stressed and panicking because you were passed out and I needed to get your core temperature down, and that included picking you up and peeling your shirt off you.”
He smiled. “I like that you were so worried about me.” His cheeks were pink. “And you can call me baby anytime.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Hey, baby,” I whispered.
He looked at me, those dark eyes wide and bright. He was smiling that real smile, the one he rarely showed anyone. “Yeah, baby?”
I shook my head, disbelieving that he was in my arms, looking at me like that, calling me that. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He pecked his lips to mine, smiling. He studied my eyes for a long moment. “I don’t know why the others don’t want me to have this. This, right here, being happy with you. I don’t know why they don’t understand. I’ve never had this. I’ve never had anyone . . . and now I have you.”
I held him a little tighter. “They said they realized how much happier you are. They want that for you, they really do. They’re just worried about everything else. And that’s fine. Let them worry about that stuff.”
“I don’t want to be a problem. I don’t want this to be a problem. I wanted them to be happy for me.”
“Give them time.”
He sighed. “Are you still going to tell Amber and Ryan?”
“Do you want me to?”
He seemed to consider this. “I thought I did, but now I don’t know. I don’t want anything to change, but I don’t want any secrets. If we tell them, then let the chips fall where they may, but at least we won’t have to hide anything.”
“Wait up . . . just how public are you talking?”
He laughed. “Just when it’s us. In the hotel or in a car or on a plane. Not in public. I don’t think I want to offer you up for a public sacrifice just yet.”
“Sacrifice?”
“Yeah. The fans. You know, the slightly obsessed ones who for some strange reason think I’m going to marry them? Well, they probably won’t like the idea of us being together too much.”
“But we have a couple name already. They started it.”
He laughed but he soon fell quiet. “You know that gives me an idea . . .”
“What’s that?”
“We should tell Amber and Ryan, and Ambrose too. But we’ll give them a list of terms and conditions. Like no public displays of affection when we’re working, no public making-out sessions, no hand-holding in front of fans or papzz. Or the documentary crew. I don’t even notice them anymore.” He sighed. “But when we’re here or in the common room with the staff, or if we’re just hanging out, if I want to sit with you, I can. That kind of thing.”
That made me smile. “Good idea.”
“That way they can’t be the ones to dictate anything. Or tell us no. Ambrose’ll know we’ve thought this through.”
“I love that idea, but just don’t get your hopes up. Ambrose will always have conditions of his own.”
Which could have me unemployed. But I didn’t say that out loud.
He nodded. “I’m okay with that. I’m just done hiding. We’re officially dating now. You even said so.”
I chuckled. “I’m dating Maddox Kershaw. Maddox fucking Kershaw. And not the Maddox the world thinks he is.” I brushed my thumb along his jaw. “But the real you. The Maddox only I get to see.”
He searched my eyes. “Christ, Roscoe.” He took my hand and put it to his heart. A raw vulnerability pooled in the depth of his gaze. “My heart. You probably shouldn’t say shit like that if you want to lower my blood pressure.”
I laughed. “God. Sorry.”
He cupped my jaw and drew me in for a kiss with just a hint of tongue. The kind of kiss that started something more, and I was just about to pull him on top of me when someone knocked on the door.
“Hey, dickwad, it’s me. Open up.”
Jeremy.
Maddox groaned and pulled away. “Christ.”
“You want to see him?”
Maddox nodded, so I rolled off the bed. I readjusted my crotch and patted down my hair before I opened the door. Maddox laughed behind me, and Jeremy gave me a nod. “Hey,” he said. “The dickwad was meant for him, not you.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I got that, thanks.”
I stood aside and let him in. Maddox was now sitting up, leaning against the headboard, holding a pillow against his chest. It looked casual enough, though the bed was all messed up and I was sure Jeremy could probably tell what we’d been doing.
“Excuse me for not getting up,” Maddox said. “I’m on doctor-ordered bedrest, and I have a raging hard-on.”
I gasped, audibly. Loud enough to make them both look at me. Christ.
Maddox laughed and Jeremy snorted. “Thank you for that grand piece of information that I did not need to know.”
Maddox’s smile began to fade. “Wassup?”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Just need to chill for a bit.”
Jeremy pulled out a seat from the table and faced Maddox. “We didn’t mean to stress you out. We’re on your side, just so you know. I know it probably didn’t feel like it back there, but we’ve got your back. Always. You know that. We might argue and bitch about shit, but when it comes down to it, we support each other. It’s what we do.”
“It didn’t feel like it,” Maddox said. “Kinda felt very one-sided to me.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Probably because we’ve never argued over anything so personal before. Normally we disagree on choreography or lyrics, or whose bridge composition we go with, or whose turn it is to clean up. We’ve never had to discuss serious relationships before.” Jeremy gave me a smile. It was almost a little sad, but it was genuine. “For what it’s worth, Roscoe, I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’m glad it’s him too,” Maddox added.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Uh, same.”
Jeremy sighed but he seemed relieved, happier now that he’d said his piece. “Anyway, they’re looking at taking a trip to Bal Harbour.”
Maddox grimaced and Jeremy nodded. “I told them that’d be your reaction.”
“Are Amber and Ryan good to take you?” I asked.
Jeremy nodded and smiled. “Yeah, and Steve and the boys are on it.”
Maddox looked at me. “Did you want to go? You can go if you want. I’ll happily just stay here.”
I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Shopping? Not if I can avoid it.”
Jeremy chuckled and he ended with a sigh. He looked at Maddox. “Are we good, Madz? I just want you to know that we’ve got you, man. No matter what.”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“The others wanted to come see you but we figured with the blood pressure thing . . .” He grimaced. “That’s new and kinda worrying. Not gonna lie.”
“I’m fine, honestly.”
“Bedrest,” Jeremy said.
“That’s what we were doing when you interrupted us,” Maddox replied.
I sighed. “We weren’t really. Christ, Maddox, don’t tell him that.”
Jeremy studied my face. “Are you blushing?”
“No.”
Maddox laughed. “Okay, Jer, leave him alone. Leave us alone. He was about to lower my blood pressure.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I held the door for Jeremy but couldn’t look him in the eye. He laughed as he walked out. I shut the door and glared at Maddox. “Did you have to tell him that?”
“We’ve always talked like that. It’s how we are. You’ve heard us talk like that for years.”
“Yeah, but it was never about me.”
He moved the pillow and began to rub himself through his pants. “Come over here,” he purred.
And of course, there was another knock at the door.
“It’s Doctor Hardwick.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Maddox grumbled.
“I’ll get it.”
I opened the door. “Is Maddox here? It’s been an hour,” the doc said.
An hour already? Jeez. I welcomed him in and Maddox was still on the bed, still leaning against the headboard with one knee bent. It hid the semi he was sporting. Maddox smiled at the doc. “Bed rest. Just like you said.”
“Uh, I’ll leave you to it,” I said. “I’m just gonna go see Ryan and Amber before they leave.”
Maddox shot me a curious look, but I ducked out the door and found Ryan and Amber in the common room.
“How’s Maddox?” Amber asked.
“Good. The doc’s just doing another blood pressure check now.”
“Okay, well, let us know how it goes,” Ryan added.
“Will do.”
“Has he had high blood pressure before?” Ryan asked.
I shook my head. “No. But he’s been under a lot of stress, and then maybe with yesterday and him passing out . . .” I shrugged. “Um, so there’s something I want to tell you before you go,” I began. “If you’ve got a second.”
I had their undivided attention.
God, here went nothing. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maddox and I . . . we’re, um . . .”
“Together?” Amber asked. “We know.”
“We gathered,” Ryan said. “But thanks for telling us.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “Well, yeah. We’ve just decided to make it official. I guess. After yesterday. The guys noticed . . . well, Jeremy already knew, so that’s not exactly true. But the others noticed.”
“When you called Maddox baby,” Amber said. Was she smiling? Was this funny?
“Uh, yeah. Apparently I did. Though I have no recollection of that.”
“The truth comes out when you’re in a high-stress situation,” Ryan said. “We all heard it. We all saw how worried you were. How you looked after him.” He shrugged. “We kinda assumed you wouldn’t be leaving him today.”
I shook my head again. “No, probably not. He says he feels fine, but he needs to have a rest day for sure.”
“We won’t have the boys out late today,” Amber said. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“If Maddox is okay to fly,” Ryan added.
“He’ll be on that plane,” I said. “You know, wild horses and all that.”
Amber smiled at me. “Thanks for being up front. You know I’ve seen how you two have been watching each other. I pointed it out to you.” She nodded her chin at Ryan. “Ryan had no idea but I caught him up.”
I smiled, embarrassed. “It’s still all new. And for the record, Amber, when you asked me a few weeks back, nothing had happened at that point so I wasn’t lying. But now . . . well, now it has happened, and we don’t want secrets. Anyway,” I continued. “The boys are probably going to be talking about it today, and it’s not fair if they have to hide it in the cars or whatever. So you can tell them, you know.”
“And Ambrose?”
“I’ll ask to meet with him today.”
Amber nodded slowly. “And if he says it’s a deal breaker?”
My stomach knotted. “I . . . I don’t know. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Anyway, I should get back. We have an eight-hour flight tomorrow. If you want to chat, or discuss any concerns, I’m happy to talk.”
Amber gave me a smile and Ryan nodded, and I walked out feeling oddly relieved. I still had to speak to Ambrose and I didn’t know if Amber and Ryan were on my side yet, but they seemed okay with it.
Maybe.
I let myself back into Maddox’s room to find Doctor Hardwick still there, which surprised me. “Oh, everything okay?”
“Yes, yes,” the doc said. “Just wrapping up.”
I went to the fridge and got a bottle of water while the doctor packed away his blood pressure cuff.
“The doc said I’m fine,” Maddox said.
“Hm, well,” Doctor Hardwick replied, picking up his bag. “His blood pressure has come down, but it’s still not where I’d like it.” He gave a pointed look at Maddox. “Continued bed rest for the day. I’ll do another reading in two hours and again tonight.”
“But I’m getting on that plane tomorrow.”
“If it stays down and within the recommended guidelines.” The doctor made his way over toward the door. “Any questions?”
“Can I at least jerk off?”
I choked on my water and the doc shot me a look before turning back to Maddox. “Uh . . .”
“You said no sex,” Maddox added, smiling. “By which I assume you mean nothing to elevate the heart rate too much for a prolonged period of time, like a vigorous—”
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” the doctor clarified. “Nothing vigorous. My suggestion is to just watch a movie, read a book, take a nap.”
Maddox grinned. “But that wasn’t a no.”
The doctor sighed on his way to the door. “If your blood pressure is elevated when I come back in two hours . . .”
I saw the doctor out, and when I came back, Maddox’s grin had widened. “You have two hours to have me sated and sedated, Roscoe.” He tossed the pillow he had resting in his lap and palmed his dick. He began to unbutton his pants. “You better get busy.”
“Sedated?”
“Yeah. So thoroughly wrung out I can’t move.”
I put the bottle of water on the table and walked over to the bed. I kneeled on the mattress and crawled up his body. I held myself off him, looking down. “I told Amber and Ryan.”
His eyes went wide. “You did?”
I nodded. “They were spending the day with the guys. I didn’t want them to have to lie or keep secrets for us.”
“How’d they take it?”
“Pretty good. I think.”
He pulled me by my shirt so my weight settled on him. His legs spread, as did his smile. “You know a day of bedrest doesn’t sound too bad. Now that the doc said sex was okay.”
“He didn’t say that.”
“He said nothing too vigorous.” Maddox rolled his hips and ran his hands down over my ass. “So take your time, Roscoe. Go slow. You’ve got two hours. Make it last.”
We spentthe day in bed. It wasn’t all sex; there was a lot of touching, a lot of cuddling, and snoozing. We ordered room service; we watched some TV. We looked online at what the world was saying about the concert, about Maddox, about him passing out. Now that the hype of all that was mostly over, pictures of Jeremy taking his shirt off on stage were the hot topic. There were a thousand pictures of him, drenched with sweat, muscled torso gleaming under the lights, launching his shirt into the crowd.
Maddox was more than happy to have the spotlight on someone else.
It was mid-afternoon and I was sitting at the table checking my emails and messages. I’d organized a meeting with Ambrose for later this evening. The boys were back at the hotel, and after another visit from Doctor Hardwick, Maddox’s blood pressure was back to normal.
It wasn’t even that we’d had a relaxing day. We’d had a peaceful day . . . a wonderful day.
Maddox sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard like he did, writing in his notebook or strumming on his guitar, then scribbling down chords and words.
The way the sunlight caught his smile, the way he moved his fingers, the way his hair fell down his forehead, how his earrings swayed in time with his music . . .
He was poetry in motion.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked.
“You.” I ignored the heat in my cheeks, the hammering of my heart. He looked happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. “I wish . . . I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
He smiled, obviously surprised by my honesty and the depth of my words. He plucked a chord on his guitar. “And how do you see me?”
“Right now, you’re unguarded. Relaxed. Happy.”
He stared, and maybe I imagined that he gripped his guitar a little harder. “Maybe I am. Happy, that is.”
“I’m glad.”
“I forgot what this felt like,” he admitted, playing a few chords on his guitar. “Just to be me.”
The way he said that hurt my heart.
“I mean,” he shrugged. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. Not really. But when I’m with you . . .” He laughed and strummed his guitar. “I think I feel like me when I’m with you.”
I went over to him and took his guitar, leaning it gently against the bedside table. I sat next to him, took his face in my hands, and kissed him. “I just want you to be happy. Whatever it takes.”
He kissed my palm. “What do you think Ambrose will say?”
I sighed. “The truth? I bet his concerns will be legal and contractual. He’s not going to see the personal side of it. It’s just a business development that he’ll deal with like he deals with everything else.”
Maddox flinched. “We’re not a business development.”
“I know that. I doubt he’ll see it differently.” I shrugged. “He’s a doer and a fixer. He manages everything efficiently and effectively, like a production line. It’s what makes him so good at what he does.”
“You know what would be nice?” he asked. “If people said, ‘Hey, you two are a thing? That’s cool, congrats, man,’ instead of us being a bullet point on a crisis management list.”
I leaned in and kissed him again. “We still have a few hours before we meet with him. Let’s not worry about it until then.”
Except we didn’t have a few hours because there was a knock on the door. I handed Maddox back his guitar. “I’ll go see who it is.” I half expected to see Jeremy through the peephole, but it wasn’t. It was Ambrose. Shit. I opened the door. “Neil,” I said, hoping Maddox would have fair warning. We were both fully dressed, thankfully; me in jeans and a polo, and Maddox was wearing some long lounge pants and a T-shirt.
Ambrose gave me a nod and walked into the room. There were no niceties or greetings. “Thought you’d be here,” he said to me.
Right, then.
Maddox put his guitar down and got off the bed. “I’m supposed to be on bedrest.”
Ambrose nodded. “I know. The doctor said you were much better this afternoon.”
“Yeah.”
“Good. That’s good.” His gaze went from Maddox to me. “Look, something’s come up with the concert production team and there are some logistics issues; I can’t make our meeting tonight. I’m supposed to be on my way to see them now, so I don’t have time to chat. I know what’s going on between you and I’m aware you’ve discussed this with the band members and the other managers.”
Of course he knew.
Of course he did.
“So I brought these.” He put some papers on the table. “One for each of you. Read through them and we can discuss this on the plane tomorrow if you need. I’ve instructed legal you may have questions, and they’re to help in any way possible.”
Maddox and I were speechless.
“I really do apologize for my bluntness. Make a list of anything you want to ask. We will have lunch, just the three of us, when we arrive in Buenos Aires. I’ll make time, I promise.” He walked to the door and turned to face us. “I want you to know Platinum Entertainment supports you.”
He was gone then, leaving us still just standing there, stunned. Well, I was stunned. Maddox was holding the papers Ambrose left with us.
He read the heading on the first page. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
