“Yeah.”
“If something’s wrong, you can talk to me, ya know.”
“I know,” Kit said, gnawing on his lip. “Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t.
Nine months later, he showed up, crying on his porch.
Cunt.
She told him he’d never amount to anything.
It took another eight years, but Kit proved her wrong.
Venery released their first studio album and made it big.
Shaking his head at the stoplight, Matt gazed at the building where Mickey’s once was. Empty now, a “For Rent” sign was taped inside the grime-covered window. It was a boba tea shop for a while, but the place never took off. Gentrification hadn’t spread this far east of Coventry Park when it was there. Now, the building looked rundown and out of place. Someone would have to throw a lot of money into rehabbing it to make it marketable again. He wondered if people still lived in the apartments above the storefront.
It wasn’t often he came this way since the turnoff to Park Place was eight blocks west of here, but he missed his exit on the Kennedy. Some asswipe in a fucking Tesla wouldn’t let him over.
The light turned green. The old building disappeared from his rearview mirror but not the memories.
Shit changes.
Back then, he couldn’t get laid, no matter how hard he tried. And now? He didn’t even have to. Chicks from fifteen to fifty threw themselves at him. Took all the fun out of it, though. He missed the hunt. The thrill of the chase. The only thing they wanted was bragging rights, anyway. To tell all their friends they got fucked by a rock star.
“Heh.” Over that groupie shit, Matt patted his dick. “They can suck it, but they don’t get to fuck it no more. Ain’t that right?”
These days, he did most of his fucking at the Red Door. And even that was getting old. At thirty-four, so was he. It was about time he found himself a nice girl to make babies with, wasn’t it?
Taylor and Bo found one.
But that was a fluke.
Nice girls don’t end up with rock stars.
Especially not someone like him.
Matt woke up feeling like utter shit.
Last night was one helluva night.
Chloe’s twenty-fifth birthdayandthe Eros party at the Red Door—need he say more? It’s not like he made fucking his bandmates or their girlfriends a habit, but Bo did ask him to. He couldn’t blame it on the alcohol, either. Matt was only on his second drink when he followed them into that private alcove.
The truth? He wanted to.
The real question was,why?
Yes, Ava was a lovely girl, and yes, Matt was attracted to her. But she wasn’t his. And while he fucked a dude now and then, he wasn’t into Bo—or men in general—though he loved the guy. He couldn’t explain it, but when Venery’s drummer whispered the request in his ear, his dick got hard.
Bo didn’t have to ask him twice.
Would he do it again?Yeah, maybe.
On the regular?Hell, no.
He understood that what Chloe, Jesse, and Taylor had together was a rare and beautiful thing, but it wasn’t for him.
