Twelve
One, two,three, four, five. Yep, jeans accounted for. Shirts packed. Henri lifted a prescription bottle from the dresser—still half full. He hadn’t taken a single emergency pill since Sebastian had challenged him to address the issues and not merely mask the symptoms.
Now to do a quick e-mail check before shutting down his computer.
Tessa had sent him a link to a YouTube video of her playing her bowls. The caption read: “For H.” When he got back to LA he owed her dinner, flowers, or something. Or maybe he’d cough up those concert tickets. If he ever found another band to have a concert with. He didn’t even notice his own smile at her closed-eyed playing until his lips turned down as he searched through his other e-mails.
Nothing from his sister. Whatever happened to the sweet little girl who’d wanted to be a doctor and save people? Had Margo succeeded in corrupting her? He Googled “Jenni Lafontaine.” Nothing. Ahh…. Too simple, and surely Mom would capitalize on her famous son’s name.
Henri clicked a link for “Genevieve Lafontaine,” a listing offering an icon resembling Jenni. Holy crap! A barely dressed young woman appeared onscreen in a provocative pose. Take away the makeup and teased-up hair, which added ten years, and the model would be his kid sister.
Henri closed the browser. No, no, no, no, no. As much as he enjoyed making music, doing what he wanted to do, why did he have to pay so heavy a price? Most of his friends had sold him out—except for the one his mother ditched for not being pretty enough. His family had their hands out. Why couldn’t life be simple, like it used to be? Oh, yeah,hislife had stopped being simple the day he’d invaded America’s living rooms via a talent show. Before then the highlight of his weekend had been hanging out in the garage with his friends, trying to be a band. Sometimes his lyrics had sucked, other times they hadn’t, but he’d thrown himself into the creation. Like Seb did his singing.
He powered down and stashed his laptop in its case. Pining over days long gone wouldn’t help anybody. He shoved his laptop case into its bag. Power cord? Check. Phone charger? Check? Meds? Check. Everything that mattered.
Except for Seb.
It being Monday, Henri had the house to himself for packing. Sebastian didn’t have to watch him lugging his things out to the trailer.
Afterward, he sat alone in the music room, the grandfather clock ticking off the minutes. A car rumbled up the driveway, Seb home at last. No way to leave without saying good-bye.
“I didn’t know you’d still be here.” Was that hope in Seb’s eyes?
“What? You’d let me leave without a good-bye kiss?”
Seb’s bittersweet smile did nothing to dispel the gloom. “I’d prefer it be hello.”
Henri crossed the floor and wrapped his arms around the man who’d come to mean something to him over the past few weeks. “I don’t want to go.”
Seb’s eyes appeared a bit moist. “I don’t want you to go.”
No. Seb couldn’t possibly be as sad about their parting as Henri. An idea hit. Not a viable one, but better than nothing. “Come with me.”
“Stay.”
They shared a sigh. Both had careers to return to. “I’ll call you.”
“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Sebastian’s attempt at a smile fell short of sincere.
“No. You’re the first.” Their lips met. Henri swallowed hard to dislodge the tight ball of worry in his throat. Was this truly good-bye, or “bye for now”?
When they parted, Sebastian released him in more ways than one. “I know how it is. If you get back to LA and those pretty boys, and don’t think of me again, I’ll understand.” He stared at the floor.
Henri wanted to deny it, but Seb wouldn’t believe him. Hell, the Henri from a month ago wouldn’t have either. “You might understand, but I wouldn’t. I’ve done some pretty dumbass things in my life, but forgetting you would be downright stupid. Besides….” Henri reached down to the settee to retrieve Seb’s helmet. “I’m leaving this with you so we can ride the next time I visit.”
Seb paled. “No! You can’t leave it here. Take it with you.” His moment of panic faded. “I mean, what if it’s me who visits you? Keep it with the bike and we’ll always have it if we need it.” Sebastian made a poor liar, but who was Henri to question? While they’d certainly enjoyed each other, they’d made no declarations or promises. And maybe Sebastian had a trail of admirers waiting. A knife twisted in Henri’s gut, one he’d never admit to.
“Okay,” he finally said. So this was it, then.He gave Seb one final kiss before heading out the door. Sebastian stood on the front porch, growing smaller and smaller in Henri’s rearview mirror, and didn’t stop waving until he faded from sight.
Before driving five miles Henri stopped at a scenic overlook and rummaged through his saddle bag for his Turtle Fur. One couldn’t be too careful when making a living with their voice. The fleecy throat warmer smelled of Sebastian.
Trees, as far as the eye could see, blue sky, puffy clouds. The perfect day to ride… back to LA. No fresh air, no majestic Rockies.
No Sebastian Unger.
No way. No fucking way could he leave. Not now. Not with a dark cloud hanging over him and the best man he’d found in a long, long time wanting him there.
Henri pulled out his cell phone and called his manager. “Lucas? Seb and I are busy working on the new songs. I’m gonna need some more time.” He turned the bike around.
