“My band. Dragonfly. We’re playing at the Dome next Thursday.”
My brain explodes a little bit. The Dome is the same place the NHL team I’m contracted to plays their games. It’s the big arena in town that all the biggest shows get booked into. How the hell can Jude be playing at the Dome of all places? I don’t even get to play there yet. “Dude. Oakley said you were living in some garage, making music and working at some burger joint.”
He snorts a derisive laugh. “Of course he’d fucking say that. Oakley is too self-absorbed to realize that other people moved on too.” I don’t say a word, because I don’t trust myself not to try and dig details out of him that he clearly doesn’t want to give. “Do you play that night? If not, would you like to come to the show? I’ll leave backstage passes with security for you so you can watch without anyone bothering you.”
“Hell yes,” I reply. Aside from getting to watch a concert, I haven’t seen Jude in years, and we used to be pretty close. Not like me and Oakley, but close enough that I used to consider him like a little brother. I glance over at Shiloh, a smile forming on my lips as he stares at me in confusion and question. “I’ll be there, but can I get two passes?”
“You can’t bring him. I don’t want to see him, Donovan. If he shows up, I’ll fucking kick you both out and never call you again.”
“Not Oakley,” I blurt, as his breathing on the other end of the call turns a bit panicky and I can tell he’s freaked out. “I want to bring… someone else. My… uh…”
Shiloh raises his eyebrow at my hesitation and sits back, arms crossed and a small smirk playing on the edges of his lips.
“Boyfriend?” I squeak out as he huffs a small noise at me from the other end of the couch.
“Boyfriend?” Jude soundshappy. “You finally found someone.”
“Oakley said the same thing.” The words leave my mouth before I can really think them through, and I’m rewarded with a sharp inhale of breath on the other end of the call. Somehow, I’ve again fallen into whatever the fuck this is between my best friend and his step-brother. I wish there weren’t so many damn landmines in these conversations. “Sorry, Jude. My bad. But yeah, I found someone.”
“Two passes,” he comments. “It’ll be good to see you again, Donovan. I… miss you.”
“I miss you too, Rudey Judey.”
He snorts a laugh at the old nickname, and we end the conversation promising to see each other soon. When I’m off the phone, I turn to Shiloh and grin.
“What’s that for?” he asks, his tone flat though slightly suspicious.
“I’m taking you on a date,” I comment, leaning back against the couch. “My old friend Jude’s band is apparently playing the Dome on Thursday.”
Shiloh hums thoughtfully under his breath, but he doesn’t ask anything I anticipate him asking. Instead, he hits me with, “Your boyfriend, huh?”
“Yeah. If you want. I don’t… definitions suck shit, right? But people want to know who you are to me, and I want to tell them we’re together. Or dating. Or… I don’t know. Something.”
“But not everyone, right?” he offers.
I inhale a deep breath, but I have to nod. “Not everyone. I’m sorry. It can’t be everyone, Shiloh. I wish it could, but it can’t right now.”
“It’s fine by me,” he comments with a shrug. “We all have secrets, Donovan. I’m not going to begrudge you yours.”
I nod, because he’s not wrong at all. Some of us have more than others, though, and as Shiloh picks up his book off the floor and stands like he’s getting ready to leave, I can’t help but wonder how many skeletons hide in his closet.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHILOH
I’ve never beenon a date before. It’s a weird realization to have as I stand in front of my closet and stare at all my clothes, wondering if one of my paint-spattered T-shirts is date-appropriate clothing.
At least it’s a concert. I listened to the band Donovan named when I got back to my apartment, and the music sounded about as grungy as my attire, so…
I have no idea what I’m doing, and the realization makes something in my stomach twist uncomfortably. I shouldn’t be doing this atall, I do know that much.
Whatever this is with Donovan… whatever the way he looks at me is. Whatever the feel of his mouth pressed to mine and the heat of him does to me…
It’s not safe.
And I don’tcare.
Boyfriend. I’d apparently throw away everything just to hear him say that word.
