Feuds and Interludes (Rock ‘n’ Romance Legends #1)

Chapter 17

Seventeen

S hane

My heart thudded in my chest as I realized how much I’d revealed of myself to Boone. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been close to people before, but never another musician, never one I respected like I did Boone. I’d chosen safe men in the past, ones who couldn’t touch my core, the part of me where creation came from, where I held in all of my truths and fears. Boone had already clawed his way in, and I’d thrown the doors open for him in response.

The truth was that I wanted him to be a safe space, but that didn’t mean he would be. Well, it was out there now, my fucking scaredy-cat truth. We’d see what he’d do with it.

My grandfather’s actions in his life were clearer to me now. I didn’t know whether he ever had feelings for John Boone more than as a best friend, but I wondered if maybe he might have. It would explain why he’d tolerated all of the heartache, if only to get close to this type of harmony with another person. I didn’t doubt that he’d loved Vera Jean, continued to love her after all these years, but if John was anything like Boone, so vibrant, honest, and compelling…queer or not, their relationship made a bit more sense to me now. Not only did I want to fuck Boone, but I wanted to make music with him—which, to me, was an even bigger revelation.

I didn’t make music with other people. I played in bands, but that wasn’t the same thing. Letting someone in on my creative process was too intimate, too close. The only person I’d ever written with was Pops. My talk with Lydia yesterday had been a huge step, and she’d been so careful with me. Probably I wasn’t the first hotheaded, control freak, megalomaniac songwriter she’d ever dealt with.

Damn, that made me sound even more like my mother. Maybe I owed her, not quite an apology, but a little empathy.

Boone shivered and curled up against my chest. “You want to take this someplace a little warmer?” His teeth started chattering, and he had goose bumps all over his chest where I was currently exploring.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.” I pulled him against me, hating any separation. What the hell was I going to do when it was time to leave here?

“Let me text Gran and tell her we’ll see them for dinner tomorrow.” He pulled out his phone and then shoved it back in his pants with a grin. “We may need to stop at REI, though, so I can get a fuckton of turtlenecks. Gran will give me so much shit about these love bites. Do you know Leland sang every song about love bites ever written all day today?”

He wasn’t mad, though. He was smiling so wide and there was a bounce to his step that made my heart unclench a little. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe I didn’t need to be so afraid.

“Hey, Boone.” What the hell, why not just welcome him deep inside my terrordome. “I had an idea.”

“Tell me,” he said, looking up at me with a blissed-out gaze that had me wondering what he’d look like when I finally got to bend him over a surface. That booth we’d sat in last night in the lodge would be a good height.

“Shane?”

“Sorry. I was just thinking of how hot you looked when we made that mess last night.”

“Cold or not, you keep talking like this and I’ll perform an encore right here, right now.”

I laughed, pulling him against me and kissing the top of his head.

“Good to know. Seriously, though, I know I’ve got a lot to contemplate, but there’s one thing I’d love for us to work out together.”

“Elevated Splits? Or Folded Deck Chair? I would need to stretch out real good first, but we could probably— Oh, did you mean something else?”

My jaw hung open and I’d stopped walking. “Elevated what ?”

Boone gave a dismissive shrug and grabbed my hand to drag me forward. “You know, like I’m in the splits on top of a counter or something, and you?—”

“You can do the splits ?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah. I took ballet for a while. Gran had this thought that I might use my vocal talents on Broadway someday instead of that ‘rock ’n’ roll rubbish.’ Of course she loved Papa’s music, but she had bigger plans for me.” He sure mimicked her British accent perfectly. “Ballet has its perks. I can also still put my leg behind my— What?”

I reached down to adjust the monster in my pants, straining to get out and do whatever Folded Deck Chair was with Boone. “You can’t say these things. Seriously, how do you…where…who decided on these names?”

“Oh,” he said, all nonchalant as he kept walking beside me with that pep in his step that made his curls bounce on his shoulders. Damn, I had hair envy more than ever. At least he didn’t mind me playing with it. I wanted to have it spread all over me like right now. “I’ve read a couple of books about sexual positions,” he was saying. “There are a couple of good websites too. I’m happy to show you. We can try whichever ones you want, I’ll do my best?—”

“Whoa, whoa, Boone.” I pulled him to a stop at the edge of the orchard and held his arms. “When we fuck? It’s not a performance. You don’t have to do anything except tell me what you like and don’t like and be there a hundred percent with me, okay? Sex doesn’t have to be acrobatic or choreographed to be great. It just has to feel good.”

“Oh.” He smiled at me but it was unsure again. “I just want you to be happy with me.”

“I’m wild about you, Boone,” I said, cradling his face in my hands. “But I wanted to ask you…are you guys playing Rocktoberfest?”

He blinked up at me in confusion. “Like, in the desert? Black Rock City? No. We’ve never been invited. I always assumed we weren’t hard enough for them, or maybe they had an issue with the gay thing?—”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how many of those bands like dick? I mean, seriously.”

“Sounds like a party.” I could tell he was teasing, but he also seemed confused. “Why do you ask?”

I cleared my throat and stood up straight, dropping my hands. “Well, since my band just broke up with me and we’re scheduled to play, I’m kind of in a bind. But also…how cool would it be for Collins Butler to play a set of the old guys’ songs at Rocktoberfest?”

“Butler Collins,” he said.

“What? No, it should be your name first.”

He shook his head. “It sounds better with your name first. It’s the alphabet, people expect things. Besides, you’re older and more established. So wait, you mean play California songs?”

“Yeah.” I laughed, of course he’d have a whole thesis about the name. “And John Boone’s solo stuff and Brothers, maybe a song or two of ours.”

“And ‘Paisley’?”

I grinned. “I would love to sing it with you. I think the thing that bugged me the most about the ceremony was that I wanted to be the one sharing the mic with you, not Pops.”

Boone burst out laughing and threw his arms around me.“I think it would be a blast!” But then he straightened and cleared his throat. “I’d have to ask the Thompson Twins though.”

“Why? Wait! Is that seriously their last name?”

Boone chuckled. “They’re not The Thompson Twins, but they’re my Thompson twins. I wouldn’t want to make any commitments without them. They’re my band, my best friends.”

“Let’s ask them to play with us. You guys sounded great at the ceremony. You mind letting this old metalhead tagalong?”

This time, Boone hopped up into my arms and wrapped his legs around me and he laughed as he kissed me. I spun him around, rejoicing in his reaction. I loved how he let his feelings out so freely. I was beginning to realize just how much I had to learn from him.

“I would fucking love to play with you, Shane Butler. Let’s make some beautiful fucking music together.”

Our excitement waned a bit when we sat down after dinner with Annie and Brandon, who faced us with arms crossed identically over their chests.

“Would this be a one-time thing?” Annie asked. “Because I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to a polyamorous gig moving forward.”

“A poly- what now?”

“Look what happened to Fleetwood Mac,” Brandon said.

“No one is suggesting?—”

“And The Mamas and Papas,” Annie said. “What would we be? Mama and the Three Papas? I’m not into the reverse harem thing. Uh uh. I don’t think so.”

“Wait—”

I looked to Boone for assistance, but he was just staring blankly at the twins. Awesome. Way to throw me to the wolves.

“And no offense? But I’ve seen all the leather Wicked Soul wears, and that shit chafes,” Brandon said.

“No one said anything about leather?—”

“And if you think I’m going to ride on some gay orgy bus cross country or, like, play some Taylor Swift break-up anthems every time you two fight?—”

“That’s going way too far.” Before I could argue any more, the three of them burst into laughter. Boone fell on the floor and Brandon started snorting repeatedly.

“What the hell?”

Annie shrugged at me and examined her painted nails. “Just making sure you can handle us, Butler.”

“Taylor Swift!” Boone cried from the floor, where he was rolling around, holding his stomach. “You should have seen your face!” He held out his hand for me to help him up and then he plopped into my lap and put his arms around my neck, lightly massaging my head. “I do like you in leather pants, though.”

I grabbed his hips, ready to push him off, but he held me tight and Annie gave me a big smile.

“All right, all right, you had your fun.”

“It’s all fun and games ’til someone gets hurt, metal boy. Just remember. We have a reputation for enacting excruciatingly painful revenge. You hurt our Boone, you suffer the consequences. Dig?”

She held out a hand and I half expected it to have a buzzer on the palm that would zing me when I touched her. I took her hand and fought not to wince when she squeezed it with more force than a five-foot-eight, buck-thirty-pound mixed girl should be able to muster. Brandon was a bit beefier, with an impressive Afro, but not even as tall as Boone. We were going to make an interesting picture on stage…that is if they actually agreed to do it.

“So are we doing this?” Boone asked. “Rocktoberfest?”

Brandon looked at his sister and then to Boone before leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed once more. “For starters. We’ll see if you can keep up.” And with that, he leaned too far and fell over backwards in the chair.

Boone scrambled up and Annie started shouting at him.

“I’m all right, I’m all right, geez!” He scrambled to his feet and back into the chair, trying to look like nothing happened.

“None of this works with a broken drummer, Bran,” Boone said as he sat back in his chair beside me. He rested his elbows on the table next to mine and leaned his head against my shoulder.

“Four on the floor, Thompson,” I said to him, shaking my head.

He gave me an incredulous look and then nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, all right.”

“Now. Schedule,” Boone said, looking to all three of us. “We’re booked up here three more weeks. I’d love it if we could finish recording these tracks over the next week, work our asses off, so we can start rehearsing with Shane. Does that work for everyone? Shane? Does that give us enough time?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Plus, I’ve got to unfuck my situation, call my lawyer and all that.” I ran a hand over my head, and Boone put his arms around me.

“I’ll help,” he murmured. “However I can.”

Somehow, I knew he would.

“Yeah, and if you need some muscle, you know,” Annie said, cracking her knuckles, “we gotchoo. In certain cases, we rent out our revenge services.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”