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

Chapter 21

Twenty-One

S hane

I had to do something, but what, I had no clue. Boone was about to crack and I couldn’t stand to watch it happen.

“You sure you want movers, Pops? I can come help as soon as I’m done up here, which could be anytime.”

Bruce frowned at him. “What happened?”

I didn’t want to make this about me, but perhaps the deflection would give Boone a moment to recover.

“Dean and the guys quit. Tucker’s going to play drums for a pop star, and Dean and Drew are going to attempt to recapture their emo youth playing pop punk.”

“Jesus Almighty,” Bruce breathed. “Can’t say I saw that coming. You talk to Jeff?”

“Actually, I didn’t. My new manager Audra let him know his services were no longer needed, and Slade fired him. Seems I walked into a bit of a minefield and Jeff knew about it, but it’s all good. I’m working with Lydia, trying to decide which direction I want to go. I’ve got to set up an appointment with the label to discuss my future with them. In the meantime…” I smiled at Boone, who’d gone from fake smiling to lost puppy in the span of a few moments. I nudged his foot under the table, and he snapped out of it. “I’ve enlisted Boone and the twins to play Rocktoberfest with me. Instead of a Wicked Soul set, we thought we’d play the old tunes. You know, California, Brothers… What do you think?”

“Oh, Shane, that’s wonderful!” Vera Jean said. “I’d love for you two to make music together. And that brings us to the other thing we wanted to discuss with you. The Collins Foundation benefit. We’d like you both to perform, of course, but we’ve lined up Blackened to be the house band this year, and we’re going to invite a bunch of old friends to perform with them. We’ve already asked Lydia, Morrison, and Leland, and we’re going to ask Aldous Archer and Ozzy if he’s feeling up to it. Bruce is going to organize the rehearsals, and I’ll handle the invites and the usual details. It’ll be an extra-special occasion.” Vera Jean put her hands on the table, and Bruce took them in his.

“It’ll be our engagement party,” he said softly.

I watched Boone’s face morph into horror as he noticed the giant rock on Vera Jean’s ring finger.

“Congratulations,” I said, but my inflection was off, and it sounded as if I was asking if the congratulations were merited rather than bestowing it on the happy couple.

The server appeared just then with a basket of bread and asked for our drink orders. I watched Boone push his hair back with a shaky hand.

“Actually, yeah, can we get a couple of cranberry juices and can you bring out an appetizer of, what, uh…” I looked down at the menu. “Bring us some mozzarella sticks and wings, please? As soon as you can?”

Boone had gone as white as the tablecloth, and Vera Jean patted his arm.

“Boone?” she asked quietly.

“I’m…congratulations.” He gave her a closed-lipped smile.

She nodded and turned back to Pops. He gazed into her eyes and they kissed once more.

“I’ll be right back,” Boone muttered, and he stood from the booth. He caught himself on the edge of it to break his fall and then stumbled down the hallway to the restroom.

Vera Jean’s gaze followed him and for a moment it looked as if she thought to follow him.

“I’m going to go too. It was a long drive out here.”

She opened her mouth to speak and then smiled at me knowingly before turning to smile at Pops.

I trotted after Boone and found him just inside the men’s room, leaning against the wall and trying to get his breathing under control.

“Babe,” I whispered. I locked the door behind us and took him in my arms. “How much of this is your blood sugar and how much is from those fucking bombs they just dropped?”

He stepped back and held up his phone. His glucose monitor showed him at a dangerously low level.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said, brushing his hair away from his now sweaty face. “We’re going to go out there and you’re going to eat. Once we get a little food in you, you should feel a little better, but if not, you just say the word and we’ll go, okay? I’ll take you back and?—”

“I swear, Shane, I’m not doing this on purpose. I tried…it was a shock, but I swear I didn’t mean to make a scene. I’m sorry.”

Tears poured down his face as his whole body started to shake. He hugged himself and started to slide down the wall, but I caught him.

“Do you need to go to the hospital? This is bad, babe.”

“No, please, just help me get it together. Please , Shane.”

“It’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe with me, baby. Just breathe.” I held him against me, wanting to scream from the helplessness.

There was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Butler? It’s your server. Ms. Collins said you might need the juice?”

I opened the door and took the glass of juice from him. “Thanks,” I said, closing and locking the door again. “Here, Boone. Drink some of this.”

He reached for the glass with both hands, and I held it for him as he brought it to his mouth. He took a couple of sips and then he started coughing. Before I could ask, he pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and took two puffs. Once he stopped coughing, he leaned back against the wall and reached for the glass again.

“You’re doing great,” I murmured. “So great. You’re going to be okay.” My words were calm but I was freaking out. This was too close. I thought to myself, what if he’d been alone? And then my chest cracked open.

He was alone.

Vera Jean’s relationship with my grandfather was absolutely perfect for them, and they deserved all the happiness, but Boone had isolated himself from everyone else, including, to an extent, his bandmates, who had no idea how sick he was. If he moved out of Vera Jean’s, he would be on his own whenever they weren’t on tour. I know he was determined to do this all by himself and not let the world know, but I knew, and I would not abandon him. I would stand by him, take care of him if he insisted on pretending he had it all under control.

I wanted to take care of him.

“I’m sorry, Shane?—”

“Don’t ever apologize to me for being sick,” I said in the calmest voice I could muster. “But you let me in, so whether you like it or not, I’m going to take care of you, Boone. You’re not going to go through this on your own, okay? Don’t even try to be stubborn about it, because I’m more stubborn than you.”

He chuckled against my chest. “You are pretty stubborn.”

“Damn right, I am. I take care of what’s mine, remember? And you’re mine. I want you to be mine.”

He finally looked up at me, and my previous conversation with Lydia came back to me. Those eyes. I had no clue whether or not he’d ever had therapy to deal with the trauma from his childhood, but there was no doubt that the scared little boy who’d watched his mother die, who’d spent hours with her afterward, alone…he was still in there. And he’d had the rug pulled out from under him just now, sorta like I had the day before, although my situation was a lot less traumatic. I was going to be fine. I was going to make sure Boone would be fine too.

“I hate that you’re seeing me like this,” he said, reaching for a paper towel to dry his face. “Once upon a time, I could handle my shit.”

“You still can,” I said. “Taking care of you doesn’t mean doing it all for you. You’ll lean on me when you need to, and together we can figure out how to get you stable. Diabetes is hard to manage, especially by yourself. Lean on me, Boone. Let me take care of you.”

“Goddammit, Butler,” he said. “This would all be so much easier if you still hated me.”

“But I don’t. I never did. And it’s not going to be easy, especially since those two out there are trying to age us before our time.”

I knew that would get a laugh from him. “I found a gray hair! The morning after their date. Can you believe it?”

I shrugged and deadpanned, “I wouldn’t know about that.”

That was what he needed to let go. He threw his arms around my neck and held on tight as he took several deep breaths.

“I don’t know how this happened, but thank God for you, Shane.”

“Well, don’t thank Him yet,” I said, pulling away from him. “We still have to get through this dinner. I might clobber Pops with a damn mozzarella stick if he keeps making eyes at your gran.”

“Seriously, how are we the adults?”

“I don’t know. I am pretty mature, though.”

“Right,” he said with a snort. “You’re the eldest.” His smile slipped. “I feel like there have been a lot of bombs at that table already tonight. Maybe we don’t tell them about us yet. And please don’t take that as anything other than my messy ass can’t handle any more drama tonight.”

“You know I like you messy. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll still call me babe?”

I kissed him once, just enough to take him out of his head and hopefully get us through the rest of this meal. “You ready to do this, babe?”

He smiled—not that face-breaking fake one he’d had plastered on—and took a deep breath.

“I am now.”

When we made it back to the table, the hors d’oeuvres had arrived and our grandparents looked admonished. We took our seats, and I hated that I couldn’t sit beside him without making a big fuss.

“Did the server find you?” Vera Jean asked, and she gave Boone a pointed look. It was obvious that she was trying to help him save face.

“He did, thank you.” And then he turned to Bruce. “I’m newly diabetic, and I’m having trouble getting my sugars managed.”

So fucking brave. I couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that to the man he said he worried didn’t like him. It was a rare moment that Boone allowed himself to appear vulnerable, and I knew how difficult it had to have been for him to make that admission.

Pops’s expression melted to one of sympathy. “I feel your pain. I don’t think I would have been able to get mine managed without Shane’s help. He took over planning all of my meals, got me exercising. I finally got in shape at sixty-nine years old, thanks to him.” He patted my shoulder, turned back to Boone and, bless him, he spent the rest of the meal talking about tips and tricks that helped us get his diabetes under control. This allowed Boone to eat his salad and salmon and get himself under control.

Vera Jean kept looking over at him, and I was glad to see her paying closer attention to her grandson. She’d pat his hand, move his hair back from his shoulder, or give his back a gentle rub. I hoped they were able to have a good conversation in private about all of these changes.

“So where are you staying?” I asked Pops.

“We got a room at the Crystal Hotel.”

“Did you need me to come pick you up tomorrow?” Boone asked Vera Jean.

“Oh, thank you, dear boy, but we drove up here. That’s why I canceled the flight, which, thank you for setting that up.”

“You drove? What did you drive?” I asked them. Pops’s car was old. I hated the idea of him driving at all, much less in that old hooptie.

“We brought the Corvette,” Vera Jean said with a sneaky grin. “Bruce had it serviced and it drove like a dream.”

Boone and I looked at each other in shock. Oh, seventy-agers. They were going to make us both old before our time. Thankfully the server came up at that moment, and I handed him my card. We needed to get out of here before this conversation went further south.

“Great,” I finally said. “Well, Boone and I should head back.” I stood up, feeling my hold on the Metal Menace slipping. “Boone has an early day tomorrow.”

“I hope your sessions are going well?” Vera Jean asked Boone as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Good. Yes, thank you.”

“We’ll see you boys tomorrow,” Pops said, standing and giving me a hug.

“Be safe,” I said to him, giving him a raised eyebrow.

He grinned bashfully. “Sure thing.”

I fought the desire to roll my eyes. I needed to get Boone in the car and get him back to the lodge. I needed to hold him. It would go a long way toward making everything okay again.

We made it out to the parking lot, gave more hugs and kisses, and we went our separate ways. I walked beside Boone and then opened his door to the van. He gave me a small smile and climbed into the passenger seat. He turned to me and sighed.

“She didn’t comment on the hickey.”

“Hard to notice when she’s sucking face with my pops.”

He exhaled out his nose and nodded.

Fuck, I hated to see him so sad.I handed him my phone. “Play something.”

He tapped the screen and frowned. “What’s your password?”

“Boone.”

I put the van in drive and pulled out of the parking spot. I glanced over at him when I realized he hadn’t started the music.

He was holding the phone against his chest with his eyes closed.

“You good?”

He nodded, but he didn’t speak.

A moment later “Still Remains” from Stone Temple Pilots came on. Only one of the most beautiful love songs ever written.

“Perfect,” I said as I pulled onto SE Tacoma which would lead us toward the 205 Interstate and back to Bolder Breed.

“It’s always been a favorite,” he murmured. “Hits harder tonight.”

My heart bottomed out. Sweet Boone. He was so sad, and I had no idea if I could be enough for him, but dammit I was going to give it my all.

We were mostly quiet the rest of the drive home. He’d queued up more similar songs, many lesser-known songs that were brilliant. How did I not know we vibed so well together? How had he been under my nose this whole time, and I was too busy letting my ego keep him in a blind spot?

No more. My eyes were open. My heart was ready.

I parked the van and turned to find him snoozing in the seat, his knees pulled up to his chest. Like a child curling up for safety.

I tried to open and shut my door quietly, and when I opened his, he sat up with a start, letting his legs down as he looked around, confused.

“Come here,” I said, ready to carry him.

He smiled sleepily. “Thanks for driving.” He held my hand as he stepped down and came to me as I pulled him in close. “Stay with me?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” I answered, kissing his forehead. Together we climbed the steps to the lodge, and then the stairs to his room. At his door, he unlocked it and stepped inside. He pulled his clothes off and climbed into bed with his back to me.

He’d told the truth. He was sans boxers.

I stripped down to mine, crawled in next to him and touched his back.

“Spoon, please?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” I said again. I curled up to his body and wrapped my arms around him, loving how he snuggled against me and sighed.

“Shane?”

“Yeah, babe?” I nuzzled the back of his neck through his hair and sighed happily.

He didn’t answer right away, as if he was trying to think of the right thing to say.

“I don’t know why you’re still here, but I’m so fucking grateful it scares me.”

“Get used to it.” I felt the pull of sleep and kissed his shoulder before settling in to what had become my favorite place.

He exhaled a shaky breath and whispered so low, I’m not sure he intended me to hear. “I don’t know if I can.”