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

Chapter 33

Shane

“The package has arrived.”

When word came through my in-ears that Boone and the twins had arrived, I sighed with relief, but then panicked.

“Copy,” I answered.

“You good?”

Danny Black, lead singer for metal gods Blackened, patted me on the shoulder. He’d been so much fun to work with for this event. He and his wife, choreographer Jesse Martin-Black, had become a Hollywood power couple when it came to organizing fundraisers like this, and Danny, it turned out, was a massive fan of Brothers’ music.

“I’m…wow, I don’t know.”

It had taken me a full month to realize just how badly I’d fucked up with Boone. Four therapy sessions, six Al-Anon meetings, and thirty-six postcards from all over Europe later, I’d been ready to accept my licks and plan for how to get him back. I’d thought Boone would go off and forget about me, or he’d remember how much of a jackass I’d been. When I finally called him, ready to grovel, I’d realized that he deserved so much more than that. I didn’t want to discuss our relationship over the phone. I wanted to make a grand gesture in person.

And how else would a bonehead musician do that but to write a song and sing it in front of their collective friends and family?

It sounded good in theory. It was the stuff of romance novels. It was also taking a big chance, and I think by now, I’ve established how not great I tend to be about taking chances.

Go me.

“You ready, big guy?”

Leland and Morrison were there with hugs, and so was Lydia. They’d all be playing with Blackened, as well as Aldous Archer, and even Pops and Mack from Brothers.

And then my dumb ass was going to get up and sing a fucking ballad to the man I loved with all of my heart and hope he’d forgive me, come home with me, and, if all went well, agree to marry me.

God, just thinking the words made my legs buckle. It helped to see that Pops was just as nervous about marrying Vera Jean, despite the fact he’d spent the majority of his life in love with her.

“Son, you’re going to have times when you’re apart, times when your career is in the toilet and his is in the stars, but that’s when you’ll be the closest. That’s when you’ll need him and he’ll be there for you. He’s already proved that he loves you. Ye can’t spend yer whole life hiding from things you can’t control.”

For an old man who’d made many mistakes in his life, he sure had great advice.

It had been his idea for me to invite my mother to the gala, and shockingly, she’d agreed. She’d arrived the day before with my stepfather, and the three of us had gone into Portland for dinner. It had gone well, actually, and we agreed to keep the lines of communication open. She’d had a civil conversation with Vera Jean as well, and I think she was coming around to the idea that Pops was truly living a happy and healthy life.

The show went off without a hitch. Aldous acted as a lovable yet unhinged emcee, as well as performing one of the massive hits he’d recorded with Morrison and Leland a couple years ago, which resurrected his career. He kept everyone in stitches, and I was laughing my ass off when he started talking about me.

“Along with creating some of the biggest rock songs of the seventies, Bruce Duncan had himself a lovely little family. His daughter Christina is here—hello darling. Love to buy you a drink after the show. Oh, and her long-suffering husband Arman, so lovely to see you again. If you need a good financial advisor, they’re the two to see.”

I peeked out and saw Mom rolling her eyes but clapping begrudgingly. Aldous was one of those guys who was so wrong but you couldn’t help but love him.

“Thankfully for Bruce’s grandson, Shane, Bruce’s stubborn Irish temper seems to have skipped—oh, that’s right. It didn’t skip him. Our firebrand, Shane Butler, has torched the airwaves with his band Wicked Soul, and rumor has it, there’s been some sheet-scorching recently as well. Ahem, but this is a family show, so I won’t go into the prevalence of love bites around this place. Perhaps there’s a colony of vampire bats living here. Lydia, Morrison, you should have that checked out.”

“Har har,” I said to myself, as I pulled my acoustic guitar on over my head.

“Without further ado, let’s welcome Shane Butler to the stage.”

The guys from Blackened all passed me as I took the stage, clapping me on the shoulder. They’d come back in a few moments to accompany me on the last song of the show.

I approached Aldous and he held his arms out for a hug. He kissed me on the cheek, patted my other one and turned to the audience. “Look at this handsome lad. If only I were thirty years younger—oh, hello Boone! Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary brethren, say hello to the other grandson, Boone Collins.”

Boone’s cheeks flushed, and he stood and waved. He was stunning in that blue suit. I’d asked Vera Jean to bring it for him, as well as the shoes, which she bitched about. Turned out she wasn’t a fan. Thankfully, she and I had reached a place in our relationship where we could work as a team, both in taking care of Pops and, I hoped, supporting Boone. I felt bad that I’d ever doubted her motives for getting involved with my beloved grandfather. They were good for each other. If they could put the past behind them, I could too.

I wasn’t used to seeing Boone with his hair pulled back so tightly. Occasionally he threw his thick hair up in some sort of bun, but today it was expertly braided, and the look enhanced his widow’s peak and cheekbones. And those giant blue eyes.

God, I was so in love with him. I’d missed him more than I thought possible. We’d gotten close so quickly, and when him going out on tour seemed like a maybe-someday thing, I thought it would be good for us to have some space. Turned out maybe someday happened really fucking fast, and I’d managed to screw it all up. My ego used the time to recover and my rational side reminded me of reality. I could love Boone and still be frustrated with my career. The two were separate, and if someday the two merged, if we continued to work on material together, then I would have to shove that ego back in the box where it belonged.

Boone was more important than my bruised pride.

But I could see that Boone was struggling. His face was pale and he had circles under his eyes. I knew he’d been dragging the past few weeks, and I wanted to curse out his manager for agreeing to Australia and Japan right after Europe. It was too much for him. Hopefully my elaborate gesture would go over well, and he’d let me take him home and nurse him back to health.

“Take it away, Shane. I’ll just be over here keeping out of trouble.” The whole audience laughed riotously while Aldous faked shock. “It could happen. I’m a redeemed man, didn’t you know?” He winked and then gestured for me to take the mic.

“Thank you, Aldous, and thank all of you for being here. The Collins Foundation has done so much good for our rock ’n’ roll family, and I’m pleased that Pops and I could join Vera Jean and Boone this year to help raise funds to support our fellow musicians who are struggling financially due to health-related expenses. We never know when we might get that diagnosis, have an accident, or struggle with our mental health, and as a community, we need to support each other, lift each other up.”

There was strong applause, a few shouts, and everyone in the amphitheater seemed tuned into my words. Boone watched me intently, with Annie and Bran beside him looking just as wrecked. Part of me wanted to call an end to the show and let them go to bed, but I had one more thing to say first.

“I know most of you are used to seeing me with an electric guitar in front of a massive Marshall stack, but my purpose today is a bit more heartfelt.” I strummed the guitar, taking a deep breath. “The past year has been special for many reasons. John Boone was inducted into the Rock Hall.” I paused for applause. “Pops decided to let us in on the real meaning behind ‘Paisley.’ Thanks for that. And congratulations to Pops and Vera Jean on their impending nuptials.” Laughter, applause, and whistles filled the air.

“For me, this year has been special because I finally discovered what an incredible person Boone Collins is. Yeah, I know I’m late to the party, and I’m going to ask you to bear with me for a minute while I do a little groveling.”

Everyone laughed, and Boone put his hands over his mouth, which didn’t hide his flushed cheeks. Good.

“For various no good, very bad reasons, I spent my formative years bitter and angry.” Feigned shock from the audience got me a few laughs. “I know, right? Those of you who’ve known me my whole life, my apologies. It wasn’t until I formed my band Wicked Soul that I learned how to channel that anger into an acceptable outlet. It worked, for the most part, but that temper Aldous mentioned? Yeah, I come by it genetically.” I shrugged. “But whatever my reason or excuse, any time Boone’s name came up, I found that little green monster peeking it’s ugly head up, and over the years, I judged him erroneously.

“Then our grandparents started dating.” I dramatically rolled my eyes, and everyone cracked up. “You can imagine the conversations Boone and I had when it became apparent we were going to be seeing a lot more of each other didn’t go smoothly at first.

“Then both Stellar and Wicked Soul were booked simultaneously up here at Bolder Breed last summer. It appeared the universe was trying to tell me something. I finally got to witness the magic Boone makes when he’s in the studio, and I was blown away. The man is truly a wonder.”

A long, steady, thunderous applause rang out, until Boone was peeking up at me with narrowed eyes. I kinda liked watching him squirm.

“Then my band broke up with me.”

A shocked gasp.

“But it’s fine,” I said quickly, holding up my hands. “The market has changed, people change, and I wish my former bandmates well. In the wake of that event, I found a new songwriting partner…and along the way, I fell in love with him.”

There was a loud chorus of awwwwww , followed by more applause and laughter.

“And, in true Shane Butler fashion, I managed to mess that up. But today, in true songwriter fashion, I’m going to try to use my words to get my message across, so I hope you’ll be patient with me as I try to make things right.”

Boone pressed his hands to his heart and said my name. Then I saw Annie and Bran take his hands, and the sight of the three of them sitting together with concern in their expressions spurred me on.

I started to play the song I’d written for Boone, inspired by the words I’d read in his journal before realizing I was trespassing. The audience clapped and then sat riveted as I began to sing.

I am the darkness

And you are the light

And whenever we meet

We fuss and we fight

A collision of forces

Both wrong and both right

But not when I look at you tonight

Can’t we take a moment

to breathe each other in

To fill in the spaces

no one has to win

whatever the fear

whatever the sin

why can’t we let love begin

You’re so close I want more

Please don’t shut the door

You’re so close I can’t breathe

I never want you to leave

Despite all the feuds

I crave the interludes

Let’s do something rash

With this emotional whiplash

The crowd swayed and swooned along with me. It was that moment all artists crave, when the audience just gets it and they’re right there with you. I was nearly out of breath as I played the break. I took a chance and glanced at Boone.

He sat upright with tears running down his face, still holding hands with Annie and Bran, but staring at me. His brow crinkled in confusion, and for a moment I thought I’d gone too far, but then he blew out a breath and smiled through his tears.

So I sang the last chorus and…prayed.

I stand before you now

I’m not sure I know how

I’m all out of breath

I should never have left

Despite all our feuds

I want more interludes

I know this is rash

I blame emotional whiplash

I want all our feuds

Let’s have more interludes

Who cares if we’re rash

Gimme all that emotional whiplash

It was done. It was all out there. Pops shouted, “That’s my boy!” Vera Jean kissed his cheek. The crowd lost its mind. Even my mother and stepfather jumped to their feet and clapped for us.

But Boone didn’t move.

And my heart stopped.

Maybe it was too much.

Had I fucked up again?

He shook himself as if he’d had a sudden realization. He flew out of his seat and I barely had time to take off my guitar before he dove into my arms, knocking me back a couple of steps.

“Goddammit, Butler,” he cried, before he kissed me with a force that matched my colossal swell of emotion.

The shouts and applause nearly tore the roof off the place, but I didn’t care if the sky was falling. I wanted the world to stop and let me hold this man who’d rocked my world, turned it upside down, and forced me to let go of my need to control everything in my life. I didn’t know if I’d ever enjoy feeling out of control, but for Boone, I was willing to give it a shot.

“I love you,” I said into his ear. “Please forgive me, Boone.”

“For making me cry in front of everyone? Not a chance.” But he barked out a laugh through his tears. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“So if I got down on my knee right now and?—”

“Shane! Give me a minute to adjust! I thought I was coming home to live with the twins and somehow figure out how to get over you, which was not very likely by the way.”

“Give me another chance, Boone. Come home with me.”

“If you two lovebirds are done, we’ve got one more song to sing.”

I pulled away from Boone to find the Blackened, Morrison, Leland, and Lydia all back onstage and in their places. Morrison handed me my guitar and Boone went to move, but I held his hand.

“Sing with me.”

“I can’t sing,” he said in my ear. “My voice is toast.”

I pressed my forehead against his. “Then stand up here so I don’t have to let go of you yet. I don’t want to let go.”

“How do you plan to play guitar with me— Oh!”

I draped the guitar over both of us, trapping him against me as I strummed the guitar to the start of “Paisley.”

Pops came out and sang John’s part, and I harmonized while I attempted to play guitar with Boone laughing against my chest.

“Lean your head back,” I said to him. “I gotta see for this next part.”

“Let me.”

So he fretted while I strummed, and we made a joyful if not awkward noise together while the audience laughed and cheered for us. When it was over and we got untangled, Boone hugged Pops and shook hands with the rest of the band. Aldous stepped up to the mic to end the show, and Boone took the opportunity to drag me offstage.

He kept running once we were outside, and I followed him down the aisle and up the steps to the studio. He punched in the code and once the door was open, he dragged me up the stairs.

“Boone—”

He threw his arms around me and I groaned at the taste of his kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” he said against my lips. “I thought you were through with me, and you write a beautiful fucking song like that?”

“I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t read your notebook, I just saw those words at the top of the page?—”

“’Feuds and Interludes?’ Yeah, I wrote that after we had that first interlude right here in this room. I was so mad at you that night.”

“And now?” I was shaking so bad. Had I just bared my whole-ass soul for him to tell me it was over?

“Shane, I haven’t been mad at you since we spoke that night I was on the ferry going to Stockholm. I wrote a song that night too, about being in love with someone who held your heart hostage. It’s pretty heavy.”

“Can we try again? Will you m?—”

“We’ve been trying. We’ll continue to try. We’ll go home and?—”

“Home?”

“Yes, Shane, if you want me to come home with you, we’ll try this again. And we’ll keep trying until we get it right. Because I don’t know if you realized this or not, but you’re not the only one who is stubborn in this relationship. I’m not giving up on you, even when you literally run away from me.”

“Please forgive me, Boone. I’m sorry.” I kissed his mouth, his jaw, and headed for my favorite spot on his throat.

“I’m almost there,” he moaned. “I just need a little more of that…ahhh, fuck, Shane.”

That wild abandon I felt when I first kissed Boone was back with a vengeance. I couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go.

I started unbuttoning his vest, and then cursed when I found more buttons underneath.

“Fucking buttons. Need you.”

Boone threw his head back and laughed as I yanked his shirt open, sending buttons pinging off every surface. I went to work on his pants as I sucked on those tendons, right where they met his collarbone, and had just reached into his pants when?—

“Ugh, we went from orgy bus to sexy times in the studio, geez. I can’t with you two.”

I pulled away from Boone’s neck, and he squealed as I shoved his exposed body behind me. “Do you mind? You had him for three whole months?—”

“Your grandparents are cutting and serving cake, and they would like the two of you to—oh shit, Boone. Never mind. You better not come out looking like that.”

“What?”

I turned to look and… “Damn. Those are even bigger than the first ones. I’m, wow, I’m sorry?—”

“The only thing you should be apologizing for is stopping. Annie dear, I love you. Please tell our grandparents that I am very, very tired, and Shane is putting me to bed.”

“Uh-huh. If y’all make it to a bed. I’m out of here. Go on with your horny selves.” She slammed the bedroom door and shouted as she stomped down the stairs. “I’m locking the studio door, ya heathens.”

“Oh, thank God. Shane, you haven’t finished groveling— Ah, fuck.”

I’d dropped to my knees and had Boone’s gorgeous cock in my mouth before he could yell at me anymore. I planned to keep him unable to speak coherently until he forgave me.

As long as it took.