“What are you doing, kid?” he asked.

  His gigantic hands wrapped around my wrists. It hurt.

  “You can’t bother the neighbors like this,” he said. “Not everyone wants to hear your croaking. Do you want to give everyone a headache?”

  His words stayed with me. I never sang in the streets or at home again. During music class at school, I faked being sick on the days we had to sing.

  It wasn’t until I started making music at the Drapers’ house that I tried singing again, but everything just sounded wrong. The moment I opened my mouth, a headache set in. It didn’t occur to me that my voice might not be the reason my head was throbbing until Sebastian told me how much he liked my singing.

  I didn’t know why I agreed to sing in front of him in the first place. Maybe I wanted him to confirm what I had been told. If he had gotten a headache, too, then at least it would have settled things. After all, he knew what he was talking about. He had the training. But since he didn’t get a headache, I had to rethink everything—although Sebastian didn’t give me much time to do that.

  As soon as we got home, he picked up his guitar, played one of our songs, and told me to improvise a second voice over it. He looked at me with such encouragement that I couldn’t deny him.

  As he sang, a melody that could enhance the song emerged in the back of my mind, and once I opened my mouth, it flooded out. Our voices melded together, and the parts that had seemed boring before became the most interesting elements of the song. We went through all of our tracks and could improve each and every one.

  An hour later, I sat in my room with a microphone in my hand, my gut twisting the same way it had the last time I tried to record myself.

  “Usually, the frontman sings the background vocals, too, so they match perfectly,” I said, hoping to get out of this somehow.

  “No one’s voice fits this better than yours.” Sebastian laughed, seeing right through my attempt. “This is our project. I want both our voices in there. Just so we can hear it together. If we don’t like it afterward, I can still record it myself, okay?”

  No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t argue with that. I put on my headphones and hit record. The familiar beat filled my ears. My stomach twisted tighter, and I slumped forward—but then Sebastian helped me in a way I would never have thought of. He placed his palm between my shoulder blades, showing me that he was in this with me, that he wasn’t going to let me fail.

  I sat up. My lungs expanded as I inhaled and opened my mouth.

  My voice flowed through the microphone, into the laptop, and back out through my headphones. His vocals in the playback stayed in the foreground, giving me confidence as I realized that his voice would always be there to guide me.

  Before I knew it, the song was over.

  His palm, which had been holding me steady, ran up and down my back. “That was awesome.”

  “Let’s listen to it first,” I countered, taking off my headphones and switching the output to the studio monitor so we could both listen. With a quick push of the space bar, the song started again.

  Sebastian’s hand wandered from my back to my knee, where it stayed as we waited for our duet to begin. My breaths became shallower as the build-up to the chorus approached, but when I heard us together, it wasn’t as bad as I’d convinced myself it would sound. It wasn’t perfect either. I couldn’t hold the notes as steadily as he could, which led to three minor slip-ups. They didn’t ruin the song, but they weren’t good enough to show it to someone else.

  When the chorus hit, and our voices melded together, Sebastian held his breath. His fingers clamped around my knee, and as we hit the high note, he nodded along to the beat.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “It’s not perfect. But I guess it’s not the wrong direction either.”

  “You little—” Sebastian leaped toward me and threw himself on top of me. I landed on my back, and he tackled me to the ground. “You’re way too humble for your own good.” He wrapped his hands around my wrists, pinning me down. “It’s not perfect, yes, but it is already good. It’s definitely the right direction. You’re so good with words when you write lyrics, but when you talk about yourself, you use all the wrong ones.”

  I wiggled around, playfully trying to fight back, but he locked my hips with his legs.

  “I can’t hear the song like this,” I protested.

  Instead of letting me go, he brought his lips to mine. He kissed me in time with the beat. The sounds of his breath, the smacks of his lips against mine, and the rustling of our clothes, mixed with the music as if they had always belonged together.

  His mouth moved to my neck. “You’re not humble or shy when we fuck. Come on. Show me that side when we make music, too.” He sat up, hovering his face above mine. “You know, I can dominate you, too. But we both know it’s so much better when you take control.”

  “Are you still talking about music?”

  “I’m talking about everything. I want you to make me fight for my place in our songs, just as much as you make me fight for it when we fuck.” He tightened his grip on my wrists. He locked his eyes on mine, daring me to go for it.

  I put all my strength into my arms and easily broke free from his grip. My hands rushed to his hips, and I flipped him over. “Is this what you want?”

  He wiggled himself free, rolled onto his stomach, and crawled away, giggling. “It’s not enough.”

  I grabbed his leg and pulled him back toward me, making him let out a shriek of laughter. I jumped on his back. Now that he was facing the floor with me on top, he couldn’t get away so easily.

  “Is this more to your liking?” I asked.

  “You’re only giving like fifty percent,” he said, still wiggling around.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Our music has the potential to blow people’s clothes off. Well, I’m still wearing my pants.”

  “You just want me to fuck you again.”

  He glanced at me, a smirk on his face. “So what?”

  I pressed my bulge against his ass. This guy brought out a side of me I both liked and feared. But my hard-on gave me all the answers I needed. I pinned his wrists behind his back with my right hand, which was easy since his attempts to fight back were just a decoy by now, and pulled down his pants with my left, exposing his ass.

  “You’ll get what you ask for.”

  “Finally.”

  I unzipped my pants, freed my hard dick, and lined myself up with his hole. I spat into my hand to slick him up, then slid the tip of my cock between his cheeks and pushed inside. Sebastian moaned. His breathing quickened. He arched his lower back and lifted his ass up higher. Inch by inch, I worked my way in until I was fully inside him. I pulled out slightly, then thrust back in, drawing another moan from his lips.

  “This is it, Alex. Make me yours.”

  This guy was something else. He made me so fucking horny—for him, for music, for life.

  Slipping my arms under his shoulders, I pulled him tight against me, holding him as I moved. If he needed me wrapped around him, he was going to get it. At least this way, I could give something back for everything he had done for me. And he liked it. The more spontaneous, fast, and dirty our sex was, the more it seemed to satisfy him. Which was probably why I could just plunge into him without much foreplay and fuck him until I came—something I was already close to after only a few minutes, because this turned me on just as much as it did him.

  My ears brought me back to reality. Even with Sebastian moaning and fogging my brain, I picked up the quiet footsteps and voices downstairs.

  Sebastian let out another moan that I muffled by clamping my palm around his mouth.

  “Shh,” I whispered. “There’s someone downstairs.”

  I slowed down, but I couldn’t stop moving. His ears perked up. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes ordering me to finish what I had started. Even though it was stupid and risky, I was too far gone to think straight. I couldn’t tell exactly who was downstairs, only that there were at least two guys, and that the voices didn’t seem to be getting any closer. So in my mind, there was no harm in continuing.

  With renewed fervor, I thrust in and out of Sebastian, pressing my chest against his back. Our breathing quickened as the orgasm built. The sound of our bodies slapping together grew louder for a moment before I pushed my cock as deep into him as possible and shot my load. Sebastian bit his lip to keep quiet, but he couldn’t hold back all his moans, forcing me to press my hand harder over his mouth.

  For ten seconds, we lay there, catching our breath, before I pulled out and rolled off him.

  “Sorry, I didn’t take care of you properly, but I think I need to check who’s downstairs,” I whispered. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “Why do you think I didn’t finish?”

  He pushed himself up, and as he walked to the box of tissues on my nightstand, I saw his dick streaked with cum. He pulled out the last four tissues, then looked back at me.

  “You might want to grab another box if you’re going downstairs.”

  Two minutes later, I headed down to the foyer while Sebastian hurried into the bathroom to clean himself up.

  “Hello?” I called out to the voices, and they abruptly stopped talking.

  “It’s us, Alex,” one of them yelled back.

  I made my way down and was greeted by Jack, who was standing by the storage room next to the main entrance, watching the other guy bent over, searching for something. If I didn’t know how committed Jack was to his relationship, I might’ve gotten the wrong idea from what I just walked in on.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Didn’t you check your phone? I, uh…”

  My hands flew to my pockets, but I hadn’t brought my phone with me. It was still on my piano keyboard, where I always left it.

  Jack pointed at the butt wiggling in front of us. “Nicholas called me to ask if we could clean the gutters today. The weather report says it’s going to rain tomorrow. I figured you and Sebastian wouldn’t mind.”

  “Wait,” the voice inside the closet said, followed by a rumbling before his head popped up. “Who’s Sebastian?” Nicholas’s curious smile couldn’t hide behind his beard.

  “Uh, no one,” Jack answered quickly, but it was already too late.

  “Did someone find himself a boyfriend?” Nicholas asked, his grin widening.

  Jack made a face. “No, he didn’t. He, uh—they got a new cow, that’s right…”

  “I still can’t comprehend how you managed to act like you were being killed for our prank when you’re such a bad liar,” Nicholas said before turning to me. “Come on, tell me. There’s only so much gossip going on in this town. I’ll keep it a secret if I have to.”

  Jack looked at me with big eyes like a beaten dog. “I’m sorry. I tried my best.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Didn’t you say you already told him anyway? At the airport?”

  “No, that was Jason.”

  “Wait, Jason knows?” Nicholas blurted. “And he didn’t tell me?”

  “Guys,” I yelled, trying to get between them. “I’m super confused about who knows what now. In any case, whatever you know, please don’t tell anyone.” I turned back to Nicholas. “Sebastian is not my boyfriend. He’s Laura’s and Dany’s son.”

  “Oh, that’s it? That’s not juicy.” Nicholas nudged Jack. “Why did you act like that if it’s just their…” His eyes widened. “Because you saw something!” He narrowed his eyes at me. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

  The floor upstairs creaked as footsteps approached rapidly. Sebastian stepped down and came to a halt next to me.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. “How are we doing today?”

  “Doing great,” Nicholas said, his eyes ping-ponging between the two of us. “I’m Nicholas.”

  “I know. You’re the guy from the horror-prank engagement video.” Sebastian put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I overheard your conversation. But to explain, Alex and I met at my family reunion. We both like music, which got us talking.”

  “Talking, huh?” Nicholas grinned.

  “He’s here to study for his exams,” I said, exchanging a glance with Sebastian. He offered me an encouraging smile. “But we…” I sighed. “We might, in fact, enjoy spending some time together, too.”

  “Oh, is that what you kids call it these days?” Nicholas laughed.

  “Dany and Laura don’t know, so you can’t tell anyone,” Jack chimed in, probably to make it clear he hadn’t forgotten his promise.

  “And here I thought times had changed,” Nicholas said, laughing even harder. He ran his fingers above his mouth as if he was zipping his lips shut. “Still, I’m happy for you. It’s about time that you got some action, Alex. And, uh…” He pointed at Sebastian. “…for you, too. Not that I know whether you needed any action. But, ugh—you know what I mean, right?”

  He blushed at his awkward sentence and went back into the storage room, only to turn on his heels again right away. “Oh, I have an idea. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, why don’t you guys come over tonight? All of you? We could have a little party!”

  “A party?” I exchanged a look with Sebastian.

  “Yeah,” Nicholas continued. “The spa is almost finished, and we were thinking about doing a test run of the hot tub. That would be so much fun!” He looked at Jack. “Are you and Noah free tonight?”

  Jack made a surprised face, too. “Are you sure your husband would love having the entire gay community of Seastone over without any warning?”

  Nicholas nudged Jack’s shoulder. “He can handle four more people.” His gaze drifted back to me, searching for my reaction.

  “A spa sounds nice,” Sebastian said, squeezing my shoulder. “We can take the evening off, if you want.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready to spend an evening with my friends?” I asked. “They’ll probably bombard you with questions.”

  He turned his hand into a finger gun. “I’m so ready.”

  “Well,” I turned back to Nicholas. “I guess, it’s a date!”

  “Hell, yes!” Nicholas cheered. “I’ll text Jason right away.” He pulled out his phone and started typing.

  Jack sighed. “Well, I guess, I’ll call Noah, too.”

  With that, both guys focused on their phones. Jack stepped outside onto the porch.

  “Is that really okay?” I asked Sebastian again.

  “They know anyway. So…” He brought his hand to my cheek and brushed his thumb over it. “Is it okay for you?”

  “Of course! I’d love for you to meet my friends,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  “Well then…” He smiled. “If we’re going to a party tonight, I guess we should get back to work, shouldn’t we? The song’s not going to finish itself.”

  SIXTEEN

  THE SONG OF DISTRACTION

  SEBASTIAN

  My dad’s truck shook when I shut the passenger door a little too hard. I pressed my forehead against the cool window, averting my gaze as Alex climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up. The lingering smell of wood reminded me of my dad more than I would have liked. I still remember when he bought the truck eight years ago. He took me to the dealership and made me go through all the paperwork so I would know what to expect if I ever wanted to buy a car.

  Now, sitting in that same truck next to the guy I had a major crush on—whom I had just fought with for the first time, to the point that I was ready to shout, just like I did with my dad so often—was a little too much to process.

  Instead of using our inspiration from going downtown to write something new, as we had planned, we spent hours on the same song we had been working on when his friends interrupted us.

  Alex wanted to redo his vocal parts over and over again, even though there was nothing wrong with his third take. Maybe I was a little too impatient with him, but I needed to say something. Too much perfectionism wouldn’t help us at this stage. But when I spoke up, we quickly got our wires crossed, and things got heated. He actually raised his voice, but before I could start screaming, we decided to call it a night.

  “I’m sorry for lashing out at you,” Alex said as we rolled down the hill.

  “You’re just being passionate and want to do things right,” I replied, still a bit too sharply. “I get it.” His perfectionism might be what makes his songs so great. “I’m sorry, too, for not taking your criticism seriously enough. It’s okay that you want to make it the best it can be. I mean, I want it to be perfect, too.”

  He obeyed the stop sign at the end of the road. Instead of looking out for other cars, though, his gaze wandered to me. “The truth always lies in the middle.” Without any further explanation, he turned the corner. “I’m okay with you sending it to your friend for some outside feedback, if you still want to do that.”

  “You sure?”

  About thirty minutes ago, I had suggested we send the demo to some people who weren’t involved. Nora and Raul offered it, and given how they had gotten into a whole fight about it the last time, they were a pretty well-balanced duo to give us feedback.

  “Because if you mean it, I’m sending it to them right now so we can get back to work in the morning.”

  “Do it.”

  “Really?”

  He had been so against it before we left that I couldn’t quite fathom where his change of heart came from. I pulled out my phone, navigated to the Files tab, where I had saved the demo, and opened the menu.

  “Because I’m sending it now.”

  “Yes, send it.”

  “Are you⁠—”

  “Do you need me to screw you in the backseat before you believe me when I say I’m okay with it?”

  “That’s not a good threat, you know.” I laughed and sent the file. “I also want to let you know it’s too late for backsies now. But I’m fine if you still want to take advantage of my ass.”