Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

wasting something that he no longer had any control over. He told me I was being shallow and stubborn and just plain disagreeable when it came to you and that I should, and I quote, 'pull my head out of my ass and start groveling for forgiveness before I became an ugly, bitter old man who spent all his time arguing with the Sunday paper because he had no one else who gave a shit.' End of quote."
    "I think I like Shadow a lot."
    Devon smiled again, dimples flashing at Scott. "The point is he was right, and I'm sorry, and I want to come clean about everything."
    Scott popped out his bottom lip and pressed the side of his head further into his pillow. "Hmm. That sounds nice but how do we do it?"
    "Ask me anything."
    It was Scott's turn to grin, his brain working overtime with all the questions scrabbling around in his head, every single one more important than the next. He needed to pick and choose carefully. "Have you seriously never slept with a fan?"
    Devon licked at the cut on his lip. "Not intentionally."
    "That's so not an answer."
    "I mean I slept with someone who didn't know who I was in the beginning, but when they found out, they flipped from being satisfied with Devon to wanting more of Devastation. I ended it quickly."
    "What more did they want?"
    "Free tickets, free t-shirts, free backstage passes, free cars, free trips—"
    Scott's hand moved to the back of Devon's neck, fingers rubbing at the taut muscles. "I get the picture. So no free stuff for me?"
    "Anything for you."
    Discomfort was the word of the moment and Scott quickly pulled his hand away. No contact until you are absolutely sure and do not let him suck you in with his Southern charm, he reminded himself. "What about the band?"
    "The band?"
    "Did you really name it Smoky Grey after your cat?"
    Devon twisted his neck until his face was sucked into the pillow. His voice was barely audible. "Guilty."
    "That's so sweet," Scott said. Devon turned back to Scott, tiny smile playing on his lips. "And have you slept with any of those guys?"
    "Nope."
    "Not gay?"
    "Two of them are but it would have been like fucking a brother."
    "Do you have a brother?"
    "No. Only child."
    Hmm. He needed something meatier before he got down to business. "Do you get off strutting around on stage?"
    Devon's smile told Scott everything he needed to know. "It's an adrenaline thing for sure, and yeah, my wood sometimes goes to half-mast, but it's more that I love doing it than any one thing that sets it off."
    Scott chuckled but continued. "Are the sounds you make when you sing actual words or just screaming noise?"
    Devon full-out laughed at that. "A bit of both, but I do write all the songs and they are real songs. Not your thing, huh?"
    "God no. I swear I was picking blood out of my ears for days." Scott snorted while Devon's eyes opened wider.
    "Bastard," Devon said, mouth falling open while he reached over and cuffed Scott on the side of the head. He let his hand rest on Scott's shoulder. Scott kind of liked it.
    Focus. "Why the jazz club? Were you there looking for someone to hit on?"
    "Nope. I was tired and bored but didn't want to go anywhere loud and rowdy, so that's where I ended up. Second answer, I had no intention of getting my rocks off that night."
    Scott let his gaze drift so he wasn't meeting Devon's eyes. "Why me then?"
    Devon shrugged, fingers playing along the neck of Scott's t-shirt. "I was attracted to you. What else can I say? Just because I sing to 'bangers doesn't mean they're my type. You're my type."
    Steady. "I call bullshit, but I only have one more question."
    "Shoot."
    This was the toughie… the whole ball of wax… the revealing of the white elephant in the room—
    "Scott?"
    Oh yeah, focus. Scott drew in a breath, held it then asked, "Are you looking for something long-term or just the Saturday-Sunday routine that we've been playing?" all in one breath.
    Devon's face changed from confused to sincere in the blink of an eye. He molded his hand around the ball of Scott's shoulder and squeezed. "I want you every day of the week, Scott, and I don't mean that in just a sexual way. I want to build a life with someone and I'm hoping it's you."
    Scott couldn't answer the question yet. He just needed more time to let his brain catch up with his heart. "But what about the band? I read you were on hiatus or retired or whatever? What are you going to do now?"
    Devon's eyes pinpointed some far-off idea. "Maybe open my own bike shop or travel for a while, and