When
Killian’s band gets its big break, he can’t contain his excitement. He assumes
everyone is going to be thrilled, including the drummer, his boyfriend Malcolm.
Killian can’t wait to get out of their small town so they won’t have to hide
their relationship anymore. But Malcolm is skeptical and feels college is a
safer bet than touring with the band, and he wants Killian to stick to their
original plan and go to school with him. So they part ways, both feeling hurt
and abandoned.
Ten
years later, Killian is in another band, and they need a drummer. Their manager
convinces one of his college professors to play with them on their upcoming
tour, and to Killian’s surprise, Malcolm is back in his life again. Their
reunion hits a few bumps at first, but soon they’re working through their
issues one at a time. This progress is interrupted when an obsessed lover from
Killian’s past reemerges. He wants to keep Killian from being with Malcolm—the
lost love he’d heard so much about—and he’ll do anything necessary to make
Killian his again…
Excerpt:
Killian
rubbed his head as he rolled into the studio two hours late. He was more
hungover than he had been in months. They were just trying out a new drummer,
so he didn’t see why he had to be there. Killian played lead guitar, but the
frontman Liam could play that if he had to. He headed right into the practice
room when he heard voices. Nodding to the bassist Will and then to Frank, who
played rhythm guitar and sometimes keyboard, Killian plopped down on a chair
and concentrated on his coffee. The two men just looked at him and then at each
other before turning their focus back down to their guitars. A shadow soon fell
across Killian.
“Hi,
I’m Claude, manager of the world-famous metal band Reaper’s Reward.” He pushed
his glasses up on his nose. “And you, sir? Who the fuck are you?”
Killian
pulled his sunglasses off. “I’m sorry, okay, Claude? I had a long night.”
“Oh, I
see. That makes it okay then.” Claude reached down and grabbed two of Killian’s
dreadlocks, forcing his head back.
“The
hell—” The look in Claude’s eyes silenced him.
“You’re
embarrassing me in front of my favorite professor,” Claude said through clenched
teeth.
Killian
didn’t get what was happening. “What is one of your teachers doing here?” He
didn’t even know what kind of degree Claude had when it came down to it. All he
needed to know was that the guy had a shitload of personality and got things done.
Killian didn’t care about anything else.
“Do
you even listen when I talk?” Claude asked, releasing Killian.
“Yeah.”
“Says
you.” Claude sighed. “My music management professor, who was my assigned
mentor, is also a musician. I ran into him and asked him if he knew any
drummers looking for a temporary gig. He told me he was taking leave for the
spring and summer semesters and would love to tour with us. He even knows all
of your songs already.”
“So
he’s a fan?” Killian scanned the room.
“Yeah,
I’m a fan.”
Killian
locked eyes with Malcolm as he stood up from behind the drum set.
His
hangover temporarily went away. “You’re shittin’ me!” Killian said.
Liam,
who stood beside Malcolm now, looked back and forth between the two of them.
“There a problem, Killjoy?”
“Fuck
off!” Killian stood and took a few steps forward. “You didn’t want to be in my
band ten years ago. The fuck are you doin’ here now?”
Liam
took off his guitar and glared at Killian. “You got a problem, that’s tough,
‘cause we’ve been jammin’ for over an hour, and we think he’s a great fit. I’ve
been playing your guitar parts, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll still sound decent
even with you playin’ them.”
Killian
stared Liam down. They’d been in Reaper’s Reward together for six years, ever
since Deep Shadows had broken up. Liam had always been a good friend, but
sometimes the two men really riled each other. Killian looked away first, but
only because Malcolm moved forward.
“It’s
okay, Liam,” Malcolm said. “I told you guys I knew Killian, but I neglected to
say that we dated right before Deep Shadows took off. I was their drummer
before I left for college. That’s my bad. Sorry.”
Liam
turned to Malcolm. “That’s fine, man. I wouldn’t admit to having dated him
either.”
Malcolm
half laughed and then looked back to Killian. “How about we talk, Killian? That
okay?”
Okay?
No, it wasn’t okay. Looking into those icy blue eyes again made the years drop
away. Killian still saw the most beautiful man in the world, the only man he’d
ever loved. In the same moment, he felt like both a victim and a coward.
Malcolm had left him because he hadn’t had the courage to take a chance; yet,
at the same time, Killian had been the one to leave, forgetting their plans to
chase a dream. He’d never returned any of Malcolm’s calls or acknowledged any
of his letters or emails, and after two years, Malcolm had stopped.
“Yeah,
we can talk.”
As
Killian walked past Claude, the man practically growled at him. “Behave,
Killjoy.”
“I
will,” he whispered back, his face growing hot. If any of them told Malcolm why
they called him that, he’d kill them with his bare hands.
Killian
briefly looked at Malcolm and jerked his head to the left. “We can go in this
office here.”
Killian
let Malcolm enter first, and when he glanced back at his band mates, they were
all staring at him with stern yet curious looks on their faces. He flipped them
off and went inside, closing the door. Malcolm leaned against the desk, looking
calm and unaffected. How could he do that? Why wasn’t he feeling anything? Had
he planned this? Was this some kind of revenge?
“So
why come back after all this time, Mal? To torment me?” Killian crossed his
arms and backed himself against the door.
“I’m
here for Claude, actually. He was one of my very best students, and now he’s a
good friend. I’m not here only because of you, though I’m glad to get the
chance to clear the air with you. I am glad you got what you wanted. I’ve
followed your career all along. I was sorry to hear about Deep Shadows breaking
up but glad your friendship with Liam secured you a place here. You’ve been key
to their success. I love the band, and I’d be proud to be a part of it, if
you’ll let me.” Malcolm sighed. “I’m happy to let the past rest in peace so we
can be friends.”
Friends?
No, not fucking friends. Killian knew he couldn’t do it. But what could he say?
He couldn’t go out there and tell the rest of the band that this was the guy
who broke his heart, the guy he rambled about when he got drunk. Bile rose in
his throat. Shit, Malcolm told them that
we dated right before Deep Shadows got its break! They’re probably out there
puttin’ it together right now. Fuckers. His head began to spin, and he sank
down to the floor and put his head between his knees.
“Killian,
are you okay?” Malcolm knelt at his side and touched his shoulder.
“I’m
hungover, and this is stressing me out. So, no, I’m not.”
“I’m
sorry. I didn’t expect this. You never gave me another thought, it seemed,
based on your silence. So I assumed—wrongly, perhaps—you got over me just
fine.”
Just
fine? If only Malcolm knew they called Killian “Killjoy” because of those
drunken rants about his ex-lover, the one who hadn’t loved him enough to stay.
He wanted to punch Malcolm just as much as he wanted to kiss him. Briefly,
Killian was tempted to do both. He could picture it, reaching up and pulling
Malcolm into a hot kiss and then nailing him right in the gut. Both would feel
so damn good.
Killian
leaned his head back and gazed at Malcolm. “Oh, I got over you. I got under
every guy who came backstage. Each and every one of them was thrilled to make love to me. It was obvious that
‘Standing in the Road’ was about a guy, and I was the only lyricist, so the
rumors I was gay stuck. It had all kinds of guys lining up to get some
one-on-one with me.”
Malcolm
still looked calm, though after a few seconds his left eye twitched, and
Killian saw him swallow hard. “I hope you were careful, Killian.”
“Always
used protection. I was brokenhearted, not dumb. I’m clean and perfectly
healthy.” He smirked and pushed forward a bravado he didn’t feel at all. “Why?
You finally want me now I’m famous?”
Malcolm
touched Killian’s cheek so gently Killian stopped breathing for a second. “Stop
it, Kill, please.”
Finding
his breath again, Killian said, “Why? Does it hurt to hear it?”
“Yes,
Kill. Yes, it does hurt. If you tell me to leave, I’ll apologize to the band
and to Claude and then leave. I’d hoped enough time had passed that we could be
friends.”
Friends.
There was that word again. Killian turned slightly, pushed his dreads back, and
grabbed Malcolm’s face with both hands. “We … are not … friends.” He locked his lips to Malcolm’s and let ten years of
longing flow out of him.