He already knew Brandt was going to say no, but needing to offer as he lay there alone in the camper, fighting the urge to go back regardless of what Brandt said.
No. I want you to win. Tell me which songs you’re going to do.
And so he did, letting Brandt suck him into a discussion of which of his songs that Brandt had heard over the weeks might be the best fit to showcase both his voice and his songwriting abilities. He’d settled on the one he’d written last winter in Nashville, about being lonely in a crowd. The coffee shop crowd had liked it well enough, and it had gotten him the gig with Tim’s group. Even after deciding, he kept texting back and forth with Brandt about silly stuff, neither of them saying a damn thing that mattered, until Jewel woke up, and Shane finally drifted off, feeling even more alone. He should have been there, helping Brandt get Jewel back to sleep.
* * *
Shane missed Brandt. And Jewel. But as he tuned his guitar in a quiet hallway of a Portland auditorium, it was Brandt he missed most. His smell. His taste. His laugh. The way he had of crowding into Shane and pulling him close, his nearness a form of affection. Right up until the moment he’d shown Shane the door.
Not that Shane blamed him exactly and not that Brandt had slammed that door shut. He’d said he wasn’t shoving Shane away, and he kept talking about things maybe working out. However, Shane knew better than to trust those sorts of wishes. Brandt’s priority had to be Jewel and what was best for that situation, and if he and Shane still got to hook up when Shane was back in town, well that was a nice bonus. True partnership seemed like a pipe dream.
Except for the part where Shane’s head kept buzzing with a half-finished love song, lines that couldn’t decide whether they were sweet or mournful. He’d known better than to fall for Brandt Wilder, yet he had. Hell, maybe it had been an inevitability from the first time he’d smiled in Shane’s direction. Shane’s hands ached from clenching the steering wheel the whole way to Portland, and his guitar strumming was tighter than usual, clumsy fingers missing notes that usually came as easily as breathing.
He’d suffered through a rehearsal where the celebrity judges weren’t present, and he’d navigated the wardrobe and makeup folks. TV was a whole new ballgame for him, the number of people fussing over the competitors. The thing was probably rigged, with the showrunners already knowing who was going to get the nod to go to LA. He’d heard enough about these kinds of shows from others in the industry to be rather skeptical of his chances, even if he performed to his best, which in his current state of misery was doubtful. But he was still going to try. He’d promised Brandt.
Buzz. Setting the guitar aside, he fished out his phone. Not Brandt. The new messages were Tim and Elaine wishing him luck. He’d had an earlier one from Macy wanting to know if he’d seen Shelby and if she was safe. The saltier part of him had given serious thought to not replying, but the nicer part had sent a quick one that as far he knew she was still in central Oregon giving Brandt a hard time.
Still holding his phone, his thumb landed on his photo gallery. The last ones were from his birthday. Brandt’s cake. And there was Jewel, looking so much bigger at three months than she had at two. Chubby cheeks now and a drooly grin. One of Brandt holding her as she reached for his hair. Who knew what tricks she’d be doing next time Shane saw her? The look in Brandt’s eyes was new too, the softness there as he gazed at the baby. The only other time Shane had seen him look like that was...
That was something. Brandt all dreamy and sleepy post sex, the way he always gazed up at Shane like he’d performed some miracle. Maybe Brandt did feel something real for him after all, affection that lingered. But if that was the case, why was it so easy for Brandt to let him go? Shane looked down at the picture again, tempted to text it to him simply to have the excuse to make contact.
Between the two of them, they probably already had dozens of pictures of Jewel. Way more than Brandt had of himself—
Oh. Of course Brandt wasn’t going to be the one to hold on. No one had held on to him. Including you, the voice in his head reminded him. You went. He’d assumed Brandt was only too happy to push him away, but that affection in Brandt’s eyes wasn’t something a person could fake. And here was Shane showing him yet again that people left simply because Shane hadn’t wanted to trust. Still wasn’t sure he could, but hell if he was going to be one more thing in Brandt’s life that moved on.
I have to go back. The certainty he’d searched for the last few day arrived on a surge of adrenaline. He didn’t have to let Brandt do this alone. He could—
Buzz. Another message, and this one he almost ignored, but he caught sight of Brandt’s icon.
Changed my vote. You need to do the timber song.
Shane’s throat tightened. Can’t. It’s not ready.
He wasn’t ready either. Couldn’t tell Brandt that. Couldn’t tell Brandt that he was about to walk away from all this either.
Fuck that noise. Brandt’s reply came so quickly Shane could almost hear the retort. It’s ready. I want to hear it again.
I’ll play it for you soon, he promised, figuring Brandt could find out exactly how soon—
“No, play it now.”
Shane whirled around to find Brandt standing feet away, wearing Jewel in the sling.
“What the—”
“Couldn’t miss your big show.”
“You came.” He licked his lips. Shane didn’t bother asking him how Brandt had gotten backstage. Brandt could charm his way anywhere on an ordinary day. Add in the adorableness of the baby wearing, and no one was turning him away.
“I did. And I want to see you do your best song.”
“Yeah,” he said faintly. “I know which one to do now.”
And he did. Because Brandt had come. For him. He’d seen the stacked odds and come anyway because of course he had. He had the sort of courage Shane could only dream of. Shane had been such a fool to not trust him more. But maybe he still had time to fix everything as long as he quit playing it so safe.
* * *
“Good. Go big or go home.” Brandt was dying to hug Shane, but he had a baby strapped to his front, and Shane had a guitar leaning up against one leg. He’d come this far and waited this long. He could wait a little longer, but damn was it good to see Shane in the flesh.
“I will.” Shane nodded sharply. He looked paler than he had a few days ago. Meanwhile, his dark hair had a shorter cut and his jaw was scruff-free. He smelled good too. Something new and vaguely sweet. Brandt wanted to crawl all over him, trying to find the source and tasting everything in between. But that would have to wait.
“Nice shirt.” He nodded at the blue Western-style shirt, which he hadn’t seen before. “All fancy for TV?”