“Something like that.” Shane’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Can’t believe you actually came.”
“Me too, honestly,” Brandt admitted. He’d wanted to. Intended to. But life had been complicated these past few days. And he hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d been leaning on Shane for help until he had to do a three-hour drive north to Portland with the baby on his own. Yet they were here now and that was what counted. “I wanted you to have a cheering section.”
Brandt lifted Jewel’s arm making her wave at Shane, and to his surprise, she lifted the other one.
“Look at that. Your kid sure is brilliant.” Shane laughed, but his eyes stayed warm, a tenderness there that was for Brandt alone. “And thank you, too.”
“Anytime.” Brandt held his gaze, trying to convey how far he’d go for Shane without needing to give voice to all the terrifying emotions ricocheting through him.
“Did Shelby come too?” Shane sighed like he was bracing himself for the answer.
“No. Can we talk about that later?” There were several conversations they needed to have, including more than one about Shelby, but Brandt wasn’t going to ruin Shane’s big moment with a lot of deep talk and big choices. “Filming starts soon, right?”
“Yeah. It does.” Shane glanced away, back down the empty hallway. “I was about to go scratch.”
Brandt blinked so hard he almost jostled the baby. “You were about to what?”
“Pull out—”
“I know what scratch means. Why would you leave this chance?”
“Because you need me.” Leaving his guitar against the wall, Shane stepped closer, rubbing Brandt’s biceps.
“I—” Brandt was going to deny it. Again. Because that was what he did. Even after his realizations while talking with Shelby, he still hated needing anyone. But he’d promised himself to be honest with Shane. And himself. “I do. But I want this opportunity for you too.”
“Why?” Still holding on to Brandt, Shane tilted his head.
“Because the world needs your music. Because you making your dream come true makes me happy.” He frowned because all that was rather trite and not precisely the reason either. “Because I’m falling for you—all of you, dreams and songs included. And it hurts, like physically aches to think of you not getting your shot.”
Shane’s whole face softened and his grasp on Brandt’s arm tightened. “I—”
“Mr. Travis! There you are.” A stern-faced young woman who was carrying a clipboard hurried down the hall toward them. “We’re about to start.”
Whatever Shane had been about to say could wait, as could the rest of what Brandt wanted to tell him. Stepping back, he motioned at Shane’s guitar. “Go out there and make us proud.”
“He will as long as he’s not late.” Still bustling with purpose, the woman turned her attention to Brandt and Jewel. “There’s a green room where some of the other families are watching. We’ll get reaction shots from them. You’re welcome there.”
Brandt didn’t say anything because this had to be Shane’s call. He knew that Shane generally kept his personal life private on the road, and while Brandt might have outed himself to his crew, Shane deserved space to make his own choice about what he wanted to show the camera.
Biting the corner of his mouth, Shane studied Brandt for a long moment. “Yeah. You’re my family. You should be there.”
“We are.” Brandt wanted to say so much more, tell Shane how much it meant to him that Shane saw things that way and that Shane was willing to acknowledge their connection in some small way. But time was slipping away as the young woman strode down the hall, leaving them to scramble after her. She left Shane with a crowd of other performers and production assistants before showing Brandt to a big space that was probably ordinarily a rehearsal room, but now had a camera crew at one end and several rows of chairs in the middle.
A number of people had shirts supporting a particular contestant, and clumps of people milled around, good naturedly talking their person up. Brandt should have thought this through a little more because a Team Shane cowgirl onesie on Jewel would be too perfect.
“Your baby’s adorable. Who are you here for?” A gray-haired woman in a purple T-shirt that said Go Regina! came up to him as he checked out the snack table off to the side of the space.
“Shane Travis. He’s this cutie’s uncle.” He still wasn’t sure how public Shane wanted to be in a romantic sense, but simply being here meant a lot.
“Oh, he’s good. We’ve been following him a few years now. A bit tight to start a set, but man when he loosens up...”
“Yep. He’s something.” That pretty much described Shane’s appeal in a nutshell—all sorts of tension simmering beneath a tight lid, but get to know him and his true complexity was revealed. He was quiet but deep, maybe as deep a person as Brandt had ever met. And he’d also never encountered this kind of pride, waiting for Shane to take his turn.
His own nerves jangled like he was the one about to perform. No way could he sit right then, so he stood, bouncing Jewel from side to side as he watched the first few performers on the large monitors in the room. All of the performers had the same backup band, and the stage had minimal decor with the show name featuring prominently behind the band. The three celebrity judges each had large golden buzzers in front of them, and if a singer received three votes, they were automatically through to LA on a “golden ticket” while a few others would get through on numerical scores at the end. Shane was early in the lineup, and while there had been a smattering of buzzers, no one had a golden ticket by the time he took the stage.
“There he is,” he whispered to Jewel. “Come on, Shane.”
Regina’s relative had been right—Shane seemed a little stiff and wooden as he listened to the host, a fairly well-known comedian with a recent special that Brandt had watched on streaming. The host finished up the canned intro then invited Shane to say a few words.
“Thanks.” Shane gave a tight half smile. Brandt could read his nerves even from here and tried to send calming vibes for whatever that was worth. “This is probably the most personal song I’ve ever written. And it’s new. Maybe too new. But it’s the one I need to share.”
He started to strum, but it wasn’t the opening chords to the timber song about Roger. No this was a different song. Brandt slumped into a nearby chair. He hadn’t listened to Brandt after all, damn it. But wait...
This was a new song. One Brandt hadn’t heard yet recognized instantly. It was them, weekend breakfast in bed, baby between them, laughing. A sliver of a memory turned into something beautiful and timeless under Shane’s care. And however nervous he’d been to start, that wasn’t showing now. His voice was as strong and clear as ever, each note seeming designed to hit Brandt square in the chest.