Starting from Zero (Starting from 1) - Page 4

I wrapped up the song with a guitar-hero flourish and raised my arms in the air to soak up the applause. Then I hopped off the stage and exchanged high fives with my brother, Christian, and Tegan.

“You were awesome, man. Rock god in the making,” Tegan gushed. “I can’t wait to see how Xena tops that.”

I huffed derisively and pushed my guitar at him. “Hey, will you take this?”

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.”

Tegan yanked my T-shirt and scowled. “Don’t start something with Dec. He’s not worth it, Jus.”

I held my friend’s gaze for a moment, then squeezed my brother’s shoulder and waved to Christian before heading to the exit. I bumped fists and soaked in a few compliments of the “great job, man” variety as I weaved my way through the press of bodies. When I reached the main door, I paused to look for the man I’d had eye sex with during my last song. I spotted his friend at the bar, talking to a few patrons, including Xena. I wondered if he was someone important as I sidestepped a drunken couple entering the club and immediately bumped into Declan McNamara…my archnemesis.

So here’s the thing about Dec.…He was a world-class snake. The kind that lured you in with a killer smile, a great sense of humor, and a sexy body. I wasn’t proud to admit it, but I’d fallen for his act. One minute we were laughing over a beer or ten—the next, I was sucking his dick. For the record, it was a big deal because I hadn’t sucked anyone’s dick in years. I liked it better than I remembered, and I was good at it. We were never going to be more than an occasional booty call, but we eventually became friends. Until he fucked me over. Big-time. It was a shame that all Dec’s charisma and rock-star model looks, complete with long hair and a wardrobe that consisted mainly of ripped jeans and snug-fitted T-shirts, had been wasted on a not-so-awesome human.

“Justin. Hey, do you have a sec?” he asked, pushing a strand of his long, brown hair behind his right ear.

“Nope. See ya,” I said maturely before slipping through the open door.

The blast of fresh air felt amazing. I sucked in a cleansing breath and got a lungful of secondhand smoke with it. A group of twentysomethings huddled under the eaves veiled in a cloud of e-cigarette exhaust. Their retro-punk look was kinda badass but they smelled like a bunch of fucking Strawberry Shortcakes. I rubbed my arms against the mid-January chill and stepped to the left to avoid the contact sugar high. And Declan.

“Hang on!”

I rounded on him as I stepped under the eaves. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Come on, Jus. It doesn’t have to be like this. We were friends and—”

“And now we’re not.”

“Christ!” He rubbed his scruffy jaw absently, then held up his hands. “I’m sorry. But I really wish you’d move past this and—”

“Fuck you!” I shoved him hard. A few heads turned when he stumbled backward. I braced myself for attack, knowing he was more than capable of kicking my ass. Declan was built like a swimmer, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. He was lean like me, but strong as hell. However, my surge of anger gave me a momentary advantage. I moved into his space and stabbed my forefinger on his chest. “You did your best to make me look like a fool once. It’s not happening again. I don’t know what you and Xena are up to here but—”

“Same thing as you, you fuckin’ hothead. We want a break.” His voice softened when he continued. “There’s opportunity here, Jus. And there’s room for more than one band. You were great up there, and those songs were amazing. Are they new?”

I furrowed my brow so hard, it gave me a headache. “What part of ‘I don’t want to talk to you again’ did you not understand?”

“Fine. I get it. But I think we could help each other out. We could—”

“Am I the only one hearing this bullshit?” I yelled, raising my hands in the air. “This guy has the gall to screw me…literally, and then—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled.

I gritted my teeth and glared at Dec. When the heated standoff went on for a beat too long, I glanced away and spotted the sexy older man from inside the club. He stood under a lamplight, smoking a cigarette and observing me nonchalantly. The way you might a child throwing a tantrum on an airplane, with a measure of sympathy and annoyance.

I caught his stare and something in me went a little wonky. It was the best explanation I had for my bout of madness. I pointed at the stranger before jumping sideways toward him, while shooting a manic look at Dec. “Look, we’re done here. If I don’t kick your ass, my boyfriend will. Won’t you, babe?”

Tags: Lane Hayes Starting from Romance
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