Twenty year old Corey Evans is one-half of 2ICE, the biggest duo on the radio at the moment. Pronounced twice, they're number one on the Billboard charts this week with their latest single. And number one in download sales, with two albums that have already gone platinum, to hear their manager tell it. And currently on their second U.S. tour, which has sold out stadiums across the nation. Despite this, there's an emptiness inside him which Corey can't seem to fill, no matter how many groupies he takes to his bed. He sees this same emptiness mirrored in the eyes of his band-mate, Ian Coltraine, who drowns his evenings after each show with a bottle of whiskey. Ian's the one Corey turns to when he wakes beside an unknown fan, still asleep in his bed and needs help evicting her. He's Corey best friend, the only person on the tour he can confide in, who he really trusts ... The one, Corey finally realizes, with whom he is madly, deeply, terribly in love. And he suspects Ian might feel the same. But his recent string of one-night stands makes Ian cautious about Corey's true feelings. He's wanted Corey for so long, and has watched him go through countless fans in search of ... what? Ian doesn't know. And he doesn't yet believe Corey when he says Ian might be it. Ian hopes so, but can't bring himself to believe Corey's fickle desire won't be gone in the morning. Can these two young men somehow move beyond Corey's past and Ian's pain to embrace a love they both so desperately desire?

Beautiful Disaster

Fuck you, Corey. The thought came unbidden, and Ian couldn’t stifle it. Tell me how it is you can be so damn beautiful and not even know it.


“Corey,” he whispered, nudging his friend beneath the blankets. He tried not to imagine where his hand was right now on Corey’s body, because everything was soft and warm and it infuriated him. Anger crept into his voice. “Corey. Get up.”


Corey groaned and clutched the blankets tighter. “Gimme a few more minutes.”


Ian rolled out of bed. As he stood, a wave of nausea washed over him and he pressed one palm against his temple, willing away his hangover headache. He wondered if Corey knew where he was, who he was with, this early in the morning. Did he even recognize the sound of Ian’s voice?


Ian didn’t think so. He clicked off the alarm clock before it could change to 6:00 and shatter the stillness. “Get up, Corey.”


“Ian, please,” Corey sighed, curling deeper into the blankets. “Ten minutes. That’s it.”


Chapter 5