Chapter 17

He watches, mesmerized, as Randy pushes away from the door and crosses the room, heading his way. He’s numb, lost, and doesn’t know what to do or say or where things started to go wrong. In the mirror he sees Randy’s hands touch his shoulders, he sees the musician bury his nose in his hair, he sees the fingers tighten on his arms but he can’t feel them. They’re not real, this isn’t happening…

Then Randy’s hips grind into him, that erection veryreal and pressing between his buttocks, demanding. Dane whirls away, out of Randy’s arms, away from those hands. “What—” he tries, but he can’t think of anything else to say. “Randy…”

“I can make you somebody.” Randy reaches out, trails a hand down Dane’s chest, rubs his thumb across one nipple. Dane pushes him away. Randy’s smile never wavers. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? To be known. To have people hear your songs. To live forever. I know people in this town, kid. I can take you places you’ve only dreamed of going.”