Page 2 of Wild Obsession

Cameron groans and sinks back onto the couch. “Julian is gonna freak.”

“We can arrange for him to meet you at whichever tour stops you want,” Emmett says.

Cameron doesn’t respond, but his jaw goes tense. He’s a quiet guy, but we’ve learned to read his tiniest expressions, and this one is not a good sign. I can’t blame him. He and his boyfriend Julian barely got together before our music career suddenly and unexpectedly took off thanks to a talent scout at a music festival. After that, we banged out a proper album, mostly using the material we’d been playing for years at small bars around Seattle. But then it was time for the tour. And after the tour it was time for the press circuit. And after the press circuit there was more recording, more press, more photo shoots. All of it definitely puts a strain on our interpersonal relationships. Or so I assume. I don’t have anyone who’ll miss me if I’m touring around the country for a few weeks.

“Speaking of which,” Emmett barrels on, “you can all invite whoever you want, but let us know ahead of time. We’ll be setting you up with a tour manager as well. Rehearsals start next week.”

“We really get no say in this?” Erin says.

“You really don’t,” Emmett confirms.

“We could go back to doing our own thing,” Cameron grumbles under his breath.

It’s a non-starter and we all know it. We’d be insane to give up our big break, even if we’ve promised each other in private that the second we can get out from under the record company’s thumb and do our own thing, we will. It’s easier said than done thanks to some of the contracts we’ve signed, but I’m no lawyer, so all that stuff goes right over my head. It was kind of a blur anyway. One second I was working at a grocery store; the next I was a full-time drummer with a tour schedule.

“I’m not done,” Emmett says.

All four members of The Ten Hours groan.

“You aren’t doing the tour alone. In fact, that’s kind of the point. Rainier Talent Management has an up-and-coming talent on board, and we want you guys to work with them.”

Cameron sits up. Erin looks about to leap off her stool again. I sigh inwardly, but what difference does it make? So they want someone to open for us so they can benefit from our status. So what? We were those up-and-comers not that long ago. It only seems right we pay our dues.

Then Emmett continues, and it’s just about the worst words I ever hear in my entire life.

“Baptism Emperor is going to open for you on the tour.”

My blood drains out of my face. I feel it go, like a tide receding from the shoreline, leaving me windswept andbarren. My eyes widen. I clench my jaw so hard it hurts, but I can’t pry my teeth apart. I think my bandmates respond to Emmett, but I can’t hear them over the static roaring in my ears.

Baptism Emperor ishisband. I heard about them a year or so ago, just some local guys making noise on the Seattle scene. I haven’t let them out of my sight ever since.Heshouldn’t even be on the West Coast. He should be back in Baltimore with my disaster of a childhood. He should be in my memories. He should be a ghost occasionally haunting my nightmares.

He’s not. I knew it a year ago, but it just got a whole lot more real.

Keannen Summers, the drummer of Baptism Emperor and my first andonlyex, is horribly, horribly real.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Cameron says, nudging my shoulder with his.

I blink to find myself back in the studio with my band. They’re all looking at me, even Emmett, and I rush to collect myself. Keannen is a part of my past none of them know about. In fact, I’ve told them almost nothing about my past. I’ve kept it all secret from my bandmates, and they’ve been kind enough not to pry, even through all our years together. But now that past is crashing toward me whether I want it to or not.

“I’m just … surprised,” I manage.

That’s putting it mildly. Since the second I realized Keannen was in the area, I’ve kept him on my radar. It’s likebeing alone in the forest with a mountain lion and trying to watch it from the corner of your eye. I always knew Keannen’s proximity meant he could pounce on me at any moment, but this has got to be the absolute worst way for our ill-fated reunion to go down.

“You guys are a good match,” Emmett says.

For a heart-stopping moment, I almost think he means me and Keannen. Maybe we are, maybe we were, but we’ll never find out now. Not after what happened. Sure, it felt like magic and fireworks and all that stuff back in high school, but we never got the opportunity to put those budding feelings to the test before life intervened to snatch it away from us.

I doubt the years of separation and bitterness are going to help matters.

I try to smile anyway. My bandmates don’t know. They don’t even know I’m gay.

Holy shit, this is going to be a disaster.

“You’ll complement each other on the tour,” Emmett is saying. It’s hard to hear him through that buzzing noise ringing in my head. “There’s consumer overlap, which is a great opportunity for both of you. And hey, if you want to strike up some kind of rivalry, that’s fine by us. Great for social media.”

“Yeah, but we’re the bigger band, so we’re basically doing them the favor,” Kelsey says.

“Not if this works out the way we’re hoping it will,” Emmett says. “This could be huge. Massive. You thinkyou’re hot shit now? You haven’t seen anything yet. Plus, with both bands under the same management, it’ll lower everyone’s costs if you do the tour together.”

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