Page 22 of Wild Obsession

I tuck myself into my blankets and manage to fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

Chapter Eleven

Tim

THE NEXT NIGHT, I play the best show of my freaking life.

The second I step onstage, I know. The lights feel brighter, the crowd kinder.

When we start playing our first song, the music feels bigger, better, bolder. I don’t miss a single beat, drumming so hard sweat flies off my forehead. It plasters my hair to my face and my shirt to my back, but I don’t care. I’m moving like I’m possessed, the notes of every song pounding through me. I’m the conduit for something far larger than myself, something that spins the cosmos themselves.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this good while drumming. Maybe back when The Ten Hours were a small band playing local shows in local bars, back when thepressure was off, back when we were mostly onstage for fun. I didn’t need to worry about a manager being on my ass the next day or my bandmates deciding I’m not up to snuff or some music reviewer writing an article about how I’m the “weak link.” It was only about the music back then, and even though Erin has done everything in her power to preserve our integrity as musicians, we can’t escape the expectations pressing in around us when we’re selling out huge venues like the one we’re in tonight.

But I’m not thinking about the crowd. Even when they scream between songs, they’re nothing more substantial than a wall of sound. The blaring lights render everyone beyond my bandmates invisible. There’s no one but us up here, and I’m putting on this performance for them and them alone.

Erin, our lead singer, shoots me a glance before our next song. This tune is one I’ve messed up before, and we have an option for Kelsey to take over holding down the beat if we need it. Tonight, however, I nod at Erin, and she grins back at me, radiating confidence in my abilities.

I do everything in my power to reward her faith.

The moment the song starts, the flow of the music sweeps me up. “Crane” is a weird, wild, loud, punky song about the unpredictable ups and downs of falling in love, and the drumming is meant to reflect that. The beat and time signature changes, tricky tempos giving way to sudden patches of quiet. It’s a delicate dance, but I drop myself intoit and let the music carry me, flying through the song with a strange sense of ease. Maybe that’s like falling in love, too. Sure, it’s wild and unpredictable, but it’s also the easiest thing in the world when you give yourself completely to it, when you let go, when you stop thinking and justdo.

Kind of like last night in the shower.

Whatever the hell that was, it definitely involved me letting go. The memory should make me stutter, but I drum harder instead. A buzz thrums through my chest as I remember how Keannen put me on my knees and got me off using nothing but his voice.

When he told me to touch myself… I’ve thought about it, sure, maybe grazed a finger around the general area, but I never really considered … you know …puttingsomething in there. I mean, I’ve considered it. I just haven’t…

In any case, when Keannen told me to do it, I felt like I had no choice. Even as he sneered, it felt so good getting those words of encouragement out of him. Plus, it turned out he was right. When I pushed that finger inside myself, everything suddenly felt better, like I turned on the technicolor in a black and white film.

I don’t know what to do with that information, but I know that if Keannen told me to do it again, I’d obey without a question. It’s all the stuff we did in high school but so muchmore. Sure, we made out under the bleachers, even sometimes in his car in the parking lot after class. We had neither the time nor the means to get farther than that,though, so when everything went to shit, I figured I’d missed my chance. No one would ever touch me like Keannen. No one has ever affected me the way he does. Even with the glass of the shower stall between us, his voice was enough to turn my world upside down.

Of course, that won’t matter if he still hates me. Does he? He didn’t say anything last night. Didn’t talk much this morning, either. We woke up, got ready and headed downstairs to meet up with our bands and prepare for a grueling tour day. The shows themselves are fun, but the hours of set up, makeup, wardrobe, all that shit — it can harsh the buzz a bit.

At least that buzz returned when I got onstage. The Ten Hours are crashing through our final song of the night, and I’m crushing this set. I bring us home, even jumping to my feet and crossing my drumsticks overhead like we practiced during rehearsals. The crowd screams, and pyrotechnics go off on either side of the stage. The lights go crazy, then slam down all at once, plunging us into darkness while the crowd roars.

I stumble off the stage sweaty and elated. Erin throws her arm around my shoulders and we laugh and chatter all the way to the greenroom where we got ready.

“Holy shit, what a show,” she says. “Tim, you were incredible.”

“Seriously, man,” Cameron says, “that was great.”

It’s rare getting praise from him, and I smile as thewarmth spreads through my chest.

“I almost don’t want to leave,” Kelsey says. “This was the best night of the whole tour.”

Not just this night, I add for only myself. I don’t echo her sentiment aloud, but I certainly agree. Between last night and tonight, this tour has finally turned around. I’m absolutely vibrating with excitement, and all I want to do is rush back to my hotel room and hand this bundle of elation and confidence to Keannen to see what he’ll do with it. Maybe he’d put me back on my knees. Maybe he’d let me touch him. Maybe we could do it without glass between us. I don’t know if jerking off on opposite sides of a showermeansanything orisanything, and maybe I’m high from the rush of performing and performingwell, but all I want right now is for Keannen to say we can do that again.

I probably shouldn’t want that, but we’re here, and there’s no one left to tell us no. My parents certainly aren’t going to make an appearance during the tour. I haven’t talked to them in years. We’re free, but also stuck together, so if we want each other, why not go for it?

Does Keannen want me though? I’m not sure if he’s messing with me, if this is all a game. He got off, but maybe he’s experienced enough to do that just kinda … whenever he wants.

The crew starts ushering us around before we even have time to catch our breath. We’ve got enough time to take a shower, grab our bags and get the hell out of here. When Ihead back to my hotel room, though, I’m not thinking about getting in that shower alone. I open the door and immediately search for Keannen. I find his bag, but not him, and reluctantly throw myself into the shower, which is a shame because finding him here ready to order me around again is about the only thing that could make this night better than it already is.

I shower swiftly, since I don’t have a good reason to linger this time, then throw my stuff in my bag. I would have expected Keannen to be here way before me. I almost grab his bag, thinking he might have forgotten it, but then the door opens at last.

“What are you smiling about, Freckles?” Keannen says the second he enters.

I shake myself. Was I smiling? I didn’t even realize it. Maybe the sight of him makes me hopeful now. That’s kind of weird, considering how this all started, but also kind of not weird, considering we dated before. I liked him for more than his pretty face, even back then. He was wild and interesting and thrilling and fearless — and he’s still all of those things. Sure, he was kind of a jerk when this tour started, but something shifted last night, and the worry and dread that might batter my chest at his arrival twists and contorts into a tickle of desire instead.

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