Heartstrings Read Free Page B

a great job of reminding him just how much fun live music could be.
    Still, when the house lights went dark and the crew scurried up onto the stage in preparation for the main act, Cal felt his stomach clench. He felt strangely nervous, like a man prepared to accept bad news. Or like a kid who’s been called into the principal’s office with no clue what he’s done.
    “You want another beer?” Yanmei asked. Cal nodded with enthusiasm.
    She squeezed off into the crowd, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts. Which weren’t great company for the moment.
    Almost as soon as Yanmei stepped away, a short blonde woman in a black tank top sidled up next to him. Cal could tell with one glance what her intentions were. She was eyeing him up like a piece of meat.
    “That your girlfriend who just took off?” she asked. Cal blinked, taken a little aback by the question.
    “Uh, no?” he answered without thinking.
    The woman’s eyes—framed by a thick swish of dark eyeliner, a look Cal might have appreciated if he appreciated that sort of thing—lit up. She smiled—and again, it was probably a perfectly beguiling smile—and boldly put a hand to Cal’s side. He didn’t quite smack her away, but he took a step back, putting some deliberate distance between them.
    “So, you been a fan long?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from something awkward. Cal wasn’t exactly in the closet, not to those who knew him well, but he wasn’t openly out, either. Dating and sex were mostly abstract concepts to him these days, regardless of gender. Anything along those lines was a conversation he preferred to avoid.
    “A few years,” the woman said with a quick smile. “If you ask me, their old stuff was better. But everybody says that about every band, don’t they?”
    “No,” Cal found himself agreeing. “Their old stuff was definitely better.”
    I hope she doesn’t recognize me, Cal thought. But that would be tough. He hadn’t played any high-profile shows and he’d been skinnier then. God, and he’d had that horrible goatee...
    Yanmei returned with a couple of giant plastic cups in her hands, rescuing Cal from both the invasive woman and a trip down memory lane. He took his drink with profuse thanks. As soon as Yanmei returned, the blonde woman gave her a lengthy look, then departed.
    A lot of Cal’s male friends had made comments to him over the years about not being able to understand women, like they were some mystery of the ages. Cal agreed. But privately, men confused him just as much. Which was why he was happily single and married to his job.
    The background music cut off. The lights dimmed yet further. A hush fell over the crowd, then an excited cheer. Black silhouettes barely discernible in the dark arena, the Sinsationals filed up the steps and took the stage.
    Cal stared at the thick, dark outline closest to him. He could tell purely by the shape of it that it was Blake.
    The lights flared up, the band kicked into a high-energy song, and Cal forgot how to breathe.

    * * *
    U nder the glitter of golden stage lights, Blake Bradley looked larger than life. Taller than Cal remembered. Ethereal somehow. And that wasn’t just because he was a gorgeous human being. There was something about him, some unquantifiable stage presence.
    There always had been.
    While Cal had filled out thanks to hours upon hours in the gym, Blake had grown hard and lean. He’d shaved the sides of his head and acquired just the right amount of stubble, that semi-disheveled look that was so popular these days. He wore tight-fitting jeans and a white wifebeater that flattered the muscular outlines of his chest and stomach. The green canvas jacket he wore brought out his eyes, even from so far away.
    Cal was mesmerized.
    The song wasn’t one he was familiar with, but that didn’t stop him from getting just as caught up in it as the rest of the crowd. The guitar hook was infectious, simple but rambunctious in a way that pleased