Looking At Forever (The Rock Gods Book 4) Read Free Page A

green and Wheland moved through the traffic and followed behind the Mercedes. He pulled into the very club he was headed to when he set out on this angry trip down memory lane. Wheland parked beside the car for a minute and tried to get his head back on straight. Looking to his side, he saw a man bent over the back end of the Mercedes, rubbing his hand over the bumper examining the damage. Wheland took a deep breath and leaned over to collect the insurance information from his glove box.
    He stepped out into the sunshine, shut the door to this car, and adjusted the sunglasses from the top of his head back to the bridge of his nose. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he walked to the front of his car and looked at the chipped paint and dent.
    Fuck!
    “Do you always drive in bumper-to-bumper traffic with your eyes closed?” the man asked.
    Wheland heard the man’s voice before he saw him and stood up quickly at the sound of the rich tenor. A chill rolled over his skin and lifted up the tiny hairs on his forearms. Wheland spun around to face the man owning that voice.
    “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” Wheland apologized. “My mind was elsewhere. I’ll pay for whatever damage was done to your car.”
    Wheland watched the man freeze in place and a slow smile curled the most amazing mouth he’d ever seen. Dark, tanned skin, thick wavy hair, and brown eyes that stole Wheland’s breath. Literally and completely.
    Holy. Hell.
    “Wheland, you stupid fuck,” the man said and crossed his arms over his wide chest. His smile grew, exposing beautifully straight white teeth.
    Wheland stared at the gorgeous man with the defined biceps, narrow hips, firm thighs, and a nice package concealed behind the zipper of his jeans. Wheland’s brain dug deep to remember who this was and how he might know him. Then, suddenly it hit him.
    “Roostarelli?” Wheland asked. “I haven’t seen you around in fucking years!”
    “Leave it to me to get back into town and have the likes of you hit my rental,” he said, still grinning at Wheland.
    Sonny Roostarelli, Rooster to his musician buddies, had been professionally involved with several different bands for seventeen years. His talents ran from playing almost every instrument, to writing music. Some of his song compositions had made it on the Billboard Top 100 and kept him popular with bands in the rock and country rock genres for a long time.
    “I thought you retired and moved to Florida,” Wheland teased.
    Rooster looped a muscled arm around Wheland’s neck and pulled him in for a hug. “I’ll never retire,” he said. “You know that, and if I did, it wouldn’t be to Florida.”
    Wheland accepted the hug and embraced the solid feel of the man pressed flat against him. He also loved the scent of Rooster; a mixture of musk and something that smelled a lot like vanilla. It made Wheland want to lick Rooster’s neck to get a taste of the fragrance on the man’s skin. Realizing how gay that sounded in his head, Wheland pulled back from the embrace. When he did, he met Rooster’s gaze, fluid brown eyes with flecks of gold around each iris.
    Jesus! You are fucking beautiful.
    Wheland felt the arousal wash over him, starting at his head and reaching his toes. The heat radiating off the man was overwhelming. Why didn’t I ever notice how hot Rooster was to look at all those years ago? It may have had more to do with Wheland only recently admitting he had an attraction to men, and this particular man positively took his breath away.
    Wheland stepped out of Rooster’s embrace and smiled. If Rooster only knew what he was thinking about him right now, the guy would surely have him arrested.
    “If you’ve got some paper, I’ll write down my insurance information for you,” Wheland offered.
    “I’m not worried about the car,” Rooster said. “Did you miss the part where I said it was a rental?”
    Wheland laughed. “They’ll still expect you to pay for the repairs,” he said.