Page 71 of Dedicated

He went quiet for a handful of seconds, eyeing the bottom of the screen, then straightened in the chair. “I don’t know what’s next for me. Right now I’m focusing on my sobriety, and music’s going to take a back seat. There’s a possibility we’ll finish out the album, but I’m not counting on it. And I’m okay with that. Considering what a shitty partner I’ve been, it’s completely understandable.”

Les had never been much for apologies, much less sincere ones, but the earnestness in his expression flowed off the screen and rolled through me, along with the overwhelming need to be there with him.

Onscreen, Les nodded and his eyes flitted down again before his brows pulled together in a frown. “Yeah, of course I still fucking love him. I wish I could’ve figured out a way to turn that off, because I’d have done it long ago, but I can’t. Pretty much every song I’ve written over the last year has been about the bastard. I love him like fucking air, but I don’t… that’s just something I’ll have to deal with. I have no expectations of Evan, and honestly, he’s probably better off without me.”

As soon as Rita pulled into his drive, I shot out of the car, phone still in my hand as I raced for the door. His voice pitched through my speakers as he chuckled at some other comment I’d missed, but the words hardly registered.

I banged on the door, and when he ignored it, started pounding.

Les glanced away from the camera. “Just a second, folks. Keep the questions coming, and I’ll scroll back to get to them.”

Even though I’d spent the past twenty minutes staring at his face, I wasn’t prepared for how my pulse would kick into overdrive when he opened the door and I stood in front of him in person. He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, so slowly.

Myriad emotions passed over his face, and I could read every one of them: shock, elation, caution, hope, and the very last one, the one that did me in. Regret mingled with sadness.

The set of his mouth softened, his lips parting, and every thought in my head evaporated.

I launched at him and crashed my mouth against his. It wasn’t the most romantic kiss in the books. It edged on violent and was messy because he was taken by surprise. He stumbled backward, and I had to flail at his shirt to keep him upright. But goddammit, there was an entire month’s worth of pent-up emotion in it, and after a second, Les matched my fervor, his hands landing on my biceps and squeezing forcefully as he crushed me against him. I sank my fingers into the damp strands of his hair, inhaled the scent of his shampoo, and drowned myself in the taste of him. A quiet moan slipped from his lips, and he finally broke the kiss with a sudden tilt of his head.

“What are you doing?” Beneath my grip, a tremor ran through him, and his breath came harsh and hot against my cheek.

I swallowed a huge gulp of air and tried to collect myself. “I don’t know.” I released him to tug at the ends of my hair. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m kinda flying blind here. I guess Ishouldn’thave done that. You just opened the door and… shit, you occupy my every other thought. Do you know how annoying that is?”

“Um yeah. Trust me.” Les canted his head to find my eyes and laughed softly. “So you think you could do it again? Because Jesus Christ, I missed this and didn’t think I’d ever have it again.”

I answered him with another scorching kiss, and he slid his hands around to my back, under my T-shirt, and behind my waistband to clutch a handful of my ass. I groaned at the friction of his hips against mine, and was ready to get him naked right there when he pulled away again, his eyes going wide in alarm. “Shit, the video!” He dropped his voice. “Do you think they can hear?”

I licked my lips, thinking fast, then brushed past him, heading for the laptop and dropping into his chair once I got there.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, shutting the front door and stalking after me.

I adjusted the camera and started speaking. “First of all, this isn’t exactly how I’d planned on going about this, but here we are.” A barrage of WTF’s, heart signs, and boggle-eyes rolled up the feed. “And since Les has given you his account, I guess it’s time for me to give you mine. Side note: we really suck at PR, and Les is right—this would definitely be against a publicist’s advice, but I’m also tired of the facade. Everything Les said was true; he just ended the story early.” I felt Les hovering anxiously behind me, but soldiered on, determined to set the record straight because I couldn’t stand the idea of Les shouldering whatever fallout was to come on his own. “And I’m also done with image maintenance. I’ve always kept my private life private, not because I’m ashamed of it, but because it was mine and I thought, who cared? But I want to be transparent now for a few reasons.” I glimpsed some of the comments and nodded. “I’ve never been open with my sexuality or sex life because again, I figured it was my own business, but I guess being in the public eye changes things, and I don’t want anyone to feel ashamed about their sexuality or thinkI’mashamed.

“The idea that I could be hurting someone by not being forthcoming doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve been with both women and men, so yeah, I’d consider myself bi. But nothing prepared me for what would happen when Les and I embarked on the whole fake relationship thing and I discovered the feelings stirred up were very real for me.

“So when he said it was complex, he wasn’t lying. It was and it still is, and I don’t know what that means for our music, or even for us, but that’s the whole story.

“I hope you’ll understand that I’m gonna cut this short because I haven’t seen or talked to Les in a fucking month, and I need to do that now.” I reached for the mouse to shut down the feed, then paused and looked directly into the camera. “Last thing: Adam Slade, you can go fuck yourself.”

I clicked to end the feed and swiveled around in the chair to face Les. He stood with one arm folded across his chest, a stricken expression on his face. He pressed the knuckles of one hand to the mouth I’d missed so much it almost hurt to look at, then dropped his hand and shook his head. “I can’t believe you just told Adam Slade to go fuck himself. ”

“I know. It was probably too much. But seriously, fuck that guy.”

Les reached out to snap the top of his laptop closed. “Are you mad about the video? I wasn’t sure what to do, but I was tired of going through other people. I figured direct was best.”

“Nah, you’re right. For the best. I’m tired of it, too.”

He reached out, as if to touch me, then drew back, hesitant. “I missed you. So much.”

The past five minutes had been pure adrenaline and reaction on my part, and now the reality of being in front of him slammed full force into me. I grabbed at the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled until he sank down on his knees in front of me, and then I leaned, pressing my forehead to his, closing my eyes, inhaling him. “Same.”

“I’m so sorry, Ev.”

I couldn’t stand the sound of his voice cracking, or how his shoulders shook and curled inward. I slid from the chair onto the floor and put my arms around him. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for how I handled everything.”

How often do you two disagree on something, whether music-related or not?

Evan:Constantly.