Page 16 of Reverb (Larkspur Book 3)

Miles hung up the phone after wishing Jerry, his East Coast manager, a good night. Glancing at his watch, he cursed. He had promised Liam that he would call him back within an hour, and now it was an hour and a half past that time.

After propping up his tablet, he opened the video chat app and dialed Liam. It took a few moments for Liam to answer, and Miles was wondering if the call would be picked up at all. When Liam’s face appeared on the screen, Miles was surprised to see a calm-looking Liam. He’d been expecting the stressed-out version. Instead, lying on his side on the bed, he looked relaxed and a little flushed. Miles had an idea he knew why.

“Sorry, I took so long. I got caught on a call with Jerry,” he said by way of greeting.

“That’s okay. I figured it was something like that. How is he?”

“He was giving me his report on Eclipse. He’s impressed and thinks we should sign them.”

Liam straightened up a little from the slouched position on the bed, the cloth robe he was wearing parting to reveal his lightly furred chest.

“That’s great. I take it you’re going to make them an offer?”

“I will. I’ve put some feelers out to a couple of labels and got some interest back, so I’ll get one of the team onto that tomorrow, so I’ve got something concrete to offer them.” Miles took a sip of water from the bottle he’d opened earlier. “How was the show tonight?”

“It went well. Only one minor glitch with Kellet’s mic failing, but Wil had a replacement out to him before anyone could really notice.”

“I’m sure Larry will fill me in when I get the report in the morning.” Miles eyed Liam. “How was Kellet?”

Liam gave him a grin that Miles hadn’t seen for a long time. “I think he was grateful because it meant he didn’t have to sing.”

“That’s one thing he and Mark have in common, apart from their drumming talents,” Miles mused with a chuckle. “Mind you, Mark didn’t enjoy performing at all towards the end there.”

“Um. Yeah. No, he didn’t.”

Something in Liam’s tone had Miles leaning forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he studied the other man. The earlier signs of being relaxed had all but disappeared.

“What’s wrong, baby boy?” Miles asked, keeping his tone low and soothing.

“Noth… nothing. Why?” Liam fidgeted on the bed, fingers toying with the loosely knotted belt at his waist.

“Look at me, Liam,” Miles commanded, and deep brown eyes snapped to his. “When was the last time you spoke to Mark?” he asked.

“Um. I messaged him a couple of weeks ago, I think.”

“You think, or you know?” Miles asked suspiciously.

Liam gave a half-hearted shrug, eyes dropping away again. “I think. I don’t really keep track, y’know.”

“He’s your best friend, Liam. I would have thought you’d be messaging every few days, if not talking to each other.”

“You know what it’s like when we’re touring, Miles. Hardly a moment to think, and besides, M… Mark doesn’t need to hear about us touring when he’s left it all behind.”

A tinge of something in Liam’s voice that had Miles frowning. It wasn’t bitterness, he thought, but something about Mark leaving was still upsetting Liam. Rather than pursue it over a video chat, he left the topic for now but scribbled a brief note on his desk pad to see how he could rearrange his schedule to get to Liam earlier than planned.

“You’re right,” he said. “How are you feeling? You said in your message you’ve been doing your exercises. I’m glad you’ve been doing what I asked you to do.”

“I’m feeling okay now. I was itchy after the show, but I took a long shower and did my breathing exercises.”

“What else did you do in the shower, Liam?” he asked, wanting confirmation of the idea he’d had.

“Nothing. Just washed myself.”

“Did you want to jerk yourself off?” Miles asked, dropping his voice low.

Liam nodded, his face flushing at the admission.

“Did you jerk off in the shower?”

“N… no.”

“Did you jerk off after you got out of the shower?”

Liam didn’t answer, so Miles prodded. “Answer me, baby boy. Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” Liam replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you for telling me. Why didn’t you wait until I called? You know I like watching you.”

“I… I remembered our last shower together and how… how good it made me feel, and I tried, Miles. I really did.” Liam’s voice caught as he broke off, admitting, “I wanted to wait until you called, but you took so long, and I was so hard, and I—”

“It’s okay, Liam. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Miles soothed him. “I am disappointed I didn’t get to see you stroke that gorgeous cock of yours, though. Did you play with your balls and finger your hole?”

Liam nodded, worrying at his lower lip.

“Then I’m even more sorry that I missed it. I bet you looked beautiful when you came. Did you get cum all over yourself?”

Liam tugged at the cloth belt, holding his robe closed, and pulled it open, exposing his abs and semi-hard cock that were still covered in his release.

Miles struggled not to reach to adjust his own aching cock. Goddammit. How was this boy so damn appealing? It had been years since someone had affected Miles like this. He longed to be there with Liam.

“Oh, baby boy,” he sighed. “You’re such a good boy for keeping yourself messy so you could show me. The things I want to do to you.”

Liam’s skin flushed at the praise, and his cock twitched.

“I’ll be with you in two day’s time. Do you think you can be an extra good boy and not touch yourself until I get there?”

“I can try,” Liam said.

“That’s all I can ask. If you don’t touch yourself, our time together will be even more pleasurable. The wait will be worth it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. Now, I want you to clean yourself up and get some sleep.”

“Thank you for calling me, and I’m sorry I didn’t wait.”

“Good night, baby boy. See you in a few days.”

***

Liam dropped the tablet onto the bed next to him and looked down at his body. The cooling cum on his abs was drying and itching, but he was reluctant to get up and wash it off. The look of heat and satisfaction in Miles’s steel gray eyes when he’d seen the state Liam was in had sent a wave of pleasure through him. He’d felt guilty for not waiting until Miles had called him, but the friction from the towel when he’d dried himself had brought back the memories of Miles cleaning him up the last time they were together.

He’d tried to distract himself, looking at fan comments and videos from the show, however, the tension in his body had wracked up to a point where he couldn’t stand it anymore, and he’d taken himself in hand.

The call from Miles had come through only a few minutes after he’d come, and he was now berating himself for his lack of restraint. If he’d only waited a few minutes longer, he would have had Miles there, directing him and telling him how good he was. Now, all he had was an itchy stomach and regrets.

Hauling himself off the bed, he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. Dropping the damp washcloth into the bath, he stared at himself in the mirror. Who was he? Fans saw Liam Jones, the bass player for Larkspur. Someone they admired and lusted after. He was vain enough to know he wasn’t hard on the eyes, with his soft dark curls and boyish smile wrapped in just-perfect length stubble. Just like the other guys, he received an equal number of propositions from people of all genders. He just didn’t take them up now. In the past, during the band’s early days and touring, he used to. He liked to get his dick sucked as much as any other guy, but most of the encounters had been unfulfilling.

The guys in the band saw him as a brother and the level-headed, maybe even boring, one. They didn’t grasp his need for control and information. How he loved poring over the stats of their sales and crowd attendance numbers. If the band hadn’t been picked up when they were, he would have pursued a career in business accounting, like his late mother.

Mark had understood, though. Mark appreciated the pleasure Liam got from the behind-the-scenes work and had never teased him about it. In the early days, he and Mark had used to wingman for each other, but after Mark met Selena, he’d preferred to head back to their hotel and Liam had not found it a chore to do the same and hang out with him, leaving the partying to Seth and Jamie.

The thought of Mark had the familiar guilt stabbing his heart, and he closed his eyes at the pain. He hoped he’d kept his feelings hidden when Miles had mentioned Mark, but from the way Miles had changed the subject made him think maybe he hadn’t hidden them that well.

He stumbled back to the bed, dropping his robe and crawling beneath the heavily starched hotel sheets. Switching on the brown noise app, he closed his eyes and willed his muscles to relax enough to get him to sleep, but all he could see was the memory of when Mark told him he was leaving the band.

“Hey, Lee. Gotta sec?”

Liam looked up from the spreadsheet he was reviewing and grinned at his bandmate and best friend.

“Sure. What’s up?”

Mark flipped his phone in the air, avoiding eye contact with Liam, who closed down his tablet and set it aside, recognizing Mark’s nervous behavior.

“What’s wrong, Mark? Is it Selena? Your family?”

“No. No, they’re all fine. It’s… it’s me.”

Apprehension gripped Liam with a tightness in his chest. “What’s wrong? Are… are you sick?”

“No. Yes. Sort of,” Mark replied, giving him a watery smile.

“Mark, talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

“I’m not physically ill, but I have anxiety, and stress, and that’s manifesting in physical problems, like vomiting and vertigo attacks.”

Liam slumped in the hard hotel chair, staring at Mark. He’d seen Mark throw up before a show, seen how he’d pace back and forth before going on stage. Everyone knew Mark suffered from stage fright, even now, sixteen years after joining the band. Hell, it had even become a bit of an in-joke that if Mark wasn’t nervous, it would be a crap show.

“What can I do to help?” Liam immediately offered. He’d do anything to help Mark. Help any of his bandmates.

“Nothing. I’ve spoken with my therapist, and with Miles, and we’ve all decided that my best course of action is to leave Larkspur.”

Liam stared at Mark in confusion, sure he’d misheard, but Mark’s sad smile made him realize he was serious.

“Wh… when?” he croaked out, voice cracking.

“Tomorrow night will be my last gig. Once we get home, Miles will release a press release, and it will give you enough time to find a replacement to finish out the tour.”

Liam sprang to his feet, needing to move. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to help? We’ve only got a few months left of the tour.”

“Lee, I’m sorry. I can’t. I wanted to go before we started this European leg of the tour, but Miles convinced me to hang on.” Mark gave him an anguished look. “I really hate letting everyone down, but I just can’t do it anymore.”

Liam’s throat thickened with despair and grief. His voice was rough when he spoke. “I understand.” Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he studied his best friend, finally recognizing the signs he’d missed. Mark looked so tired, with dark shadows under his eyes. Although never one to carry a lot of weight, he looked thinner than normal. His job as drummer was one of the most physical, and the guys had always joked that half their tour budget went on high-calorie foods just for Mark.

“I’m sorry,” Liam said.

“What for?”

“For not being there for you. For not realizing how hard it was getting for you each show we did.” Liam mutters a curse. “I should have seen it.”

“No! Liam, no!” Strong hands gripped Liam’s shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing, more you could have done or said to fix this. This is on me.”

“Mark, you’re my best friend. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want to upset the band dynamic.”

“Fuck you for thinking that!” Liam said. “Jamie and Seth are going to be just as upset as I am that you didn’t come to us earlier. When are you telling them?”

“I was going to tell them tonight, but as usual, they’ve fucked off to go drinking. I’ll talk to them in the morning.”

Liam shook his head, pulling his phone from his back pocket. “No. Band meeting. Now.”

“Lee,” Mark sighs. “Don’t call them back. I can tell them in the morning.”

“Too late,” Liam retorted, as the familiar ding of a message notification in the group chat sounded on Mark’s phone. “I’m not going to be the only one who knows this news. They deserve to know now as well.”

Shock, anger, sadness, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt filled the next few hours. Jamie and Seth had appeared quickly after Liam’s text, thankfully, no worse for wear, having only had time for a couple of drinks.

Mark had reassured all of them that there was nothing they could have done, and the evening had closed with a group hug. The following night’s final European show in Munich had not been to their usual standard, but the fans hadn’t noticed. Afterward, there hadn’t been the usual end-of-leg celebration, just a few drinks with the crew to thank them, and then a return to Los Angeles. After a mammoth session of paperwork shuffling, transferring rights and legal obligations, Mark had left them to return to his family home in Portland. It had been the last time Liam had seen his best friend.