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  “Listen With Your Heart”

  An M/M Gay Romance

  Max Hudson

  © 2021

  Max Hudson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.

  Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/ (courtesy of Jerry Cole).

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images and are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.

  Edition v1.00 (2021.01.06)

  http://www.maxhudsonauthor.com

  Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: RB, Big Kidd, Blue Savannah, Jennie O., and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Lane

  I remember how hard it snowed that night as I wandered the empty streets of Seattle. It wasn’t always bustling in the evenings, but never this sleepy. It was Christmas Eve. Even if you didn’t celebrate, the blizzard would keep you indoors anyway. I should have been inside with all the rest of the people in the city but instead I was trudging home alone leaving behind a trail of footsteps that were quickly being filled back up with freshly fallen snow. I could have called a taxi or something but I didn’t really feel the chill. I was so in my own head it was like my feet were moving on their own. My thoughts spiraled around my head looking for a way out but they kept knocking against my brain.

  “I promise you Lane.” My manager had firmly put his hands on my shoulders before I left the studio and began shaking me slightly. “Once we release your single, the world will know your name.”

  I had smiled confidently and nodded, but when I turned around I felt my lips quiver. The world? The whole world? Would know me?

  I looked up from my thoughts and startled at the scenery in front of me. It was a park. The leafless trees had thin, deadly clear icicles hanging from every branch. I had only been in Seattle for two weeks and the whole time I was recording song after song. I was chauffeured from my hotel to the studio and never really got to look around and get to know the city that might become my new home. I had no idea what park I was at or where in the city I even was. Had I really walked that far away? I had turned down my manager’s offer for a ride and I was beginning to regret that. I thought I could find my way back to the hotel just from recalling my view from the car rides back and forth, but with my manager’s words echoing in my head I hadn’t even seen where I was going until now.

  I should have let him drive me but I wanted to clear my thoughts. Back home, in Montana, whenever everything got too much, I would take walks and my feet would always find my way home eventually right when I was ready to face it all again. I missed those rolling golden fields and my family home. But I came all the way here to fulfill my dream. I had earned this shot and it seemed like it was all coming together. If that was true why…

  I saw a form standing on a bridge in the frozen park. They were as bundled up as I was in a dark winter coat that made them stand out starkly against the white powder snow. They almost seemed too convenient to be real. I hoped they would be friendly and knew where on earth I was. I carefully walked up the slippery planks, glancing at the frozen pond beneath us, and called to the man. “Excuse me, sir?”

  He didn’t budge or acknowledge me.

  “Sir?” I tried again.

  Nothing. I frowned. I guess he was set on ignoring me.

  “I just need help finding my way back to my hotel. Can you point me in the right direction?” I moved closer to him and finally he turned to face me. He looked at me and scowled, his bright eyes flashing before turning away again.

  “What? Why are you ignoring me?” He didn’t respond.

  I thought people from Seattle were friendly. Not as warm as the folks back home but certainly not this rude, and on Christmas Eve no less. Looking back, maybe I should have taken the hint and looked for someone else or actually found a cab.

  “I’m going to be a popstar,” I blurted out without thinking. He stayed statue still. “I’m not trying to brag or convince you to help me. I just can’t believe it.”

  He was like the perfect sounding board. Out in the loud silence of the snow-covered city in this frozen park I could finally say what I’d been thinking for the past two weeks to a stranger who listened to my every word but didn’t respond. I had the awful habit of thinking so much but not being able to say what I was thinking to people. I was terrified about how people would respond and got so wrapped up in what they would think or what they’d say back that I never voiced my opinions.

  “And the worst part is, I’m nervous about it!” I rubbed my gloved hands down my cold face, my cheeks no doubt turning very pink. “What kind of pop star is this nervous? Like stage fright is real and I’ve met a few who warned me about pre-show jitters, but this is so much more than that. I’m afraid.”

  The man still didn’t break his far-off staring into the winter night. How long had this man been out here? Wasn’t he freezing?

  “I’m afraid they’ll hate me. Hell, I’m afraid they’ll like me!” I let out a long sigh and saw my breath crystalize in front of me. “I thought I wanted this but...I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for this life.”

  I thought maybe the man would finally face me and tell me exactly what I should do. He’d tell me the answer to all my problems. It was a fantastical idea, cinematic even. But he never said a word to me that night.

  “Is there anywhere you can go?” I asked suddenly. I realized I had made this all about me. What if this man had nowhere to go? Surely this cold was too dangerous for anyone to be out too long. “I could buy you a hotel room for the night.”

  Still no response.

  “I’ll leave you alone then,” I said awkwardly. Hopefully he wasn’t in any danger. I shouldn’t have assumed. “Thanks for listening.” Even though he didn’t help me, he sort of did, without really doing anything. My head was finally clear. I had shoved all of my doubts deep down.

  I started backing aw
ay off the bridge. I threw him one last glance. If I hadn’t seen the frozen air from his breathing out, I might have thought I was imagining him. But he was a real man who was ignoring me and didn’t have the answers I was looking for. I finally turned around and started actually looking for a cab hoping there were some in the terrible weather that hadn’t let up for a moment.

  I did end up finding one eventually and getting back to my hotel without developing frostbite. I spent that Christmas alone in my hotel room watching animated Christmas movies on a local station and eating room service provided by my record label. In a few short days, my first single would be released and my life would be changed forever.

  I had no way of knowing this at the time, but as soon as I turned around from the stranger in the park, he had finally turned to look at me, about to apologize. I was already too far away for him to get my attention. He had just received some terrible news and didn’t mean to take it out on me. He didn’t know anything about me.

  He hadn’t heard a single thing I said to him that night.

  Chapter One

  Lane

  The stage lights were hot so I slipped off my black leather jacket, my favorite with the studs on the collar. Deafening cheers sounded muffled from the other side of the window I was sitting in front of that morning. I tossed my hair and looked at the crowd, mostly women, holding signs with my name in glitter paint. I smirked at them and rolled my eyes. That only made them cheer louder.

  “So.” The host of the morning talk show, some gossip show I was on, redirected my attention back to her. “You still haven’t answered my question. The photos that surfaced of you bringing ten different people back to your hotel last weekend. Was it something innocent or exactly what it looked like?”

  I looked at her golden nails, recently manicured. They reminded me of claws.

  “Assume what you want,” I grunted.

  “That’s hardly a satisfying answer,” she said in an almost chastising voice but her smile never faltered.

  “It satisfied me,” I growled around the double entendre as the crowd’s cheers grew higher pitched.

  I stood up, knocking the stool back.

  “Mr. Daughtry!” The host stood up with me, her facade dropping slightly.

  “I’m done here.” I yawned. “It’s getting boring.”

  “But we haven’t finished the interview.”

  “I said I’m done.” I scooped up my jacket off the ground, threw it over my shoulder, and walked off set.

  The director scrambled to cut the cameras and a few production assistants quickly closed the curtains so the fans couldn’t see in anymore.

  As soon as they were covered, I felt my shoulders sag. I looked back at the host who was picking at her nails. “I’m so sorry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You did fine. Could have been meaner, honestly.”

  “I guess,” I muttered.

  “Perfect Lane.”

  I turned to see my manager Rupert Smart, pushing his way past the production team. He grabbed my shoulders, which he was fond of doing and shook me.

  “Thanks,” I said hoping I didn’t sound too unappreciative.

  “You followed the script perfectly. And taking off the jacket? Perfect improvisation.”

  I really was just hot.

  “Now get out of here and ignore some of your fans. Walk right past them.”

  I didn’t really have enough time to mentally prepare to disappoint people like that, but it was all part of the character.

  It was never part of the original plan for me to become some bad boy. After my single was released it gained some traction but it really took off after my first interview. It had been an accident. I was so nervous I clammed up and couldn’t respond to any question with more than one word. Soon everyone was talking about how I was mysterious and rude but quote “in a hot way”. But in the end, it was for the best. When I became Lane the popstar with a mean streak, I didn’t have to be Lane from Nebraska who was terrified of talking too loudly. When I was him, I was able to go on stage without a single butterfly. I had stumbled my way into living my dream without my anxiety stopping me.

  That was three years ago now. My third album would be released in half a year and then I’d be back on tour. These next few months were going to be my first vacation since before I was whisked to Seattle in the first place. I had been nonstop on tour or working on the next album and hadn’t even seen this city in months. I was going to have to learn how to relax again, I didn’t remember how.

  Before I left, I fixed my black hair in one of the makeup mirrors. It was growing past my ears and I kept it messy looking, like I didn’t care about it even though the effect took makeup artists to perfect. My lightly tanned skin, dark eyes, and my sharp features highlighted by makeup made me look tired and scary. There was so much dark makeup around my eyes I wasn’t sure what was genuinely the bags under my eyes and what was part of the effect.

  With my appearance checked and jacket slung over my shoulder, I pushed the doors to the sound stage’s exit open affixing a scowl to my face. It was easy to slip into character now. The screams from the crowd were almost deafening. They were held back by the studio’s security guards, but they were having a hard time keeping the surging crowd at bay. It was like trying to hold back the ocean with only your hands. I barely glanced at any of my fans. My character resented them, didn’t need them. It didn’t really make sense to me; I was very grateful for them. The first time I sang to a full stadium I went back to my dressing room and tears fell down my face without me even realizing. I was just so happy so many people wanted to see me. They loved the music I worked so hard for and screamed the lyrics along with me. I was grateful. But Popstar Lane Daughtry couldn’t be seen needing people.

  I strolled past them, easily shaking off the hands that grasped for me. I just had to make it to the car ten feet away and then I could be on vacation.

  I saw her out of the corner of my eye before I realized what she was doing. A girl about five foot nothing with a bright red bob of hair skidded past the security guard and slipped under his arms to come between me and my car.

  “Mr. Daughtry,” she said, her blue eyes and the teeth of her smile were both deadly sharp.

  “Excuse me?” Luckily, my surprise could be written off as resentment.

  “I work at an independent record label,” she rattled off quickly as the security guards tried to contain the crowd who was emboldened by her reckless move. In any other circumstance she’d be dragged away already.

  “Get out of here,” I growled. Really, I didn’t want her to get arrested or anything.

  She slipped a card out of her jacket pocket and shoved it into my chest. “If you’re looking for a change of pace.” She winked. “Call me.”

  We both noticed the security guard barreling toward her. She dipped down low and scurried off, barely missing getting caught. I didn’t see if she managed to get away before I was pushed into the car by another guard and the door closed roughly behind me.

  My driver pulled out of there as quickly as he could as the crowd tried their best to recreate what that girl had done.

  I leaned back into the car seat and closed my eyes. I felt the card in my hand and let one eye open to glance at it. It was a business card. She didn’t seem like a regular fan but I thought for sure it would just be her number expecting me to ask her out on a date. The card was for Crabapple Records located somewhere in west Seattle. I had to give it to her that her recruitment tactics were unorthodox but she had better try artists who weren’t already signed. I had a good thing going, I wasn’t going to ruin it. I was happy.

  I considered tearing up the card but maybe I was just so impressed by her gumption that instead I folded it in half, put it in my jacket pocket, and then forgot about it. I let my eyes slip close again and took a nap in the car as it took me home.

  ***

  Due to my very committed fan base, my apartment had to be kept secret. Whenever I was spotted in public my
drivers took a complicated route through the city streets to lose any stalkers making a commute that should take less than ten minutes sometimes take an hour.

  My driver shook me awake and I blearily got out of the car and into the alleyway behind my apartment. I went in through the backdoor and took the elevator up to the top floor. I stepped out into my penthouse apartment and stumbled to my couch. I hadn’t been here in months. It was kept up by a housekeeper while I was gone so it wasn’t dusty. But as I looked around, it felt empty. I couldn’t keep much here since I was hardly home. All the furniture and decor came with the place and I never bothered to change it in any way.

  The mid-afternoon’s golden light filled my apartment through the curtains the housekeeper left open. I stared out over the city and felt my body begin to fall back into sleep. Maybe I would just sleep through my vacation.

  I pulled my jacket over me and curled under it, too tired to get up and get into bed or even fetch a real blanket. “I am happy,” I said out loud. I wasn’t sure why I needed to. It was like I was reminding myself.

  Unbeknownst to me, the business card slipped out of my pocket and fell under my couch and began, ever so slowly, to gather dust.

  Chapter Two

  Nate

  My phone in my pocket buzzed a series of long then short rumbles letting me know someone was at the door. I looked down at my dough covered hands and sighed. I didn’t think sugar cookies were supposed to be that watery. I chose a towel to ruin and headed to the door of my two-bedroom apartment. I looked through the peephole to see a bob of bright red hair, about the same shade as the ripest tomato I’d ever seen. I shook my head and let whatever whirlwind she planned on bringing in with her.

  She threw her hands up the moment she stepped through the door. Her eyes shined with something more intense than mischief. She twirled around a few times in my living room and then finally turned to face me, making sure I could clearly see her lips.