I only want one bat.
I want Blaine on my team.
“Let’s go, bros,” Seth hollers, peeking his head inside the door. “You two fuckfaces can make out later. Right now, we have a club full of people to unveil our newest songs to.”
Owen gives me a wink, and we head out.
The crowd for the small club is jam packed and insane. I’m soaked in sweat as we make it through our usual set and a couple new songs. The last song is the new one, “Burn.” As soon as Riley starts pounding on the drums, I step up to the mic with my Gibson Les Paul and strum the first chord, finding myself thrust back to the cabin.
With him.
Long, hot, passionate nights.
Intimate conversations.
Being held and cared for.
Maybe I had misread things. It’s not unusual for me to fuck everything up. Blaine doesn’t seem the type to string people along or toy with them. He never once said he didn’t want to see me when we got back.
I hate that hope stirs in my gut, but it fuels me on to sing my heart out.
“Burn…burn…burn…” I croon. “Why won’t you let me burn?”
As I sing, I scan the sea of faces, feeling intensity coming from someone in particular. I seek out the heat like all those times I wanted the burn on my skin to fucking feel grounded in the moment. When my eyes lock on Blaine’s, I nearly stop breathing. But I keep singing the song, trapped in his gaze.
A man in a suit leans in close and whispers something to Blaine. Blaine’s hard look transforms into a beautiful one as he smiles. I jerk my gaze to the guy, glaring at him. My words become hard and raspy as I repeat, “Burn…burn…burn…”
The guy’s hand is on his bicep.
Touching what’s mine.
He’s fucking mine.
Did Blaine think I pushed him away? That I don’t want him anymore? Is he already dating someone else?
I finish the song and thank the audience.
And then I’m on the move.
“Get ‘em!” Owen howls into the mic before thanking the fans some more and telling them we’re headed back to the studio to record more songs like Burn.
As the crowd goes wild, I launch myself past the sea of people trying to throw themselves at me. I’m a man on a mission, and nothing will stop me.
When I make a break from the crowd and see Blaine perched at the bar with the handsy dude, I rush them. The guy’s eyes widen when I approach, and he wisely jerks his hand back. My hot gaze lands on Blaine.
He fucking smirks.
Smug bastard.
“Mine,” is all I say before grabbing his face with both hands and crashing my lips to his.
His hands are possessive as he clutches my ass, hauling me between his spread legs. Our kiss intensifies with need. He bites my lip, teasing me, but it’s in a familiar, affectionate way that warms my fucking soul.
“About damn time you came to your senses, my boy.”
My boy.
I’m fucking his, and he’s fucking mine.
“I need you,” I murmur against his mouth.
“And you’re going to have me.”
A chill shivers down my spine. Fucking finally.
Rubbing his neck anxiously, Xavi paces the floor of my living room. After getting a firm nod from Joshua that it was okay to bail on him, I brought Xavi back to my place. The drive was torturous as hell, my dick ready to explode, but after Xavi checking his phone for the fifteenth time since he got inside the condo, all that heat has turned fucking ice cold.
“Everything okay?” I ask with a frown, slipping out of my jacket and loosening the buttons on my shirt.
It’s been a couple weeks since we last spoke. I tried texting him, but got no reply. He clearly needed space. As much as it fucking killed me, I didn’t chase him. I don’t fucking chase people. I knew he would come to me when he was ready, and that happened to be a lot sooner than expected.
“We’re trending,” he says, shaking his head. “People took pictures of me kissing you.”
My jaw tightens. “And?”
“And my fans are going wild.”
“Bad wild?” I ask, turning my back to get a bottle of liquor from the cabinet. I still my movements when warm arms encompass me from behind.
“Good wild. They love the new songs and are hashtagging #XaviIsInLove.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “And is it true?” My tone is gruff as I turn and grasp his face, darting his eyes to mine. “Are you in love, boy?”
“I promised myself after Lex I wouldn’t ever lie if I was asked that question.”
“So don’t lie,” I prompt.
“Fucking madly,” he growls.
“Fucking madly,” I echo, crashing my lips to his and backing him across the room to my bedroom. Pulling away from his lips, I nip and tease the skin of his neck. I tear his shirt in half, littering the floor with the material.