Being in the internationally successful boy-band Right Time had been everything I had ever wanted and more. Well, except for one thing, or should I say one person? But I had long ago acknowledged that I couldn’t have both the life and the person and I should be happy with what I had. That worked until he showed up in my life again. And then nothing made sense.
For years I had pretended I didn’t care. Ignoring my feelings had become second nature to me. That was until my niece begged me to take her to see her favorite boy-band, Right Time, for her birthday, and I came face to face with him. In all fairness, she had no idea the can of worms she’d be opening. And to tell the truth, neither did I.
Be Warned: m/m sex
As I stepped into the room we were met by squeals and the sounds of giggling by both men and women. I looked up and smiled brightly at the fans gathered in there as a woman in a headset, whose name I couldn’t remember, began running around trying to organize the sudden chaos that had been caused by our arrival.
Behind me, Dillon snickered. Even though the man was now very much taken and in love with Ashlyn, he still enjoyed the affect we had on people.
When the headset lady—Veronica her name badge said—directed me over to a small group that consisted of one adult man with his back turned to me and three teenage girls practically vibrating, I groaned. Oh man, this was gonna be loud.
I opened my mouth to greet them, only for the man to turn around, and then it was like I lost my voice as my heart leaped into my throat.
Gaping for a moment, I eventually croaked out, “Byron?”
Fuck, that was embarrassing.
He stood at six foot one with a muscular swimmer’s frame encased in tight blue jeans and a simple fitting t-shirt, and short light brown hair. Byron’s hazel gaze pinned me where I stood. A little older since the last time I saw him, Byron still held his age well, looking more twenty-something than the thirty-six years that he would be now. Looking at the five o’clock shadow along his strong jawline, I had the insane urge to step forward and lick him.
The thought pulled me up short, and I blinked in surprise.
What the fuck?
The young girl standing closest to Byron let out a strangled sound, her wide eyes darting between us. I could just imagine what was going through the young girl's head given she and her friends had our all-access backstage “super fan” passes.
“OMG. He knows your name, Uncle Byron?”
Byron flushed, glancing down at his niece before he flicked his gaze back to mine. “Ah … yeah, Emma, I do.”
The girl began to ramble while her friends stared on in awe. “How? Why? When did you become so cool?”
“Hey, I’ve always been cool.” I chuckled at Byron’s offended expression, grateful that he was momentarily distracted. The man’s gaze had always left me feeling open and exposed.
“Well, I mean sure, you are the cool Uncle Byron who bought my friends and me these really awesome tickets, but this…”
“But this is like a whole new hemisphere of awesomeness,” another one of the young girls finished, almost breathless in her shock.
I had honestly never felt so self-conscious before that moment. Not because of the girls. As shallow as it sounded, I was used to the lust filled expressions on women’s faces of varying age groups. Byron was another story. I wondered what he must be thinking, of me, of the situation. Even after all these years the man still had it in him to make me second guess myself. A nervous tension I felt only in his presence. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.