Page 61 of If the World Was Ending

Of course, he saw that Ford saw the text right away. But Hunter still had to wait almost five minutes before Ford responded.

FuckFace

Colby didn’t mention you were here.

Surprising him.

FuckFace

It’s sold out.

Can you just tell him please?

Hunter was going to have an even harder time than normal, not telling this guy to go fuck himself when he finally saw him. Which should be in a matter of minutes if Ford did the respectable thing. Hunter waited all of fifty-seven seconds before he messaged Ford again.

Or don’t and I’ll show Colby your texts later.

FuckFace:

Alley. Left side of the building. There’s a door near the back.

Hunter forced himself to type a thank you before following the directions. The door burst open when he was a couple of feet away, and there was Colby. He looked really fucking good in a pair of worn low-riding Levis and a white T-shirt with a faded gray logo Hunter didn’t recognize. “No fucking way!”

And there was that bright dimple-popping grin Hunter had been craving. “Surprise!”

“Fuck… I’m so happy.” Colby took a step forward but then looked down the alley. People were wandering by on the sidewalk. He could also hear the hum of the concertgoers lined up to get in. “Get over here. Now!”

Hunter jogged the remaining distance, and Colby grabbed his arm and hauled him into the venue. The door opened into a small vestibule behind the stage, crowded with equipment and people rushing by, carrying things. “I can’t believe this.”

“I was hoping to buy a ticket, but you’re sold out, rock star,” Hunter said with a smile.

Colby was still holding his arm. Squeezing it, like he was trying to prove that Hunter was flesh and bone and not a hallucination. “You’re here. We’re standing here. Together.”

“Colb!” Ford’s voice cut through the euphoria. He was at the end of the long hall behind the stage, arms folded, brows pinched. “You have sound check with the new mic in five.”

“Thanks!” Colby called back without tearing his gaze from Hunter. He seemed to be examining him, his eyes gliding over every aspect of Hunter’s face.

And then he turned and dragged Hunter down a short hallway to their left. It had a door on the right with a piece of paper taped to it that read "Tidal," and directly across the hall was a door with a makeshift sign that read "Wolfe." At the end of the hall was a door with a handicap bathroom sign on it. Colby opened that door and pulled Hunter inside with him.

The light was the motion-activated kind and turned on as soon as they stepped inside. Colby didn’t let go of Hunter’s arm until the door closed, and then he wrapped him in a hug that would make a bear jealous. He clung to Hunter, and Hunter wrapped his arms around Colby and hugged him back with the same ferocity. Colby curled his face into the shearling collar of Hunter’s leather jacket. He could feel Colby’s lips ghost the side of his neck as he said, “I fucking missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too,” Hunter confessed.

Colby’s lips pressed into Hunter’s neck. It was a kiss. And it calmed a storm in Hunter he didn’t want to admit had been raging inside him. There was no denying the stillness that washed over him as Colby’s tongue slipped out to taste his skin, just above where he’d marked Hunter before he left to film in Canada. God, that felt like a lifetime ago now.

Hunter reached up and grabbed Colby’s face in his hands, pulling him back gently so he could drink him in again. He stared at Colby’s pouty mouth. How did it feel? What did it taste like? Colby grabbed Hunter’s face too. His long fingers sliding through his hair just behind his ears. “What are we doing?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

Hunter leaned in. Colby did too.

Someone pounded on the door.

Chapter 20

Not rumors

“COLBY!” Ford’s sharp tone made them break apart. Hunter realized it was kind of warranted. They were in a bathroom together. Alone. It was weird. “Mic check!”