It was breaking Kyle’s heart, but seeing Colt in the state he was in, looking like he did… it was one thing personally, but professionally….
“Thank you so much for these tracks. I can’t wait to use them. But, baby, I… I’ve decided to cut our live improv piece from the show.”
“Oh.” There was a pause, like Colt had stopped breathing for a second, and then he nodded, once, and eased his hand away. “Okay. I guess I better let you get back to work, then. You’ll call when you need me?”
“Colt.” Fuck. Okay, he’d expected something like that, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing him. “I always need you. It’s not about us; it’s about the work.”
“Sure. It ain’t no thing. I’m gon’ go get some writing done, then make my rent.” Colt leaned in, kissed his cheek. “Have a good day, cher.”
Colt put up that wall so fast it left him breathless. “Yep.” He watched Colt turn and leave, taking the rest of the oxygen in the room with him.
He couldn’t have Colt onstage looking like that. He couldn’t wonder every night if Colt was stuck in a session and might not show up on time. He couldn’t count on someone so overextended that setting their own priorities was out of their hands. He’d have done the same with any dancer with similar issues, and had.
It wasn’t personal. It was business. Colt had to get that, if they were going to be a thing.
There was a difference.
Kyle sighed and hopped back up onstage. Time to get to work.
* * *
“What’s wrongwith you, son?”Norv asked him, eyebrows frowning like a hound dog’s. “Ain’t you got to work with your man?”
“Lost the gig. Y’all want to write or not?” He didn’t want to talk on it, not really. He didn’t want to have to say that he wasn’t good enough for Kyle to dance for. Not out loud. That could just be his dirty little secret.
“Why for?” Ryder stared at him, head tilting like a dog hearing a whistle.
“I was late.”
“Dude.”
“Yeah. My bad. He’ll find someone else. Come on. Work, huh? I got to be in the studio at five. This gives us a whole day.” He’d be off at midnight, and then he could go home and… well, he’d probably have a beer or three, play some sad songs, and then sleep.
“But….”
Norv touched Ryder’s shoulder. “It ain’t no thing, right? Let’s write some amazing shit. How about a revenge song? Something with bullets and tears?”
“Bullets are tricky, babe,” Ryder pointed out. “How about something where we drown someone in the bayou. I bet we could sell that.”
“Hm. Not sure we’d find a lot of folks wanting to pick that one up.” Norv tapped his fingers on his guitar. “Jealousy. That green-eyed monster sells a lot of music.”
“Ooh. Been there. I can get into that. What do you think, Colt?” Ryder leaned right over that little notebook and put pen to paper.
He started doodling, eyes closed, letting himself pour all his hurting into his fingers. He was a blues man, wasn’t he? He was born to turn his own pain into song.
“Maybe we need a beer to get us thinking right, Norv. I heard they got barbecue and cowboy bars in this city. How about that?”
“Sure. I read that Chris Shivers and a bunch of bull riders came up here and got into a fight at a bar. Did ten thousand smackeroos of damage to a guy’s mouth.” Norv rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know you could do that much damage to a single mouth.”
“I don’t want to go to that bar.” Truth be told, he didn’t need a beer, but he didn’t want to be a butthead, either.
“We don’t gotta go, Colt. I was just thinking you…. We don’t gotta go. I’m good for a pizza too. You wanna play something for me and I’ll pick it up from you?”
“We ain’t broke up yet, I don’t think. He’s high-dollar and I’m broke-dick. Y’all seen his house.” He wasn’t stupid. At some point they would separate out into oil and water. “I just want to enjoy knowing him while I can.”
“You ain’t that broke. I see the writing part of your paycheck, at least, and you work your ass off. You’re worth something.” Norv swatted him. “If he makes you feel that way, it’s time to let it go. Hell, come to us. We’ll let you stay in the guest room for as long as you want. You want to come now? We’ll go. Right now.”
Colt laughed. “Y’all are good to me.”