Looking At Forever (The Rock Gods Book 4) (18 page)

Wheland reached for his backpack and pulled out his lyric book. As soon as the pen hit the paper the words began to flow from his fingertips.

~ Looking At Forever ~

Looking at you, I see forever.

Only a wish away.

Today. Tomorrow. Always.

One kiss from you and I lost it.

Everything I thought was real,

Has morphed into something complex and beautiful.

Looking at me, do you see forever?

Do you see the hopeful wish I have inside?

For this to be forever?

I’ll always want you by my side,

Together, as we’re looking at forever.

Wheland closed the notebook and set it next to him on the bed, then rubbed at his face. How on earth had a chance meeting with Sonny Roostarelli, after a minor fender-bender, turned into something this big for the two of them? Wheland didn’t have the answer to that question and the whole thing still surprised him it had happened at all. It was the best and most confusing thing to ever happen to him and he couldn’t be happier for it. Rooster was now the most important person in Wheland’s life. He was the first person Wheland thought of when he woke and the last person he thought of before he slept. He couldn’t imagine Rooster not being part of his life now and if that didn’t scream love, then Wheland was at a loss to what did, and that sure as fuck turned his world upside down.

Shit!

Wheland wondered how long it would be before he could be with Rooster again. Rooster had tossed around a few dates to visit before Wheland left L.A. for the tour, but all of them were a month or more from now. How in hell was he supposed to survive that long without Rooster by his side? As much as Wheland had a job to do with Ivory Tower, he also understood Rooster had responsibilities and a job with his own band. Somehow, Wheland was going to have to process Rooster couldn’t be available to him on a whim and learn to cope with it. Soon enough he’d be with Rooster again, that much he knew for sure, and however often that turned out to be, it would have to be enough.

For now.

There could possibly come a time in the not too distant future when Wheland would insist on having more of a commitment. But, right now he needed to relax and allow things to unfold at the pace they needed.

Hearing the anguish in Wheland’s voice nearly killed Rooster. He wasn’t sure how he managed to keep his voice from cracking with emotion when it came time to end their call. But he had to be strong for Wheland, needed to be that rock Wheland had come to depend on, even though Rooster was close to cracking in two himself. The other thing he heard in Wheland’s voice was desperation for Rooster to be with him on this tour. Rooster knew he couldn’t give Wheland nine uninterrupted months with him on the road, but he sure as hell needed to figure out a way to be with him for the launch weekend of the tour. That much he knew for sure. If he crammed in as much recording time as he could tomorrow, that would free him up for Friday and if he timed his flight right, he could be with Wheland when he took the stage.

Rooster hit the text icon on his cell phone and sent Trent a quick message.

“I need to be in NYC for the weekend,”
Rooster typed.
“I’ll record all day tomorrow and be back in the studio on Monday. You cool with that?”

A few minutes passed, then Rooster heard his phone beep. Trent’s reply was as Rooster expected.

“What’s in NYC that needs your attention?”
Trent asked.

“My man.”

Two simple words that meant so damn much to Rooster.
And
admitting that to Trent was enormous, but he doubted Trent saw much significance in Rooster’s admission, but it didn’t matter. Rooster would be on a flight first thing on Friday morning and nothing would stop him.

That’s all that mattered.

Chapter Fourteen

A ten passenger van arrived for them at Trump Tower far earlier in the morning than Wheland had wanted and brought them to the NBC studio at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. A three man team of burly looking bodyguards was a new addition to their entourage and Wheland didn’t try to hide his inspection of each of them. If these were the men responsible for his life, then he felt he had a right to check them out.

A brief introduction informed Wheland of their names: Fizzbo, Carter, and Squirt; which was an oxymoron for that guy because he was larger than the other two guards combined. All three were mountains of brawn and muscles, one had dirty blonde hair, and the other two had jet black; all buzz cut like they were ex-military, and they probably were. The aviator sunglasses made them look serious as fuck and intimidating.

Over their many years of touring the globe and having homes in Los Angeles, Wheland and the guys had had numerous bodyguards and sometimes whole security teams working for them. Although Wheland sometimes didn’t fully understand the need for it, he never questioned their employment. The fact all three guards riding with them today were armed with police issue Glocks concealed beneath their jackets in shoulder holsters and looked like they could snap an overzealous fan’s neck with a simple flex of their wrists did hold a certain appeal to Wheland. He also wouldn’t deny the peace it gave him from knowing that.

Their band manager, Jerry Magnus, was quick to explain Squirt had been assigned to protect Alex. Fizzbo and Carter would be in charge of security for Wheland, Cooper, Tony, and Jared. Sometimes not being the front man for a band had its perks and right now having a much less visible bulls eye for attention painted on their backs from the wackos was one of them. It seemed fans had a tendency to go crazier in the face of lead singers, more so than the rest of the band, and Wheland was just fine with that.

Chase, Danni, and Jayson would arrive tomorrow with their own security in tow. Wheland briefly wondered how Chase, Danni, and Jayson would feel about having the constant shadow of bodyguards following their every move. After all, this was the first tour for them. Wheland suspected it would catch them all by surprise and they’d be walking around with that deer-caught-in-the-headlight gaze. Wheland smiled at that visual. He remembered how stunned he had been on his first tour with Ivory Tower. It was one thing to talk about touring, but entirely different to actually hit the road for one, and none of them were prepared for it. Not even close.

At least Rooster was used to the hassle and necessity of security while on the road. Wheland exhaled a breath of relief knowing Rooster’s back would be carefully watched, should he join them at any point during the tour. If anyone laid so much as a finger on Rooster, he’d have no problem going after the perpetrator himself and making sure they never had the ability to touch anything ever again. Funny how protective he had become of Rooster.

Maybe that’s because you’re in love with him, you stupid prick!

Wheland followed his band into the NBC studio. They spent a few minutes in the green room, eating breakfast. Trays of bagels and lox, and a variety of coffee, fruit, and muffins were spread out for them and Wheland grabbed a plate to load with the food. Cooper quickly made a sophomoric demonstration of peeling and eating a banana, as if he were giving it oral sex.

“How old are you?” Alex asked Cooper and smacked him on the back of his head.

Cooper laughed and continued to deep throat his breakfast, this time adding suggestive moans.

Wheland shook his head. Some things never changed and a small part of him was happy about that.

The door to the green room finally opened and a studio assistant stepped inside and asked them to follow her. She brought them to the set and had them take their seats in the stools arranged in front of the cameras. Wheland grabbed a stool placed in the back with Tony and Jared, leaving the front two stools for Cooper and Alex. Their band manager remained off to the side of the set, but within earshot. A sound guy came out to wire them with lapel microphones and the interviewer took her seat facing them. She briefly explained the format and the questions she’d ask. Their band manager reminded the woman all personal questions were off limits and she nodded her approval. The last thing they needed was to have her start asking questions about Alex, aka Zander’s recent commitment ceremony with a woman
and
a man, then there was Cooper’s engagement to Jayson and Wheland’s new involvement with Rooster. It seemed the potential for interesting headlines lurked in every corner of their lives. Wheland smiled. No one could ever accuse them of being boring or noncontroversial. 

The interview was short and sweet, and done by one of the lesser known reporters on staff with this particular morning talk show. Wheland was at a loss for remembering the woman’s name, nor did he care much about the name of the show. It would all end up being part of the media blitz blur to promote the start of their tour. He kept his mouth shut and his head down, and did his best to blend into the background. Quiet observer. That’s the role he enjoyed playing the most.

They bounced around the various network stations downtown most of the day, then ended the day with a taped performance that would air later on a late night talk show. For that performance they arrived at the studio, played a two song set, then talked for a few minutes with the host of the show. After that, they were off the clock.

Management reserved a table for them at a popular mid-town deli to have dinner. The restaurant served mile-high sandwiches and had a patron list of iconic celebrities generations long. Including their security detail, they must have looked like a small army walking in to the restaurant and taking seats around a long wooden table. Wheland took the chair between Alex and Cooper and felt his cell phone vibrate in his shirt pocket. He saw that it was Rooster texting a message to him and couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips.

“Saw you on T.V. this morning. You looked good enough to eat,”
Rooster’s message said.

“I blew you a kiss,”
Wheland typed back to Rooster.
“Did you see me do that?”

Five seconds later came,
“I did see that. Wish it were the real deal.”

“That makes two of us,”
Wheland replied.

“Done with the interviews?”
Rooster asked.

“For today,”
Wheland typed.
“There’ll be more tomorrow.”

Cooper bumped his shoulder into Wheland’s and tried to read what Wheland was typing on his phone. “Are you sexting your man?”

“That’s none of your business, little man,” Wheland said.

“Send a big, wet one to Rooster from me,” Cooper teased.

Wheland faced Cooper and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be glad when Jay gets here.”

“Why’s that?” Cooper asked.

“Because I know once he arrives you’ll have the distraction you need to keep your mind occupied,” Wheland said. “Without him around you’re like a relentless mosquito.”

“Mosquito? Wow, that’s harsh,” Cooper laughed. “Besides, mosquitoes like to suck blood and we both know what I prefer to suck.”

Wheland nearly choked on the drink he was sipping. He managed to save the liquid from going down his throat the wrong way and blowing out his nose and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Regardless of my sucking preferences, I’m counting the hours until Jay gets his ass here, too,” Cooper said. “I’m not used to being away from him.”

“Tell me about it,” Wheland said with a sigh. When Wheland heard Cooper’s chuckle he glanced his way. “What are you laughing about now?”

Cooper shrugged. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you’d be dick-whipped. Makes me wonder what kind of magic Roostarelli has shooting from his...”

“Shut the fuck up, Coop,” Wheland said.

Cooper’s laugh became louder until Alex gave him a death glare. “Knock the shit off,” Alex said. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to see if we can eat dinner without being bothered.”

“Yes, Dad,” Cooper said.

Wheland smirked at Cooper’s comment. Cooper was lucky he had the bulk of Wheland sitting between him and Alex. Otherwise Wheland was certain Cooper would be feeling the burn of a slap to the back of the head right about now. A lot of the time Alex did play a fatherly role with them, while Wheland was known for being the quiet and deep thinker, Cooper was the immature goofball, and Tony and Jared were the secretive brothers everyone always assumed were up to no good.

Wheland glanced around the table at his band brothers. On some days they were as dysfunctional as families could possibly get, but even on their worst days the support they offered each other was unquestionable. Each of them would lay down their lives for the other, and that was a fact. Good or bad, they were the only resemblance to a real family Wheland had ever known, since the people that were biologically his family lacked the skills to pull off the role. But, that was part of his past and it made no sense wasting time thinking about it now. Rooster had asked a few times about his family and Wheland had managed to redirect the conversation. Soon enough he knew he’d have to have that particular conversation with Rooster. It was inevitable, wasn’t it, and didn’t Rooster deserve to know about his pathetic youth?

“Rehearsal is tomorrow at two o’clock,” Alex announced. When Alex realized Tony and Jared were locked in a private conversation and not paying any attention to him, Alex threw the slice of lemon from the rim of his glass of soda water at Tony. The fruit bounced off of Tony’s head and landed in his lap. “Did you hear what I said, dip shit?” Alex asked.

Tony and Jared stared blankly at Alex and that was answer enough for him. Alex repeated the time line for the rehearsal and their opening show, then Cooper interrupted him.

“More importantly, what time is the plane carrying Jayson scheduled to arrive?” Cooper asked.

“Early,” Alex said. “They’re taking a red-eye and should be at our hotel before you wake up, princess.”

“Good, then that means I’ll be busy until we leave for rehearsal, so don’t bother me or schedule anything because I’ll be indisposed,” Cooper said. “Got it?”

“Trust me, I intend to be busy, too,” Alex said with a wink in Cooper’s direction.

Wheland rolled his eyes. How nice for them to have the opportunity for a little playtime with their lovers before the first show. He’d be stuck with his hand again while listening to Rooster’s whiskey smooth voice floating through the damn phone.

“When is Dagger’s band arriving?” Tony asked.

Alex looked at his watch. “They should already be at the hotel,” Alex said.

Cooper began drumming his fingers on the table top. “Touring with Black Ice is going to be epic,” Cooper said.

“I think we’re all looking forward to that,” Alex said.

“Long time coming for our bands,” Jared said, pushing the unruly black hair out of his eyes.

“Our schedules never meshed to make it happen before now,” Alex said.

“Who’s going on first?” Cooper asked.

“I think we’ll be switching that for every show,” Alex said. “It will keep it interesting for the fans. Dagger volunteered to kick things off tomorrow night, then we’ll come out and play a few tunes with him before we do our own set.”

“Fucking A,” Cooper said, still banging out a rhythm.

A waitress appeared at the table and took their food orders and their security team went to work keeping the restaurant patrons away from them. Their band manager made an announcement to those hanging around that Ivory Tower would be happy to sign autographs after they finished their meals – but not until.

Two hours after dinner, Wheland and the guys arrived back at the hotel. It had been a long fucking day; after catching a meager four hours of sleep due to their trip east, Wheland was dragging his ass.

Loud laughter could be heard, as Wheland and the guys made their way down the hallway toward their rooms. A moment later, a tall, dark-haired man came stumbling into the hall from the open door of a suite.

“Dagger’s in the house!” Cooper shouted.

The guys from Ivory Tower surrounded Dagger and one by one offered him a hug.

“Already getting your ass tossed out of the room?” Alex asked, throwing his arms around Dagger’s shoulders. “That can’t be good.”