shoulder, which annoyed him a little. Gavin should be paying attention to him , not whoever was butting in on their conversation.
“I, uh … Have fun with that?” Gavin blurted out, and just like that, any good mood that had developed was gone. He was right back to being furious at the young man.
“You brat,” he seethed. Have fun? Being upstaged by his opening act? Yeah, who wouldn't have fun with that?
He reached around and smacked Gavin's ass suddenly. It was the sort of thing that could probably be brushed off by anyone watching as just playful affection, but Mark put some real sting into it.
“Break a leg out there, kid. I'll see you later.”
It was a promise, a deadly sincere one. He was still angry with the younger man, but he also wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anyone else, he was starting to think.
With that, he turned around, almost walking right into Liam. His lovely big brother, who seemed to have made it some sort of mission to protect poor, innocent little Gavin. Honestly, Gavin probably did need protecting from Mark.
As Gavin performed, Mark watched. He was torturing himself, and he should be working on his own warm up. Instead, he watched as a shirtless Gavin and his band whipped the crowd into a feverish frenzy, cheering and screaming and clapping, singing along to all of his songs.
While he watched, Mark's mood got darker.
When Gavin came back, he was covered in sweat and glowing. He poured everything into these performances, that would be visible to anyone who was in the room when Gavin played.
“Why am I even here?” Mark asked, not realizing that anyone was listening or would answer.
“Because you're Mark Tisdale, and the fans came to see you and Crossroads,” Gavin said simply, looking at Mark with an expression that the older man found hard to read.
Mark snorted, not that easily placated.
“I could disappear and no one would give a shit,” he growled, and then he went out to play his set.
* * *
The crowd didn't seem to be cheering as loud for Crossroads as they had for Star Crossed. Usually, playing could take Mark's mind off of anything, but not right now. The reception he got seemed lukewarm at best, though strangely, none of the other members of his band seemed to feel anything like that.
When the show was over, when the encores had been sung, Mark stormed backstage. It was time to find Gavin, to find out just what he'd meant by the things he said, who he thought he was fooling.
Just like that, his mood went from dark to completely black, ugly and jealous and with a possessiveness that really made no sense.
Gavin was gone. He'd already left. He hadn't stayed to watch Crossroads perform, damn him. Content with upstaging him, the little brat had gone.
That wasn't going to stand. It just wasn't. Gavin was playing with fire, and it was about time he got burned.
Chapter Seven
Gavin
The whole thing had been too depressing for Gavin to handle. Mark just didn't have the same energy that he usually did, and none of it made any sense. He seemed to be jealous of Gavin, but Gavin was only where he was today because he admired Mark so much.
So when his set was over, after only a few minutes, Gavin had sighed and turned away.
“I'm not up for another party tonight, guys,” he told the rest of his band, and they winced and nodded. It was comforting, actually, that they were just as unused to this as he was. At least he wasn't alone.
The previous night had been the epitome of what rock star life was, but tonight he was going to take for himself. He had some things to sort out in his mind, not to mention some serious, unbroken sleep that he needed to get.
So Gavin stripped down into his boxer briefs, messed around on his phone a little bit, and then went to bed. It was sort of funny. At the same time that he was pulling the blankets up to his chin, he realized that Mark was coming off
Learning to Kill: Stories