Rockstar Rivals: First Time Gay Romance by Natasha Ryder Read Free Book Online Page A

stage, and probably was headed off to another party even as Gavin started to fall asleep.
    He was almost there, at that fuzzy point where daydreams because true dreams, when out of nowhere there was a hammering on the door.  Just like that, sleep fled, and Gavin sat up in bed, groaning and rubbing at his eyes at the rude awakening.
    “Come out here, you cowardly motherfucker,” Gavin recognized Mark's voice, even though it was distorted with anger.  “Get your ass out here!”
    What the hell?  Was Mark completely insane?  Forgetting his state of undress, he stumbled out of bed and yanked the door open, gazing at the older man in confusion.
    It looked like Mark hadn't even changed after the concert, and he was covered in sweat.  Things all made a little bit more sense when he saw that the older man was clutching a bottle of Crown Royal, which was open, the whiskey filling the air with its strong, heady scent.
    “You're drunk,” he stated flatly, sure of himself.  “What're you doing here, Mark?  I'm trying to sleep.”
    Mark shook his head.
    “You think you're too good for me now?  You think that you can just leave and not watch me play because you're so much better than I am?  It's not bad enough that you have to show me up, make everyone love you.”
    Gavin stared at him, sleep fleeing as he stared at Mark.
    “What the hell?” he asked, but his tone was more plaintive than angry.  Maybe he should be furious with this man for practically breaking down his door and then yelling at him, accusing him of strange, baseless things, but he wasn't.  “You have to go sleep this off, man.  You're hammered.”
    Mark pushed his way into the room, and Gavin sighed, but shut the door after him.  It seemed like there was going to be some sort of showdown, and honestly, he was glad for it.  It was about time.  Long overdue, really, even if Gavin had just been planning to go to bed early tonight.
    This was way more important, in ways that Gavin wasn't even sure how to explain.
    “I'm not drunk.  Not really.”  Mark put his bottle down on the side table, and then turned to look at Gavin with eyes that burned.  “I'm pissed off, you little bastard.  Why don't you just take over the whole show?  Play with both bands?  I bet you'd like that.”
    Gavin stared at him, and some pieces of the puzzle really started to fall into place.  He'd had some ideas before, of course, but now he was more sure.
    “Because the fans didn't pay to see me, Mark,” he said quietly, looking at him steadily.  “They paid to see you, and Crossroads.  Not me.  It's all you.”
    Gavin was relieved to see some of the anger go out of Mark.  The older man sighed and flopped down on the bed, rubbing at his eyes.  It must be exhausting to be so angry all the time, Gavin realized.
    “No,” the older man said, and now he sounded more sad than angry.  “No, I don't see that.  I read a review of the show online, and they said they'd rather see you than me any day.”
    Gavin growled softly.  This was because of a review?  One stupid review?  Even he knew that some reviewers were just assholes and would say anything just to get a rise out of people.
    “Then the person who posted that was an idiot,” he said firmly.  “I know what the fans think, and who the hell else matters?”
    Mark raised his head, and he was suddenly glaring at Gavin once more.  Damn it, what had he said now?  Dealing with Mark was like walking through a field littered with landmines.
    “And then you didn't even stay to watch me play,” Mark growled, and Gavin sighed.  Since when had his opinion on anything mattered to Mark?  Except that it seemed that it did.
    “It hurt to watch,” he said simply.  He hadn't wanted to go into this.  He really barely knew Mark, and making these sorts of personal comments were a good way to piss someone off.  But then, Mark was already so pissed off at him.  “Because I could tell you were mad.  You're always mad