Looking At Forever (The Rock Gods Book 4) (31 page)

Wheland laughed. “It revealed your perfect fucking dick to me. Once I saw that, I was a goner. You were the complete package for me. I had already fallen for your mind, loved your body, and your musical talent. But, that dual blowjob revealed a chemistry between us that went beyond what I thought was possible. I was lost... completely fucking lost.”

“And then I freaked out,” Rooster said.

“Yeah, you did, and I was left wondering if you were pissed off because I touched your dick,” Wheland said.

“I was scared.”

“What the hell for?” Wheland asked.

“That night was a turning point for me,” Rooster said. “I think it brought the potential of what could grow between us into focus and it scared the shit out of me. I’d never felt that overwhelmed before and it happened so quickly.”

“I remember staring at your ass when you bent over to inspect the damage after I hit your car,” Wheland said. “It was a lightning bolt moment for me.”

“Powerful,” Rooster said.

“It was. For many reasons,” Wheland said. “I am so relieved we decided to jump into the deep end with this together. I’ve never been happier or more... content.”

“Even when thousands of miles separate us?” Rooster asked.

“Especially then,” Wheland said. “Knowing you love me and are home waiting means more than I can say. I never thought I would have something like this in my life.”

“Yeah, it is pretty amazing,” Rooster said.

A smile slowly spread across Rooster’s face. Wheland silently held Rooster’s gaze.

“It’s getting late for you, babe,” Rooster said. “And I can tell you’re getting really tired. Hang up so you can get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll call you from the road,” Wheland said.

“Sounds good.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rooster walked in to his new doctor’s office with three minutes to spare. The traffic had been a beast getting downtown on this afternoon, but he was here now, and very ready to get this blood test done and over with. Being newly back in the L.A. area, he’d been referred to this particular doctor by his bandmates. He had no idea if he’d like the doctor, but for now he’d get this blood test done and worry about future visits with this doctor later.

He filled out the form the receptionist behind the sliding glass partition that asked for his personal information. He debated for a few seconds, then decided to list Wheland as his emergency contact and current address. He hoped Wheland wouldn’t have a problem with that, but just to be sure he’d mention it the next time they talked.

“You’re here for blood work today, Mr. Roostarelli, so you won’t be seeing the doctor. Correct?” a silver haired nurse asked Rooster. She took the sheet with his personal information and directed him down the hall toward an examination room.

“Yes, that’s all I need today, but if you’d like I can make another appointment for a physical while I’m here,” Rooster replied, stepping into the small sterile room.

“Your previous doctor up in Vancouver forwarded your medical records to us yesterday. From what I’m seeing in your file, it looks like you had a whole blood panel done five months ago and everything was fine,” the nurse said. “That would mean you should be up to date, unless something has changed.”

Rooster took a seat in the chair next to the examining table. “I may have recently been exposed to Hep B,” Rooster said.

“Oh, I see,” the nurse said. “Were you notified by a partner to get tested?”

“My current partner was contacted by someone,” Rooster said. “He may have been exposed from her.”

“Your partner is a man?” the nurse asked. “That puts you in a high risk category.”

No shit, Sherlock. Did your nursing education teach you that?

Why couldn’t he have gotten a younger, less judgmental nurse to have this conversation? He recognized her tone and he didn’t like it. Even more reason to get this blood test done and fucking leave.

“That’s why I’m here,” Rooster said. “I’m pretty sure I’m fine, but I’d like to have that confirmed.”

“Okay, we’ll get that taken care of for you,” the nurse said. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, then reached for Rooster’s left arm to tie a tourniquet and readied the items needed to do the blood draw. “Do you practice safe sex, Mr. Roostarelli?”

“Of course,” he said, giving her an eye roll.

“We have pamphlets by the door if you need information regarding STD’s,” the nurse said.

“I’m not new to being gay, ma’am,” Rooster said. “I’m well aware of the risks and I’m careful. However, I’d be interested in getting the vaccine to prevent any future exposures being a concern.”

The nurse prepared the needle. “Slight pinch,” she said. She slid the needle into Rooster’s vein and began to draw the blood from Rooster. “The vaccine isn’t one hundred percent but it certainly helps, especially since you are in that high risk group.”

The repeat of that comment earned the woman another eye roll from Rooster. He couldn’t get out of this office quick enough. Soon as she applied the gauze bandage to his arm and taped it down, he stood up and proceeded toward the door.

“How long for the results?” he asked the nurse.

“About a week and we should have them,” the nurse said. “You’ll receive a letter with the results.”

“Sounds good. Thanks,” Rooster said, and with that, he was walking down the hall to exit the office.

He slipped into the front seat of his car and backed out of the parking spot. Once he got out onto the street he thought about calling Wheland to tell him he’d had his blood drawn, but then decided to wait until he had the results in his hand to share. He thought about what a positive result would mean for them. It was a little nerve wracking to think about this virus possibly being in his system, but if the test was positive he’d manage the virus as best as he could along with Wheland. What other choice did he have? If he had the hepatitis virus, there was a very high probability Wheland had it, too. He knew this because Wheland was the only guy he’d been with in a long time. A positive test result now would mean Wheland was the source.

Maybe if the results were negative for both of them they could celebrate. Rooster liked that idea a lot. He might even try to adjust his recording schedule to fly out and spend another couple of days
celebrating
with Wheland. His cock reacted to that option, jerking to life in his jeans. He looked forward to having a normal routine with Wheland at home, cooking dinner, and simply being together. But that dream was a long way off. Wheland needed to finish his tour and then they could settle in to having a real life, at least until the next tour started.

Rooster knew he was going to have to rethink not touring with Wheland. He just hated waking up to an empty bed and each day Wheland was gone, Rooster missed him more. There was no joy in living out of a suitcase for him, but if doing so meant being with Wheland more often he’d do it. He was damn close to going bat shit crazy living in Wheland’s enormous house all by himself. Maybe being faced with the potential seriousness of the Hep B health issue would be the final catalyst to pull them together, full time, for the long haul.

Forever.

Damn, if that could be the case!

As soon as that thought registered in his head his body tensed. Is that what he really wanted with Wheland? Shit. Did they even know each other well enough to consider something full time? The idea of learning more about Wheland over the years ahead did spike Rooster’s heart rate. He liked the idea. A lot. The wide smile on his face remained all the way back to Wheland’s estate. One day soon Rooster was going to have a very serious talk with Wheland about the future. He needed to know if they both had the same sense of permanence in mind.

Wheland palmed his phone, considering the time difference between him and Los Angeles. He was about to call Rooster when Alex sat down beside him at the table inside their tour bus.

“You got a minute?” Alex asked him.

“Of course,” Wheland said, and set his phone onto the table in front of him.

Alex toyed with a fork sitting on the tabletop. “That chick Trina will be back at tonight’s show,” Alex finally said. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Of course not,” Wheland said.

“Good to hear,” Alex said. “She’ll be popping in from time to time all through the tour to promote the charity, so if there’s gonna be a problem with that I need to know now.”

Wheland inhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He’d been meaning to talk to Alex about Trina and now seemed to be as good a time as any. “She’s my half-sister,” Wheland said. It was the first time he’d admitted that to anyone, excluding Rooster. The weight of that secretive burden lifted from his shoulders from saying that short statement and it actually felt good to say it.

“I figured it was something along those lines,” Alex said.

“How the fuck did you have that figured out?” Wheland asked.

Alex shrugged. “She looks like you.”

Wheland glanced at Alex and nodded. “We share the same... father,” Wheland said. He hated referring to that man as his father. Saying it out loud left a bad taste in his mouth. His father was nothing more than a sperm donor. Far as Wheland was concerned, he’d grown up without a father. “I’ve been told we have the same eyes,” Wheland said. “She showed up at one of our concerts a long time ago and told me
our
father had died. That’s how I found out the asshole had an entire second family, complete with a legal wife that came from money. Already having a wife explained why he never bothered to marry my mom. He used her to spawn a few illegitimate kids and that was about it. My mother was stupid enough to believe he actually loved her and kept popping out his kids. After he died, she lost her child support money because the widow wanted nothing to do with her husband’s bastard kids, so I was left to help support my brother and sister. That was a pretty big wake up call for me at nineteen.”

“Jesus, I had no idea,” Alex said, and touched Wheland’s forearm. “Are you still in touch with your brother and sister?”

Wheland shook his head. “Not really. It seems my money was good enough for them when they wanted to get in to UCLA for college, but I’ve heard nothing from them since they graduated. Not even a fucking thank you note. I stopped sending money after that. I’m done. My mom died a few years back from the booze and drugs she bought with the money I was sending home for her. I didn’t even go to her funeral. There wasn’t much of a point. My entire youth was based on a lie that she created.”

“I’m so sorry, Wheland,” Alex said.

“Don’t be. People survive far worse things than being a bastard child,” Wheland said. “I have all the family I need with you guys and Rooster.”

“That’s true,” Alex said with a faint smile. “I told you, we’re brothers by choice.”

“That we are,” Wheland said.

“So, you’ll be okay seeing Trina again?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I should probably try and make things right with her,” Wheland said. “It’s not her fault our father was an asshole.”

“Whatever you wanna to do, you know I’ll support it,” Alex said, and started to stand up from the table.

“Are we still scheduled to get our blood drawn next week?” Wheland asked.

“Far as I know,” Alex said. “I’ll let everyone know once I have a date and time.”

“Good. I’d really like to resolve that issue and get it out of my head,” Wheland said.

“Understandable,” Alex said, and walked down the aisle of the bus toward the exit.

Wheland remained seated at the table for a few more minutes, then decided he should probably head inside the venue to warm-up his fingers and voice. He couldn’t even remember which city there were performing tonight. He was pretty sure they were someplace in western Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh maybe? Did it really fucking matter?

He entered the pavilion by the back door. The first thing he noticed was Trina talking to Alex about halfway down the hall. He fought the knot of tension that wanted to take root in his stomach and walked toward them. When Trina saw Wheland approaching, she turned away from Alex and prepared to leave.

“Trina! Wait up,” Wheland called out and moved to her. She kept her back to him until he was right beside her.

“I’m not here looking for more trouble with you,” Trina said, her eyes glaring at him.

“Good, because I don’t want that, either,” Wheland said.

Trina crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze holding Wheland’s.

“Could we go somewhere and talk?” Wheland asked.

“Talk or scream?” Trina asked.

“Talk,” Wheland said. “And I’m sorry about the last time we saw each other. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. My anger is with my... father. Not you.”

“You seem to forget I was a victim in that mess, too,” Trina said.

“You were a victim, but the privileged childhood you lived was a hundred times better than what I grew up with,” Wheland.

“Probably, but that was also not my fault,” Trina said.

Wheland nodded. This wasn’t going exactly as he planned, but he really didn’t know what he expected to come out of this conversation, either. He motioned for Trina to follow him down the hall a bit, then stepped in to a small changing room and shut the door behind them. He saw Trina’s eyes dart back to the closed door. He hated the look of suspicion and fear in her. He had no intention of hurting her and he wished she understood that.

Wheland spun two chairs around and sat down in one of them. It took a full minute before Trina relented and sat across from Wheland. He took that as a small victory and tried to arrange the jumbled words in his head.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Trina asked Wheland.

“He’s back in L.A.,” Wheland said. “Does it bother you I’m gay?”

Trina shook her head. “No, not at all,” she said.

Trina’s hands twisted nervously in her lap. When she finally lifted her eyes to Wheland he saw emotion building in them. “I... we, had a younger brother,” Trina said and sniffed. “His name was Carlson. He hung himself when he was fifteen because he was gay and tired of the bullying he dealt with every day at school.”