Code Blue (The Sierra View Series Book 3) Page 3

  “Crow,” he said, shaking a hand that felt exactly right in his.

  4 Ethan Winter

  Ethan shook Crow’s hand and felt his world tilt off its axis. He never wanted to let go. When their hands parted, Ethan felt a burning imprint of Crow’s fingers around his. Then a stab of guilt.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  He drank his whiskey, feeling the pressure of the growing crowd around them. It seemed like everyone was eyeing Ethan, wondering what made him so special, why the main attraction was seemingly interested in him. He could feel the eyes, the jealousy. It was weird. That, mixed with the ball of guilt growing in his gut, and he was ready to leave. This wasn’t him. This life left him a long time ago, snuffed out in the blink of an eye. He wasn’t the type to flirt with guys in a bar—much less flirt with a guy like Crow.

  And then he looked up from the bar and found Crow’s light brown eyes and everything he had been worried about disappeared. He saw something there, and it wasn’t the reflection of the amber lanterns that hung above them.

  “I have a reserved table over there, let’s go,” Crow said, smiling with his drink in his hand. He nodded to the corner of the bar, the farthest, by the stage.

  The booth with the palm tree.

  “I should be heading home.” The words burned on the way out.

  “Come on,” Crow said, batting heavy eyelashes in a puppy dog look that would have stopped a world war in its tracks. “Give me fifteen minutes. That’s all. Then, if I don’t like whiskey, you can leave.”

  “And if you do end up liking it?”

  Crow’s lips curled mischievously as he turned and started through the crowd. Ethan shook his head, feeling the anxiety in his chest start dissipating, being replaced by a warm rush. He got up from his seat and followed Crow through the crowd. Crow had his head down, clearly on a mission to get somewhere, so no one seemed to bother him, although Ethan noticed a sea of shocked expressions left behind in Crow’s wake.

  It seemed like everyone agreed: Crow looked even better up close and in person.

  They made it to the table with only a few stealth selfies being shot on the way there. The reserved table had been roped off a few feet away with a thick red velvet rope, giving the two men some much needed breathing room. Crow slid into the booth first. Ethan slid in across from him, the soft black leather cushion shaping to his body.

  Just don’t look at it. No need.

  Instead of looking to the corner of the table, he kept his eyes locked on Crow’s. He was finding them to be a sort of antidote to the conflicting feelings sparring inside him. One side of him wanted to be there, getting to know the man who had sparked something in the very air that separated them. Then, there was the other side, the one that said this was wrong. He wasn’t meant to be this happy over someone he had met minutes ago. He shouldn’t be as entranced as he was, especially not sitting in the same booth that had changed his life all those years ago.

  “So,” Crow said, and looking over the alcohol menu. “What do you recommend first, professor?”

  Ethan leaned over the table, looking at the menu which Crow tilted his way. He caught a whiff of Crow’s oaky cologne in the air, mixed with a sensual scent of Crow underneath. He managed to push past that distraction and pointed out a few samplers they could try. With the order placed, Ethan sat back, doing his best to avoid the damn palm tree.

  “Is it like this for you every night?” Ethan nodded toward the crowd of fans doing a terrible job of taking subtle pictures. Or, maybe they weren’t even trying to be subtle.

  “Not really, actually. Tonight’s a little different. I’m kicking off my first national tour so everyone’s here to see me, but normally, things are way more low-key. My old boss, Red Miller, he gets mobbed everywhere he goes so this doesn’t even seem that crazy.”

  “You used to work for someone?” Ethan found that hard to believe. Crow looked like the kind of guy who had it made from day one.

  Crow chuckled. “Yeah, of course. I got lucky in that we basically became best friends after a while, so it didn’t feel too much like a job, but I was his personal assistant until a few months ago. That’s when my music sort of took off.”

  Ethan couldn’t hold back his smile, matching the one Crow took on when he spoke about music. It was clear he was passionate about his career, and that was something that Ethan found incredibly attractive. He thought passion was something to be admired, coveted.

  “How about you?” Crow asked, putting his hands on the scratched up wooden table. “You work for anyone?”

  “I’m a doctor,” Ethan answered. “A family physician over at Sierra View.”

  Crow’s eyebrows shot up. “Doctor? Wow, sorry, I was expecting you to say a detective or something.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know, you just seem… kind of like a badass. Like I could picture you figuring out national scandals, not delivering diagnosis results.”

  “I have great bedside manner, I’ll have you know.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

  There it was. The flirty line that served as chum in shark infested waters. Crow was trying to draw Ethan in, and fuck, it was working.

  “Not that I have absolutely anything against it,” Crow said, “obviously, you said doctor and my basement fucking flooded.”

  Ethan snorted at that. It caught him completely off guard.

  “That’s amazing, though, really,” Crow continued. “My twin is actually in medical school now, over at UCLA. I think he wants to do his residency at Sierra View.”

  Ethan smiled at that. “He’ll be in good hands there.”

  The bartender showed up, placing the first tray of whiskey samples on the center of the table. This drew Ethan’s eye to the corner. The palm tree.

  Ethan felt himself tense. He momentarily zoned out, going back to this place, all those years ago. The day he etched that palm tree on the corner of the table, across from the man who he had fallen so desperately hard for.

  “Ok, which one first?”

  Crow’s voice snapped Ethan out of it. He wasn’t here to reminisce and get lost in the past. As much of a stab as it was, he needed to move on and this was part of it. He would try to enjoy the next fifteen minutes and then go home, content with the twist the night had taken. He’d wake up and go on living his life as though nothing had changed.

  An hour and a half of whiskey sampling passed by. It was also an hour and a half of incredible conversation and seriously delectable eye candy. Ethan caught himself, on multiple occasions, staring at Crow’s lips as he tried each of the whiskeys. They had ordered a few different tasting flights, all coming out on fancy oak paddles, the thick whiskey glasses set in a row across the center, so Crow had plenty to choose from. Ethan enjoyed watching his expressions turn from ‘what the fuck is this shit,’ to ‘eh it’s alright’ to ‘oh ok, I think get it’. That happened toward the end, when they had reached the more expensive and lighter bodied whiskeys.

  “You’ve got some expensive taste,” Ethan joked as the waiter took away the last paddle. Time had completely slipped by them. Ethan glanced down at his Apple watch and saw that there were only ten minutes left until closing. Sure enough, the music cut out and the DJ announced last call.

  “I think you did it. I think you taught me how to like whiskey. There’s something about appreciating the ‘notes’… fuck, that sounds pretentious.”

  Ethan laughed, matching Crow’s. He wasn’t completely at ease, but he was definitely without many walls, and the laughs only served to knock down a few more barriers. “Not at all. It’s the right terminology.” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Now, if you start wearing a top hat and raising your pinky, I may start to worry.”

  “Are you saying I can’t pull off a top hat?”

  You can pull off anything.

  “Potentially,” Ethan said with a shrug.

  Crow shook his head, feigning offense. “So, I never ended up telling you what happens if I win my s
ide of the bet.” The lights came on.

  Ethan swallowed down the last of his whiskey. He was feeling drunker than he had been in a while, and that had his emotions in a whirlwind. There was a definite Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going on inside. He knew exactly where this was headed and he wanted it, but then Jekyll would tear through, making him realize that this was all a big farce. Crow was going to be an empty one-night stand and that was it. He would feel even emptier after, realizing that he would never find what he once had. That realization would hit like a train wreck, potentially pushing Ethan into a hole he wouldn’t be able to dig himself out of.

  “I’m sorry,” Ethan said. He had to cut this off now. Things couldn’t progress any further. “I have to go. You’re an incredible singer, your tour is going to be incredible.”

  Ethan got up, his knees wobblier than he thought. He pulled his phone out, ready to order his ride home. That was when he felt two hands close around his wrists. Strong hands. Warm. He looked up from his phone. Crow was smiling. Those pearly white teeth were framed by a grin that warmed everything in Ethan’s body, from his toes to his cock to his head. Everything was flooded with a warmth he couldn’t explain.

  And then came a kiss that blew that warmth up into a raging inferno. The entire bar melted away, the earth crumbling underneath their heat. A kiss so passionate, Ethan moaned seconds into it. He hadn’t lost himself like that in years. To the point of being unable to control the sounds coming out of his own throat. Another moan. Crow’s hands came up to tangle in Ethan’s head, Ethan putting his phone on the table and then grabbing Crow’s hips. Sparks —nah, fuck that, lightning strikes —were flying between and around them. Ethan was sure they had destroyed the entire world with the force of their kiss.

  And then it was over. They separated, the moment loaded, their silence saying more than the chatter of the emptying bar around them.

  “I…”

  Want to go home with you. I want to talk to you all night, fuck you all day, and sleep next to you for the rest of the time. Wake up and do it again. I want to know you inside and out. You intrigue me on a level I haven’t felt since I lost him. I want you, Crow Kensworth. I fucking want you.

  “…should go. I have to be at the hospital early, tomorrow.”

  “Right, right.” Crow looked disappointed. Ethan couldn’t keep looking into his eyes. He felt himself breaking apart like a cocoon. He pulled out his phone again and ordered his cab.

  He went to sleep that night. He never remembered his dreams when he woke up, but he did remember one thing about that night.

  Ethan remembered Crow’s voice, his song flowing through his dream like an ethereal thread.

  5 Crow Kensworth

  Crow’s head was throbbing. All that whiskey did not sit well with him overnight. He felt dehydrated and shaky, which was exxaactly how he wanted to feel on his first day on the road for the tour.

  “Please tell me there’s Advil on this bus,” he groaned to Angela as he climbed up the steps and entered his tour bus. It was a pretty decked out bus, he could tell from the second he walked in. It had a nice living area at the front, with comfy looking tan leather couches and mahogany accents throughout. There was a big flat-screen TV up on the wall along with a table on the opposite side, where they could get together and play drinking games (not that Crow ever wanted to drink again)… (but, let’s be real) or write new songs.

  “Funny you bring that up,” Angela said as she climbed up onto the bus behind him. She was looking over a clipboard, checking things off. She couldn’t look more like a producer, in her dark fitted jeans, black leather kitten heels, and a casual black suit jacket that meant business. He was so grateful he had Angela around, because Crow was a mess with everything else that didn’t have to do with music. He could barely produce his own breakfast, much less an entire national tour.

  “What?”

  “Well, I have two pieces of bad news and one good. Which do you wanna hear first?”

  Crow slumped down onto the couch. He laid down across it, his arm covering his eyes from the blazingly bright sun breaking through the closed blinds. “Let’s go with the bad.”

  “Ok. One or two?”

  “Two.”

  “Good choice.” Angela sat down at the table, still looking over her notes. “We can’t leave on your tour today.”

  “What?” Crow shot up on the couch. The move made his head feel like it was injected with acid jello.

  “Relax, relax. We’re only delayed by a day at the latest, and it won’t affect the dates at all. We planned some buffer time for exactly this.”

  “Why?”

  “Doctor Cherry’s wife just had her baby. There were some complications, though, and she wants to stay here to be with them.”

  Crow exhaled. “Fuck, is everything ok with the baby?”

  “Yeah, last I heard everything was fine, she just wants to stay and be with her wife and newborn. Which means we’re out a doctor, and with Troy’s medical issue, we shouldn’t leave without one. Just in case.”

  Crow sighed. “Right, of course.” He let his worries go with a deep exhale. Or at least tried to. It was hard when he was feeling like shit and getting shit news all at the same time. All on top of the fact that he had to go home alone last night. He honestly didn’t even care if he had gone home with Ethan and they never hooked up, all he wanted was that extra time with him. There was something about the man that was completely enrapturing. A way he only remembered feeling through reading fairytales.

  “But don’t worry, I think I found someone.”

  For a split second, Crow imagined Ethan being the doctor Angela found. That single thread of thought opened up an entire can of worms, flooding his brain with images of the two on tour together. Getting to know each other more, traveling across the country and experiencing all these different things together.

  “She’s one of Cherry’s close friends, so we’ll all be in good hands.”

  She.

  Crow felt his moment of fantasy deflate like a popped balloon. He closed his eyes and rested his hand against the wall behind him. “What’s the other bad news, no no, actually give me the good news next. I need to cleanse my pallet.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, go for it.”

  “You crossed a million subscribers on YouTube this morning,” Angela said, excitement clear in her voice. Crow sat up straighter, the excitement pushing aside the hangover. That was a huge milestone, even though to some it may have just seemed like numbers. To Crow, it was so much more. It meant that all these people, an amount of people Crow had a hard time even comprehending, supported him and what he did.

  “Yes, queen!” It was Jordan. He burst in through the entrance of the tour bus with an exuberance that immediately filled the room and sent a quake through Crow’s head. He wasn’t ready for that onslaught of energy. “You did it! We have to celebrate. Here, let’s do champagne.” Jordan waltzed past Angela and Crow and stopped right in front of the small bar back toward the bedrooms.

  “I can’t do alcohol right now,” Crow groaned.

  “Oh, honey, you’re going to do champagne.” Jordan found what he was looking for, squealing in excitement. He waved a golden bottle of champagne in the air, pointing it toward the opposite end of the room. A loud pop followed by a fizz. The sound made Crow’s stomach curl.

  Then, another sound. Five rapid knocks on the bus door. Frantic giggles filtered in through the opened window.

  Angela scrunched her brows together. She said something under her breath, sounding very much to Crow like ‘fuckin’ groupies’, as she got up and walked to the door. She pushed it open, revealing a gang of six teenage girls, all bubbly and jumpy, each wearing their own handmade ‘Crow Kensworth’ t-shirts. Crow could see a few from where he sat, but they hadn’t spotted him yet.

  “Hi!” one of the girls said, the braver one of the group. He saw Angela bristle.

  “How did you girls get past security?”

 
Jordan piped in from the back as he poured the champagne. “Security?” He scoffed. “Girl, all that’s outside is an angry raccoon and a nicer parking attendant.”

  Angela huffed in frustration. “I’m sorry but Crow is feeling sick, he can’t do any meet an—“ She was cut off by a loud shriek from the girl in the back. She spotted Crow first as he walked up behind Angela, a big smile on his face. How could he not give his fans at least a few minutes of conversation? They were clearly persistent enough to spot his tour bus from the street and pull into the parking lot (which Angela apparently thought was guarded to the effect of Fort Knox). The note with the flower did pop into his mind momentarily, but he couldn’t see how these teenage girls would pose any kind of threat. They were all just genuinely excited for a chance to meet him.

  “Hi, everyone!” Crow said, mustering up as much energy as he could.

  The girls flipped. The screaming felt like ice cold darts getting thrown at his skull, but he powered through. He was wearing a white hoodie and gray sweatpants, so he clearly wasn’t looking anything spectacular, but he still posed for photos with each and every one of them. After he was through, he thanked them all for taking time to visit him.

  “Are you kidding?” said the one with the dark hair and the light purple streaks. Her name was Tina if Crow remembered correctly. “I’ve been, like, straight up stalking twitter all day, looking through your hashtag legit twenty-four seven.” She pushed a strand of jet black hair off her eyes. They bore into Crow, seeing him as something more than just the man Crow felt himself to be. He would never get used to that. He remembered asking Red one day if it ever stopped feeling weird to be looked at like some exotically rare animal spotted out in the wild. He answered with a shake of his head.

  “The tour schedule is up there too, although I’m sure you already knew that.” Crow ended it with a light laugh, his head still plagued with dull throbs.

  “Hell yeah! We’re going to try to make it to each stop!” It was another girl in the group that answered, her bright blonde hair drawing Crow’s eyes like a lighthouse, an even brighter pink streak going down the side of her hair. “Total groupies,” she admitted, causing the group to break down into a fit of giggles.