A Dangerous Kind of Love [WINNER - #RomanceMusicFestival contest]

1

Chase Timmons stood off to one side and some distance from the other patrons in the beer tent. He was damp with sweat and filled with a kind of surreal disbelief. To have given up his front row spot in the grandstand for headliners A Perfect Circle—and in favor of piped-in country music at that—was nothing short of insane. 

But being up front for opening band Mercy Kill had been well worth the festival admission fee.  Especially getting to see lead singer and guitarist Derek Young up close and in the flesh. The way Derek practically made love to his guitar and sang with such raw, unabashed sexuality—it was the hottest thing Chase had ever seen.

And then, near the end of Mercy Kill's set, it happened.  

Derek's eyes swept over the front of his audience, came to rest on Chase, and there they stopped. At least it felt that way to Chase. But the ladies around him apparently thought they'd been the recipients of that prolonged, heated gaze. Screaming ecstatically, they'd reached grasping hands out to Derek at the edge of the stage, his obsidian eyes still fixed front row center as he snarled through a salacious line of lyrics.

But then Derek leaped from the stage, and any doubt about who'd captured his attention vanished. Graceful and sleek as a panther he approached, eyes still honed in on Chase. He appeared completely unfazed by the fans reaching for him, clawing at his black t-shirt, even trying for handfuls of his long jet hair before security pushed them back. 

Derek held his mic high overhead and leaned across the barricade separating them. His beautiful hair caught the breeze and wafted silkily across Chase's neck and face. His masculine scent—clean sweat with the hint of an exotic, spicy cologne—filled Chase's mind and weakened his knees. 

Derek's lips almost touched Chase's ear as he spoke, a bit breathlessly and just loud enough for Chase to hear him. "Wanna meet in the beer tent after our set?"

Stunned speechless, Chase could only nod. Then Derek stepped back, flashed his mega-watt grin, and he retook the stage.

***

Chase ordered another beer and tried to calm himself down. But God, he'd felt something awaken deep inside him back there, something he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge in so long that he'd forgotten its impact. The beer cup trembled in his hand.

Derek Young...into dudes? Into him?  

Chase sipped his beer and wondered if Derek would really show up—and if he really wanted him to. He contemplated making a quick escape, admitting to himself that he was totally scared shitless. 

And then a voice spoke behind him. Deep, slightly raspy, and instantly recognizable. "Hello."

Chase started. He spun around quickly, nearly spilling his beer.

Dark shades covered Derek's eyes. His hair was damp, tied back and threaded through the back of his black baseball cap. He'd obviously cleaned up, changing from his stage attire of black leather pants and shirt to a white tee and a pair of faded jeans with a frayed hole in one knee. The cologne scent was stronger now than it was earlier.

My God. He's perfection.  

Derek's grin widened and Chase flushed, realizing he was openly gawking at the man. "Hey," he managed, desperately trying to swallow his nerves. 

Derek put out his hand. "Derek Young."

Chase could feel Derek's penetrating gaze despite the shades. "Chase Timmons." He shook the offered hand, noting the rough calluses grazing his skin.

"Good to meet you, Chase. Enjoy the show?" 

 "This was my first time seeing you guys in concert, and you killed it," Chase enthused. Jesus, he sounded like a giddy teenage fanboy.