Page 33 of Rocking Cedarwood

Chapter Ten

Niall stared at the stage long after the band left. The lights had dimmed over the instruments and brightened over the crowd. He wanted to leave but couldn’t. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what he’d been told. Bandit, the musician he loved, was Michael. He’d seen Michael, heard him say the words, but nothing made sense. How could Michael be Bandit? How?

He hadn’t really talked to Michael about music. Not until they’d ridden in the car together had they discussed their favorite bands. They’d talked about school policy and lesson plans. They’d chatted about running methods, distances and managing one’s energy during races. Christ. He’d slept with Michael, but he really didn’t know him. He’d claimed he wanted to protect his emotions and heart, but he’d opened himself up. He’d brought the pain on himself.

Who was the foolish one?

“Hi.”

He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know Dexter was in the box with him. “Hi.”

“How are you holding up? Did you enjoy the concert?” Dexter eased onto the seat beside him. “I made sure there was plenty of food back there.”

“I saw and had some. Thanks. It was very nice of you and Ban—Michael.” He folded his hands on his belly and rested his feet on the seat in front of him. “I’ll have to get used to that. Michael being Bandit.”

“If it’s any consolation, he kept it very quiet. Until Leif called you, the only ones who knew about Michael’s other identity were Michael, his manager Blake, and me, then Leif because he snooped through my shit.” Dexter propped his feet on the seat in front of him. His shoes glittered when he stretched. “We kept it quiet because he wanted to keep teaching. He loves teaching as much as he loves music. He didn’t leave the music business because the band became famous. By only touring during the summer and keeping out of the public eye other than during the summer months, he’s reached cult status. It’s crazy because we never thought it would get this…big.”

Niall didn’t like what he’d heard, but he understood. Michael wanted the best of both worlds and the only way he could get it was to play different roles. Could he honestly blame Michael? Not really. Wasn’t it the American dream to be successful?

“He wanted to tell you. He did. Then Leif tore the lid off his disguise and forced his hand. He would’ve told you. Trust me. We’ve only been on tour for a week and he couldn’t wait to get back to Cleveland to see you. He talked about you all the time. Even the band knew about you.”

“They did?” Niall stared at Dexter. He shook his head. “I don’t know how to feel about this. I mean, one minute I know what’s going on. I have a boyfriend, he’s handsome and he’s just across the hallway from me at the school. Now, I find out he’s also a famous person. I can’t sort it all out.”

“Do you like him?”

“Which side of him?” Niall asked. “That’s just it. I don’t know if I really know him after all.”

“Here’s the thing. You do know him. Yeah, he’s Bandit when he’s down there on the stage, but that doesn’t mean he’s not Michael once he steps off. It’s like a writer or an actor. They are whoever they are for the book or movie, but once the movie closes or the book is written, he or she goes back to being their normal self. Michael is no different. If you loved the guy who stood in front of that classroom, then you’re in love with the real man.”

Niall sighed. Dexter might be right. People were permitted to have multiple sides. He wasn’t just a teacher—he liked working on his house and running. Maybe Michael was like him in that way. Maybe.

“Well, he’s got a couple days off until the next show. We’ll be in Pittsburg on Tuesday. Why don’t you try to talk to him and settle this?”

“So you’ve got a happy guy to go onstage?” He wasn’t about to boost Michael up if it was only for a good concert. “Is that bad?”

“If it were up to me, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself. He plays better when he’s miserable,” Dexter snapped. “But it’s not all about you, you pompous asshole. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“I never said it did.” Niall shrank into his seat. “I meant—”

“I don’t want you to sort things out because I want him happy. He’s miserable. This is when he writes the best music, but he’s also my friend. There’s something about you that got under his skin. You may not be his forever, but he wants you right now. Give him a chance and maybe you’ll find out you are meant to go the distance.”

Niall picked at the paper bracelet and stared at the backstage pass on his lanyard. Michael deserved his attention. Even if he simply went by the room to apologize, Niall needed to see his—Michael.

“Let’s go find him. If I have to navigate this place by myself, I’m going to get lost.” Niall stood. “I owe him an apology.”

Dexter half smiled. He shook his head and pointed to the door but didn’t say anything.

Niall followed Dexter down the main corridor of the building then to a nondescript door near the ticket counters. Dexter pressed the Down button at the bank of elevators. The music in the elevator car was one of the few Blackheart ballads. The words got to Niall.

Having my heart ripped out. I’m torn. I’m bleeding. You think you know me, but you can’t see. I’m a shadow. I’m not me.

Niall sagged against the wall of the elevator car. Bandit—Michael was singing about himself. Was Niall ready to forgive Michael for the lies by omission? Not yet, but he still wanted to spend time with Michael.

The bell dinged and Dexter nudged Niall out of the vehicle first. “He’s in the car. Straight down the hall. I’m heading back upstairs, so if you get cold feet, you’re fucked.” He closed the elevator doors.

Niall rubbed his arms and glanced back at the elevator once before he headed down the short corridor. He made his way up to the door. When he looked out of the window, he noticed the limo. His heart hammered. This could be the door to his future or the doorway to a nasty split. He’d never know if he didn’t talk to Michael.

Niall opened the door and strode the few steps up to the large black vehicle. He knocked on the window. His hands shook and he wiped them on his pants. Jeez. He was standing in an alley, knocking on the window to a car, and more or less alone.

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