A red tainted Silence Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’d never see him again, not after seeing Adam’s disgust.
    “Sorry about that. But you do need to get ice on it. Think you can stand up?” I nodded. This time, I didn’t freak so bad as his arm wrapped around my shoulders, then slid to my waist. He was shorter than me, but he was strong and held me up easily. My head began to spin and I closed my eyes and leaned into him -- I couldn’t help it, honest.
    Then the nausea really kicked in.
    “Are you going to faint again?” he asked, concern in his voice.
    “I ... I don’t think ... I don’t know. I must be getting sick,” I said, embarrassed now by my weakness. I’d fainted. Fuck. One of the other guys grabbed a chair, and I sat heavily in it, my hand still cradled to my chest. Adam reappeared with a couple of bags of ice, glaring at Nicholas again.
    “Here,” he said, tossing the bags at me.
    Nicholas grabbed them out of the air and then placed one in my unhurt hand, his fingers grazing mine. The other bag he held up to my head and cocked one eyebrow, seeking permission. I swallowed hard and said, “Thanks.” I couldn’t look him in the eye.
    “No problem.” He stood close to me then, close enough where I could smell leather and the faint hint of soap, that smell that was uniquely male and Nicholas. He gently placed one hand on my shoulder, the ice bag to the back of my head. I hissed, and he squeezed my shoulder, removing the ice. “Want me to stop?”
    I tried to shake my head, but that hurt too much. “No,” I whispered, closing my eyes again as he shifted against me, his thigh brushing my arm. My eyes shot open as I felt his body’s warmth through the leather, and I began to shake. Please let him think it’s the ice, or from hitting my head. Please, please, please ...
    He moved against me again. Was he oblivious to what he was doing to me? Or did he know?
    I panicked, looking around to find Adam staring at me, an annoyed look on his face. I saw his gaze flicker in distaste at what Nicholas wore, a red t-shirt and black leather jacket 18 Carolyn Gray
    and pants. Adam thought leather was “gay,” not the image he envisioned for Ashwood. I hadn’t dared point out how many of his favorite, quite straight rockstars wore leather. He scowled at Nicholas, turning to the others. “Come on, then. We’ll just have to do this without you, Brandon. Who was next?”
    Nicholas moved away from me a little and the auditions continued. I sat in the chair with my leaky bag of ice, my head pounding and my heart pounding, and one by one the singers sang. I don’t remember a single face that stood behind that microphone, a single voice on that stage, even with the lights full on. Our makeshift studio was in the back of one of the bars where we played regularly. The acoustics were horrible and the floors hadn’t been cleaned in years, but it was cheap, and we could come and go as we pleased.
    After a few minutes, Nicholas placed my hand on the ice on my head, smiled reassuringly at me, then walked over to take the last place in line. When the ice started to drip down my shirt, I gave up and dropped it to the floor, then forced myself to pay attention to the singers.
    Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Nicholas leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, and watched. And I watched him. He’d changed some in the two years since I’d seen him last. His face was almost ethereally pale, which made his blue eyes stand out all the more, and he was maybe a bit overweight, but not overly so. He just looked as if he’d been stuck inside a lot, didn’t have time to take care of himself.
    To me, he was beautiful.
    He nodded in time to the music, visibly wincing when the others failed to hit their notes. From time to time he’d glance my way and catch me looking at him, and smile shyly back at me before dipping his head and blushing, fixing his gaze back on the person singing.
    My heart soared. What did he see when he looked at me? What did he think of