Or Brandt. He wasn’t leaving him either, but keeping the focus on logistics was so much easier than voicing everything else in his head and heart.
“Let me worry about the plan.” Brandt touched Shane’s shoulder, his hand warm through Shane’s thin Western shirt.
“I know it’s hard to believe but I’ve grown kind of attached.” Relaxing into Brandt’s grip, he tipped his head back, willing him to understand that he wasn’t only referring to Jewel.
“I get that. She’s easy to care about.” And there they were, Brandt missing the point even as he rubbed Shane’s shoulders and gentled his tone. “And I appreciate your help. But you need to at least do the Portland show. I’ll figure something out for those days and then we can deal with LA if—when—that happens.”
We. If Shane could let himself trust in that, this decision would be so much easier. But he knew all the way down to his boots that any we would evaporate the moment he left this cozy little bubble they’d built the last few weeks.
“Yeah. It’s a big if.”
“I’ve got some savings. I can see about a nanny rather than doing daycare if that comes to pass.” Brandt certainly seemed to want to boil it down to money, schedules, and how easily replaceable Shane apparently was. Stepping free of Brandt’s hand, he paced away.
“A nanny isn’t the worst idea.” If Brandt wanted to make this all about practicality, fine. Shane wasn’t sure he had it in him to cling to something that clearly wasn’t happening.
“It’s not.” Brandt flopped onto the couch. “But you still look like I’m suggesting you perform naked in a snake pit.”
“Thanks for that visual.” Shane had to laugh, even if it hurt. “And I don’t know. I just...”
“What?” Leaning forward, Brandt made a frustrated noise. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s on your mind.”
“You want to?” Turning on his heel, he studied Brandt more carefully now. The lines around his mouth and eyes were deeper, and his eyes held none of his usual joking.
“To help? Hell, yeah.” Brandt scrubbed at his hair. Fuck. How far they’d come from the guy with the devilish grin who ran from responsibility. Shane’s initial impressions seemed downright silly now, but he still had trouble trusting this new level of concern. “You think this is only about convenient babysitting for me?”
“Maybe,” Shane admitted, because he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“Well, it’s not.” Brandt’s voice was firm, almost angry. “Perhaps at first, but we’re well beyond that now, and I think you damn well know it.”
He did. He so did. He was in so deep he no longer had any sense of direction, and knowing he wasn’t alone in these murky waters wasn’t much comfort. But Brandt caring also wasn’t nothing, and if Brandt was going to be honest then maybe he could too. He stepped closer to the couch.
“That’s just it. This isn’t simply about leaving the baby. I’m not ready to say goodbye,” he whispered.
“Then don’t.” Brandt flipped both hands palms up, like the answer was that easy.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say goodbye if you don’t want to.” Reaching for Shane, Brandt tugged him on to the couch, half on Brandt’s lap which felt both ridiculous and comforting, especially when Brandt nuzzled his neck. “I meant what I said before we started this thing that I’m not gonna try to pin you down, but I’m also not shoving you out the door either.”
“Felt like that earlier.” Maybe that was what a lot of Shane’s hurt was about, how eager Brandt had seemed about him leaving, how easily he could let go of the very thing Shane was pining for.
“Fuck it, Shane.” Brandt’s voice was angry, but his hands were still gentle as he pulled Shane closer. “This isn’t a motel. I’m not flipping the vacancy sign on simply because you go to Portland or anywhere else for a couple of days.”
“Oh.” Still hung up on the idea that this was all an opportune fling for Brandt, he hadn’t let himself dwell much on the idea of keeping this going after he left. Hadn’t occurred to him that Brandt might want to try, that this might be as real for him as it was for Shane. His heart hammered faster, all the hope he’d been trying to keep in check rushing back in.
“Yeah. Oh. I—”
Bing. The doorbell interrupted whatever Brandt had been about to say, and Shane cursed low. They were far enough out in the country that other than package delivery, the bell seldom rang.
“I’ll get it.” Chill racing up his spine, he untangled himself from Brandt. Couldn’t glance back. Couldn’t dwell on what Brandt had been about to say. Could only open the door and—
“Shelby.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brandt should have followed Shane to the door. It was technically his house, but he was trying to figure out how to get Shane to see reason about this music opportunity of his. Shane could handle the package or whatever it was while Brandt sorted out what to say next. They were dancing around some pretty big truths, and his heart was still auditioning for a drum solo, hammering out a frantic beat.