Rockstar Rivals: First Time Gay Romance

  Rockstar Rivals

  First Time Gay Romance

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2015 Natasha Ryder

  All characters in this book are 18 and over.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to others. If you would like to share or gift this ebook , please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the author of this title and their hard work.

  Please remember to leave a review on Amazon.com!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About the Author

  More on Kindle

  Chapter One

  Gavin

  It was a dream come true to be here.

  This was everything that Gavin had worked for. Everything that he'd been away from his family and friends for, other than the members of his band, of course. Everything that he'd sacrificed for, everything that he had daydreamed about while working his minimum wage job at the car wash.

  It seemed impossible that he was here, sitting backstage, getting ready to open for his favorite band of all time. When things had gotten really bad, when he'd been driven crazy by asshole customers yelling at him, he always knew he could go someplace quiet, slip his headphones in, and listen to to the rough voice of the lead singer of Crossroads, the band that he was somehow, against all odds, playing with tonight.

  Speaking of said lead singer, the touring manager had said that they were going to be meeting him for the first time tonight. Mark Tisdale was way, completely out of his league, and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from having a ridiculous little crush on the man.

  It was strange that they hadn't met already. Gavin and his band had met everyone else in Crossroads, except for Mark. Gavin shrugged it off, but it did seem a bit strange. He was probably just busy, though.

  Gavin nervously picked up his guitar and started to play it. He'd played in front of big crowds on the reality TV show that had gotten him here, gotten his little Southern band discovered, but nothing like what he was going to face tonight.

  As always, the music calmed him. He picked out the chords for the most recent Crossroads single, and it helped. It would all be okay. Again, this was literally a dream come true, he couldn't let anxiety ruin it.

  And it was working, too. He was relaxing, at least until the door suddenly slammed open and all 6'2 of muscular, blond Mark Tisdale walked into the room. No, he didn't walk. He stormed in, with more drama in every movement than Gavin had expected.

  Everyone looked up, but then, Gavin was sure that was pretty much par for the course. What he wasn't sure about was if Mark usually wore that look of distaste when he looked at new people, the look he was giving Gavin.

  Gavin's band, Mark's band, various roadies and stage managers and lighting guys and all the other people required to make a memorable concert, they were all staring at Mark, confused by the hostility in his handsome, rugged face.

  The blond man ignored everyone. Everyone except Gavin, that was. Flinging his golden curls back over his shoulder, Mark stalked over, his leanly-muscled body looking oddly predatory. Like Gavin was his prey, and maybe not in a good, sexy way.

  Nervously, Gavin's fingers had continued to pluck out the chords to the new Crossroads song, even as Mark stalked over to him. For some reason, Mark glared at his fingers, at the way they caressed the strings of the guitar.

  “Don't play my shit,” he growled. Gavin shivered. He couldn't even help it. That voice. So rough, so masculine, so very intense. The strange thing was, Gavin had heard that Mark was supposed to be a fairly calm, laid back kind of guy when he wasn't on stage. That wasn't what he was seeing.

  Instantly, he stopped. Looking into those gray eyes, he realized that he'd been wrong. It wasn't distaste he saw in them. It was hatred, pure and simple. He didn't know why, and he was pretty sure he'd never been hated in his life before, but Mark Tisdale, his idol, hated him.

  Setting the guitar down, he looked up at the huge man in front of him. Gavin at 5'9 was not a tall man, but he wasn't really used to other men towering over him quite as much as Mark did. He stood up, and it wasn't just the fact that he'd been sitting. Mark was tall and broad and muscular and golden, and Gavin was small and slender and dark, with shaggy brown hair just long enough to fall into his eyes.

  “I … Sorry?” Gavin stammered the words, sort of hating how uncertain he sounded. Apparently Mark wasn't too impressed with it, either. He rolled his eyes, then turned away.

  “You're some sort of big shot, aren't you? Why don't you just sing your own damn stuff?”

  Gavin gulped air, trying to get some sort of control back into this situation. When he'd dreamed about meeting Mark, it definitely hadn't gone this way.

  “I'm guessing you know who I am.” As always, when he was nervous, or just when he wasn't thinking about it, his Southern accent got thicker, and that seemed to irritate Mark more. Or maybe it was his comment.

  “Of course I do. Gavin Cross.” He said his name with a sneer. “Like anyone believes that's your real name. You're the front man of Star Crossed, some kid from the South with a good look and a decent voice who thinks you're a big fucking deal because you won some reality TV show.”

  Gavin winced. Most of that was a little harsh, but basically true, but on one point, Mark was just plain wrong. Without thinking, Gavin reached out and grabbed Mark's wrist.

  “It's my real name.”

  Mark snorted, but Gavin persisted.

  “It is. Want to see my damn driver's license?”

  Mark looked down at Gavin's hand like it was some sort of slimy, disgusting worm, and a dangerous one, at that. Flushing a little, Gavin dropped Mark's wrist. Oh man, if the older man hadn't hated him before, he was going to now!

  “I'm surprised you're old enough to drive, kid,” Mark growled. Hatred or not, that voice sent a shiver of intense attraction down Gavin's spine. It wasn't fair how completely gorgeous Mark was, how sexy he was without even seeming to try.

  Then Mark turned away, like Gavin was completely beneath his notice. Which was probably the case, actually. He moved over to where the rest of Crossroads were and started to chat to them, leaving Gavin alone and humiliated.

  Quietly, he got up and left the room. He had a concert to play in just half an hour, and he had to get himself into a better mood or he'd stink the joint up.

  * * *

  As always, once he was on the stage, under the bright lights, with cheering fans in the crowd, their faces all blurring together, nothing else mattered.

  Mark had made some snarky comments about Gavin being too young, but honestly, this wasn't his first time playing to a crowd. The whole time he'd been on Next American Superstar, the reality TV show that had changed his life, he had been playing to a crowd. Then his band had signed with a label, and he'd been doing concerts since then, promoting his first album.

  Still, there could be no doubt that he'd never done anything as big as this before.

  Mark was out there first to introduce Gavin, and Gavin stared from backstage. The man was absolutely magnetic. He held the crowd i
n the palm of his hand, flirting, laughing, that sexy, deep, growly voice controlling the entire room.

  “Now, it's my great pleasure to introduce Gavin Cross and Star Crossed!”

  Gavin was so busy staring at the gorgeous blond that he almost missed his queue. Alan, his drummer, smirked at him and poked him in the ribs with his drumsticks.

  “C'mon, man,” he urged, and Gavin gave him a surprised look. Thanks to him, though, he was only a few seconds delayed, and he came out on stage, joining Mark right in the middle, where the lights were brightest.

  “Thanks for having me, Mark. I'm a huge fan, and you're the reason I'm here today,” Gavin said, holding his own microphone. It was true, and it was what he'd wanted to say when he'd met him, but it had gotten all out of hand.

  To Gavin's surprise, Mark draped his arm around Gavin's shoulder, hugging him tight against him. At first, he was shocked, but then he realized it was all for show. Well, he should probably be glad that Mark was professional enough to do his job, at least. He wouldn't have to deal with the humiliation of being hated on in front of the whole damn world.

  For that few seconds, when Gavin was pressed close to Mark, when he felt the warm weight of his arm around his shoulders, it felt like there could be something there. Gavin even forgot himself enough to look at him and smile, but there was no answering smile from the older man.

  Mark pulled away, and then walked offstage. He would be playing later, but Gavin and Star Crossed were opening for him.

  He watched as Mark left, but the other man never looked back. Well, Gavin could be professional, too, and he shot the crowd a huge grin.

  “Mark Tisdale, everyone,” he said, listening to their cheers. The man could clearly be charming, he'd gotten the crowd worked up already.

  With that, he went into the opening chords of his first big single. And from that moment, nothing else mattered. Let Mark be a jerk. Let him hate him. This was what he was meant to do, and there was nothing in the world that would stop him from doing it.

  Gavin sung his heart out, clearly having an amazing time, and the crowd responded. He felt each and every cheer deep inside him, he drank it up, and it was amazing to him that these people could sing along when he invited them to, that they knew all the words.

  He was high on life, high on the energy he was getting from the crowd, but that high wavered a little when he realized what song was next. There hadn't been time to change it, though after seeing how Mark had responded earlier today, he would have if he had been able to.

  The song was Don't Give Up and it was the song that Gavin had sung to win the competition that had launched his career. It just so happened to be a Crossroads song, and he was afraid he knew all too well how Mark would feel about him singing it.

  But there was really no choice. So he sang the song, and as he did, he felt like he could actually feel a pair of smoky gray eyes smoldering at him from backstage, where Mark doubtless waited for his turn.

  The whole thing brought his mood down, and he was glad that was the last song of his set. He managed to grin at the crowd, gazing out at them. He couldn't see individual faces. He could barely see anyone, with the bright lights in his eyes, but he acted like he could.

  “Well, how about the real thing? Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Mark Tisdale and Crossroads!” The crowd roared its delight.

  He and Mark crossed each other when they were trading places. Mark was grinning, and so was Gavin, but it was all horribly forced and fake.

  The two men shook hands, and the crowd loved it. They ate it up. Meanwhile, Gavin just wanted to get out of there, and he quickly made his escape, letting Crossroads take the concert over.

  He should have left then. He had nothing to do for the rest of the show, his part was done. But his band were all huge fans, too, and this was a pretty huge deal for them, to get to watch a band they loved so much play.

  So he watched as Mark flirted and charmed everyone in sight. Including Gavin, he had to admit. When the show was over, all he wanted was to go to his own hotel room and go to bed.

  He didn't know it then, but that just wasn't going to be happening.

  Chapter Two

  Mark

  Stupid charming perfect pretty little Southern rock star.

  It made Mark sick, it really did. And now he was expected to tour with the brat? He was expected to make nice with him, when the whole time, he knew that Gavin was just there to take the spotlight, to steal Mark's thunder?

  Even to him, it sounded a little bit ridiculous when he actually thought about it. But the fact was, Gavin Cross had been a thorn in Mark's side for a long time now. There were only so many times that a man could be compared to another and come up lacking each and every single time before he lost it a little.

  That was exactly what had happened with Mark. At first, he'd been flattered to hear about the gorgeous young Southern boy with the earnest eyes and the sexy, tight body that had been singing Crossroads songs as he progressed through the rounds of the reality show that had catapulted him into stardom.

  He could still remember the first time he heard it.

  “Wonderful!” the judge had said, with his pretentious British accent, “Far better than that Mark Tisdale, certainly. You can actually sing, unlike him!”

  Once, he could laugh off. He knew his low, growling voice wasn't everyone's thing. But it wasn't just once, it was over and over, until it seemed like everyone in the world seemed to agree. Gavin Cross was the next Mark Tisdale, only better. Far, far better.

  Even then, he'd kept things in perspective. It wasn't like he had to be around the young man, right? He could deal with it by ignoring it, like he ignored all the haters who liked to tear people down because they couldn't do what whoever they were hating could.

  Oh, how wrong he was.

  His agent had been so happy when he'd told Mark the news. Crossroads was going to go on a tour with Star Crossed. The band names even sounded good together, didn't they? It would be great publicity for both bands, and Mark would get to look like someone who liked to foster young talent.

  It was then that he'd sort of lost it, that his hatred for Gavin, without him ever having met the little brat, grew out of control. So that his normal easygoing nature was perverted, changed, and his jealousy took over.

  He would just have to ignore the other man. That was all there was to it. And it was working out just fine, he'd been avoiding him nicely, until he walked in and heard the brat playing one of his songs.

  It sounded good, too. That was maybe the worst part. Gavin had stripped it down to just a basic guitar sound and his voice, which was smooth, like melted caramel. It sounded pretty and simple and emotional, and hearing it, Mark felt like he'd done it wrong in the first place.

  It was strange. It was unsettling. He wasn't used to questioning himself. He was damn good at what he did, and he knew it. Then this boy walked in, looking barely old enough to vote, and everything was thrown into question.

  The way he'd spoken to Gavin had been him trying to be polite. To be professional, despite how he felt. But the look that he'd been given, he'd felt like he had kicked a puppy, or something. Those big, melting dark eyes looked at him reproachfully, like he was supposed to just give up his spot at the top to this upstart. Like he should welcome Gavin to take everything that was Mark's, and then do it better than he did.

  Apparently that was exactly what he was supposed to. After Gavin left to go pout somewhere, Mark's own band mates tore into him. He was supposed to be encouraging young talent, not destroying it. He was being mean for no reason. Blah blah blah, on and on, until Mark wanted to scream.

  In the end, though, he'd promised to be nicer. Honestly, he even knew that they were right. Gavin hadn't actually done anything to him. Not directly. He could still see the hurt look in those big brown eyes, too, and that made him uncomfortable.

  He'd tried, too. He'd been friendly with him onstage, he'd done his job. The surprise he'd seen in Gavin's eyes th
en annoyed him even more, though he knew it was irrational. Why did his opinion seem to matter so much to the brat, anyway?

  Then, he watched. He watched as Gavin strolled around the stage like he owned it, filled with animalistic grace, shaggy brown hair falling into those big, dark eyes, which he used to seemingly make love to every person in the room.

  Mark had seen a lot. He'd seen a lot of one hit wonders come and go, and he flattered himself that he knew when someone had something. Gavin, much to his annoyance, did. It wasn't just the voice, like smooth, hot liquid honey, caressing every syllable that he sang. Or his perfect little body, small and compact, tight and toned. Against his own will, Mark found himself wondering what the man would look like naked.

  It was the whole package with him. He had it all. Mark watched as Gavin held the crowd effortlessly, and growled softly. That really didn't make him like the young man better.

  Just then, to make things that much better, Gavin started to sing a Crossroads song. The same Crossroads song that Mark had watched him win the competition with. The one that everyone in the world, apparently, had said that Gavin did far better than Mark.

  Complicated things happened inside of Mark. Lust surged, and so, at the same time, did his hatred. What would it be like to hold this young man down? To kiss him until he submitted? Or was he a good little Southern boy who would never even consider being a with a man?

  His drummer, Drake, who was waiting to go on, just like Mark was, smirked and nudged him with his shoulder. Mark looked over to see what he wanted, only to be further annoyed by the smirk he was getting.

  “Someone's got a crush,” Drake teased. It was part of being in a band. These guys were like his brothers. They teased each other, but Mark was most definitely not in the mood.

  “No fucking way,” he growled, and Drake's grin faded. He gave him a more stern look.

  “Remember, man, the kid didn't do anything to you. Stop being such a jackass.”

  Oh, good. Everyone was on Gavin's side, even Mark's own band. Poor, innocent little Gavin, being picked on by big mean Mark. Clearly, that's how people saw it.