...The lights were dim backstage, save for a couple of security lamps high on the hallway wall. Everyone had gone home—the crew and the suits and the hangers-on, and most of the band. Seth stumbled into the cavernous central dressing room and fell, missing the couch by a few inches.

“Bugger,” he grumbled, slapping an arm on the couch and trying to pull himself upright. The vague shapes swam and stretched, making him dizzy.

“Watch it, mate.” A warm, long-fingered hand shoved his away and a body rolled onto its side. “Unless you want to get serious about what you’re toying with.”

“Juli.” The name came out a sob. Seth tried to pull himself together. “She’s gone, Juli. What will I do without her?”

“Who?”

“God, you know who.” Seth managed to crawl onto the couch. Julian shifted his legs to make room. Seth dropped his face onto his hands and leaned sideways until he rested on his best friend’s shoulder. “Cassie. My wife. I can’t—” He drew a deep, shuddering breath and licked the tickle in the corner of his mouth. It tasted salty. Was he crying? Of course he was. His wife had left him, the band was falling apart, their last CD was officially crap—his life was over.

Julian slowly rubbed his back and sounded more awake when he spoke this time. “I know, mate. I’m sorry.” His hand came up to grip the back of Seth’s neck. Seth turned into Julian’s chest, craving the heat he gave off, needing something—something he didn’t want to think about, just wanted to take. Or receive.

“I’m alone,” he moaned. “Fucking alone. And Pete’s blathering on about rehab again.”

“You should go,” Julian said, his hand tightening on Seth’s neck. Anger surged through Seth, but instead of lashing out, he crowded closer.

“I don’t need rehab, Juli.” The words glided through his brain before they came out of his mouth, and his prick stiffened. “I need a fuck.”

“You sure?” His friend’s voice was more serious than Seth could remember hearing it, and the low rumble vibrated in his chest and made him even harder. The tight leather he still wore, his stage costume, put pressure on his dick. He started panting.

“I’m sure. Do it. I need it.”