Extraordinary Things - Beth Bolden

CHAPTER ONE

“I'm worried about Felix,” Leo said as he leaned against the bathroom counter. He had partially undressed from the smart, tailored suit he'd worn to the Grammys ceremony, the stark black lines of his jacket long discarded, leaving just the mostly translucent aquamarine shirt behind, the tail barely tucked into his pants as he strained to get closer to the mirror. “Damnit,” he added, making a lopsided frown at his reflection, “I think I'm getting a stress zit. I hope it wasn't in any of the pictures.”

“You're gorgeous,” Caleb soothed, reaching out to stroke a hand across his back. “And I really doubt it.” Like anyone could see a minuscule, barely there red spot when they had the rest of Leo to look at—Caleb still felt blinded every time he shot him that devil-may-care smile, those so-blue eyes glowing with mischief and affection and adoration. Sometimes it was still hard to believe, even after two years of this, that he was back where he belonged. That not only had he been forgiven, but that his life was this perfect. He felt swollen with anticipation, for when the bubble might burst.

Leo relaxed into his touch, infinitely trusting, which was even more amazing when you considered his normal somewhat prickly demeanor. But not with Caleb. Ever since he'd given his trust back, he'd never wavered, not for one second. But then that was Leo. He'd always been wrapped up in a set of fascinating contradictions and as he'd grown older, nothing had changed, except he'd become more set in his ways.

“Seriously, stop trying to distract me, I am worried about my little brother.” Leo turned in Caleb's arms, his back against the countertop edge.

“Worried because you conned him into spending two weeks alone with Max when it was the last thing he wanted to do?” Caleb wondered, not for the first time, how on earth they would survive the inevitable cataclysm that happened whenever things came to a head, finally, between Felix and Max. But then, there'd been a part of him that expected the worst with Benji and Diego too, and they'd totally figured their shit out.

Two out of three ain't bad, he thought to himself.

“No,” Leo said, laughing. “That was inspired. I couldn't have come up with a better scenario myself. And it's not like I hadn't been trying. Felix just . . . refuses to take a chance and tell him the truth.”

Of course he'd been encouraging his brother to tell Max how he felt.

“Are you sure . . .?” Caleb hesitated. Maybe it didn't matter what Felix did. Star Shadow was officially on a break now, as of the end of the Grammys. If Felix and Max blew up their friendship, it would hurt, but it probably wouldn't affect the band.

Caleb hadn't used to think of the band and their brand in those terms before—that had always been Benji's obsession—but ever since he'd come back and they'd resurrected the career he'd so thoughtlessly and desperately thrown away seven years earlier, Star Shadow and making the most of their opportunities had slowly become something he cared about so much that he had trouble letting anything get in the way.

His sponsor Brian had told him so many times he had nothing to atone for, but was that really the truth? Wasn't committing himself and making sure Star Shadow continued to bring joy and music to the masses the best kind of apology he could make? Being a good bandmate and being a good friend the most appropriate way to prove he'd changed?

“Then what are you so worried about?” Caleb finally changed the subject. If Felix wanted to tell Max how he felt—that was between them. Caleb didn't think it'd go well, which is why he couldn't understand why Leo kept pushing, but it was their lives.

“Felix,” Leo said, turning back towards the mirror, poking and prodding again at the nearly invisible spot on his cheek, “driving all the way back to Venice Beach. It's so late. He'd had a beer.”

“He's going to be fine,” Caleb said, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. Leo was all committed to his brother finding love, but still worried about him driving home. Was Felix twenty-four or fourteen? It was like Leo couldn't quite make up his mind.

“If only . . .” Leo wheedled. “If only we lived in a house where everyone could stay over, if they wanted to.”

“Oh brother,” Caleb said. “Not this again. Who’s even going to stay here? Felix has his