| Looking around the studio at his bandmates, and his best friend, he had hoped to lose himself in his work. Working...the time when he thought he would be able to escape the walls closing in...the constant thoughts of him....of the pain twisting around his heart. He slowly rubbed his hand over his face and closed his eyes. Just fucking concentrate, he thought, how hard can that be? "What�s up man," Jon�s voice broke through his thoughts, "you�ve been in a funk all day. You wanna talk about it?" Shaking his head while never looking up from his guitar, "no.....I�m fine.....let�s just keep going okay?" "Keep going?! Goin� where dude? Your body�s been here....but this...up here," Jon tapped his finger to the side of Richie�s head, "it�s been going somewhere else all day. Everything okay at home?" Richie�s head snapped up. "Yeah...why wouldn�t it be," his eyes narrowed, his voice growing tense. Jon raised his hands and shook his head, "hey man...relax...I�m just askin�. This ain�t like you Sambo. You�re never the one that fucks up a song...but shit Rich..." "I know, alright.....I know I been messin� up....that�s why I SAID... gimme a few minutes...." his actions becoming visibly agitated. Jon crouched down to look his friend in the eyes, "Jesus Richie....what�s goin� on...is it something at home? C�mon we�ve been friends too long...I know you too well....." Richie slowly rose, taking a deep breath and setting his guitar on the desk, "maybe you only think you know me Jon...all of you," his voice raising as he gestured toward their friends. "Well guess what...I don�t even know who the fuck I am anymore." "Rich.........," Jon reached for his arm, "talk to me......what the hell is going on?" Richie pulled his arm away and glared at his friend, "leave it alone Jon....just leave it alone." Tipping his head back, Jon let out a long breath and spoke evenly, "maybe you need to go." "What? Go where...I screw up a couple times and you tell me I need to go...fuck you Jon....." "Listen to me.....just a break Rich...call it a day....take whatever time you need...just get your shit together..." Turning and walking toward the door, Richie glanced over his shoulder, "you�re right...I need to get the hell out of here." "Let me know when you�re ready to come back to work ...I�m here...we�re all here," he stepped closer, placing a hand on his friend�s broad shoulders. Richie reached back and touched his friend�s hand, "thanks man....but..I gotta go....." "You going home?" "Honestly," his shoulders lifting in a heavy shrug, "I don�t know...maybe the beach...." Opening the door he slowly made his way through it. "I mean it Richie....if you need me....if you just wanna talk...." "Thanks.....ain�t nothin� you can do Jon....I appreciate it...but you can�t fix this," his voice soft, as he shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away. There�s only one person that can fix this, he thought. Stopping to lean against the wall, he closed his eyes. He could still see the pain in those beautiful green eyes. "Me," he spoke softly, "I�m the only one that can fix this.....but do I even want to?" Leaving the studio, he got in his car and drove until his mind couldn�t take anymore, then finally heading for home. He knew his wife wouldn�t be there for hours so he followed the stone path down the hill onto the private beach. He stopped to turn back around...looking at his house...their house. Sliding his hands under his sunglasses, he rubbed them over his face, "so fucking screwed up.....all of it." He shook his head then bent down to remove his shoes and roll up his jeans. He jogged down into the surf, turning he slowly walked down the beach making his way to the the pier. He bent over resting his hands on his knees, "God help me......what the hell did I get myself into?" Dropping down onto the sand, he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the sky...the sun warming his face. His mind was flooding with memories that he wasn�t sure he wanted to remember, but yet knowing he didn�t want to forget. **ONE YEAR AGO** Kevin was thrilled to be at the Super Bowl and until halftime, had actually been able to focus on the game itself. Bon Jovi had performed at halftime, and while he had never considered himself a big fan of the group, he found himself captivated by their guitar player, Richie Sambora. Kevin was taken by the way his body felt the music. Richie�s fingers flew across the strings...head back, eyes closed....he seemed to dance an erotic dance with every chord he played on his guitar. Kevin watched as he lost himself in the music....for those brief moments it was as if Richie & his guitar were the only ones on stage. Then his eyes would open, he�d connect with the crowd and a huge grin would light up his face. His joy was palpable and contagious...Kevin was hooked. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kevin stood at the bar at a post game celebrity party, anxiously watching the door, for what...he wasn�t sure. "What the fuck are you doing Richardson...," he said to no one, downing his second shot of tequila. He lifted his glass and the bartender soon appeared with a bottle of Jose Cuervo. Kevin nodded and his glass was filled again. He tossed back the firey liquid without so much as flinching...not a good sign. Soon his arms were on the bar and his head was in his arms. "Oh...don�t got any answers do ya Richardson? Hell no...not one fucking answer," his head thumping lightly off the bar. "Every other man in this room is hoping for a glimpse of Gwen Stefani�s ass...and all I can think about is a guitar player for Bon Jovi....a fucking straight and married guitar player. Fuck....just fuck me." He felt a hand on his shoulder, "it�s only a game..c�mon man.. it can�t be that bad" That voice... Kevin closed his eyes...leaving his head in his arms. God...if you�re listenin�, he thought, please tell me that is not Richie Sambora. Slowly turning his head to the side, he cracked open one eye. All he saw was a loosely buttoned shirt revealing a medallion against a hard chest. He quickly dropped his head back onto the bar, "oooooh great...just fuckin� great. C�mon Kevin....just look up...what the fuck is wrong with you? Maybe it�s not really him...maybe it�s someone else...someone like....fuckin� Carrot Top...no...shit...he�s probably shootin� another commercial with my wife." Kevin slowly opened his eyes, tilting his head... And shit...Carrot Top don�t look like that..... "You okay down there," Richie laughed while patting Kevin�s shoulder. Okay Richardson...think...be cool...you�re the smooth one.... Kevin lifted his head off the bar extending his hand, hoping that maybe...just maybe he hadn�t looked like a total loser, "Kevin...." "Ah...no...I would be Richie..but I�m kinda guessin� that you�re Kevin," he said with a smile, while returning the handshake. He turned to the bartender, "Double shot of Cuervo...." "A man after my own heart" Kevin said with a smile. Shit...shit...double shit "Excuse me?!?!?!" Damn...those are some green eyes...now where the hell did that come from... "Cuervo" Kevin replied, tipping his now refilled glass. "Ahhhhh...." The sound of his rich laughter filled the small space between them... "Ta-kill-ya..." Richie took his drink and turned to leave the bar. "Don�t drown those sorrows too long man...this room is filled with women who want nothing more than to bag a rock star...," he winked, "or a Backstreet Boy..." He flashed that huge smile again and stepped back into the crowd. "Yeah...it�s always the women...but what if it�s the Backstreet Boy who wants to bag the rock star...," Kevin whispered to no one. Tossing back the rest of his shot, he watched the broad shouldered man walk away. Kevin slowly stood and tried to clear his head. Feeling empowered by the alcohol, he gave himself a quick shake and started to move further into the room. "This has got to be the most ridiculous thing you�ve ever done," he muttered under his breath. He pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes searching the room...paying no attention to the admiring glances being thrown his way. Stopping, he turned to look around the room...there was one set of eyes watching him that he was unable to ignore. It�s now or never, he thought, his gaze locked on the brown eyes in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward...time to work the old Richardson magic... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Richie Sambora was determined to ignore what happened when he met the Backstreet Boy at the bar. Sure, he thought, he seems nice enough... ...when the hell did I start to check out guys??? ....but he seemed pretty messed up, too...... ...so I look into his fucking eyes..and think they�re beautiful.... He shook his head trying to make some sense of it.... ...and who wouldn�t want to bag that Backstreet Boy....... Shit, what the hell am I thinking, he wondered, as he downed his drink and looked for a waitress to order another. As he glanced around, he saw Kevin working his way through the crowd. For reasons he wasn�t quite sure of, he found himself staring and silently hoping....but for what? Kevin ducked his head slightly when he realized he was being watched, suddenly feeling very awkward and not sure if this was such a good idea. "Kevin....," he barely heard the voice over the noise in the bar, but he saw the hand motioning for him, "over here." Richie watched him close the distance between them, thoroughly amused by the actions of the women Kevin passed...some bold enough to even grab onto him. Looking him up and down, he had to admit...Kevin was one seriously good looking man. "Damn...that was almost as bad as getting through hotel lobbies," Kevin chuckled as he made his way over to Richie ... following him to a small table behind the bar. "Don�t I know it man......it�s crazy sometime. But, I guess with you guys....it must get really nuts. I�ve read some of the stories.....it�s ridiculous," he responded with a shake of his head, pulling a chair out to sit down. "You.....," Kevin blinked and raised his eyebrows, "you�ve read about us?" "Who hasn�t," he shrugged while sitting down. "Pop music might not be my thing, so to speak, but I know...and appreciate talent." "Damn....," his voice soft as he dropped into the chair beside Richie, "that�s ... just .... damn!" Both men laughed as a waitress appeared with more tequila. A bottle of tequila and two hours later, both men were stunned at how quickly the time had passed and how much they actually had in common....everything from their careers...their families and even their personal lives. Richie�s eyes lit up when Kevin mentioned having seen a magazine spread about the renovations he�d done to his home. Kevin quickly learned that this was something Richie was very proud of and loved to share. "Yeah...it took me 10 years to get it just the way I wanted it...." 10 years....shit.....I wouldn�t have made you wait 10 years to get it the way you wanted "Kevin....yo...Kev...you still here?" "Huh....?!?!" oh shit...I am so busted...... Richie laughed, "I said....you should come over and see it sometime..." "Ummm....what�cha want me to see?" "My house Kevin...weren�t you listenin�? I invited you over to see my house. In fact...we�re having a party in two weeks, why don�t you just come over then?" "I�d love to...," he replied as he hastily scribbled his cell phone number on a bar napkin. "Gimme a call with the details." Kevin stood to leave and extended his hand, "I need to head out before I fall out." "Fall outta what," Richie laughed while grasping Kevin�s hand. "It�s a southern thing...., " he said with a silly grin, "gimme a call." Hesitating for just a moment, Richie�s gaze met Kevin�s..."absolutely. Watching Kevin walk out of the bar, he shook his head, "what the hell just happened?" BACK HOME NEXT |
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| Chapter Two |