his chest. Jase needed him, and no one had ever needed Carey before, not like this. No one. Jase was the strongest person Carey had ever known, and he’d allowed himself to fall apart in front of Carey, let him share the burden of his emotional pain. He’d hugged Jase close.
“Thank you for telling me, Jase. Thank you for trusting me.”
Jase met Carey’s eyes. “There’s no one I trust more.”
Now Carey watched as Jase stood in a corner backstage with Mari. She was talking earnestly, with big hand gestures, and Carey searched Jase’s expression carefully. His friend didn’t seem overly upset with whatever his ex-wife was saying, nodding every now and then while she spoke, and when it was his turn to speak, he reached down and took her hands in his, holding them as he talked.
After several more minutes, they hugged tightly, and then Jase walked her out, his arm around her waist as he led her to the door. Carey snagged a beer as he waited for Jase to return, noting with disgust Jayden, the groupie, had arrived and was scanning the crowd, obviously looking for Jase. It irritated him the blond man seemed to have a standing invitation to be at these after-parties, no one questioning his presence or challenging his right to be there. He wondered if Jase would disappear with Jayden again, and then he wondered why he would care. He didn’t care if Jase “got the chrome sucked off his hitch” by that whiny blond. Did he?
Jase strode back into the room and made a beeline for Carey, high-fiving a couple of people as he passed but not stopping to talk to any of them. His eyes were sparkling with happiness.
“What is it, Jase? What did Mari want?” Carey handed him a beer, waiting while Jase took several large swallows, trying not to look at his lips and the way his throat moved. Fuck, what was the fascination with watching the man drink all of a sudden?
Suddenly Jayden appeared next to Jase, and Carey’s hands clenched into fists as Jase’s arm slipped around his waist.
“Hey, Jay,” he said distractedly, and Carey relaxed a fraction as he noted Jase’s gesture seemed almost absentminded, a habit, a part of his tendency toward casual touch. He didn’t make any move to pull Jayden closer, and there really was nothing suggestive about the gesture. In fact a slightly annoyed look crossed his face as Jayden plastered himself to his side. He dropped his arm and took a subtle step back.
“Not tonight, Jayden,” he said under his breath, but Carey heard him clearly. “I’ve got a friend here, yeah?”
Carey watched in a kind of disgusted fascination as Jayden made a show of biting his lower lip, then licking it, looking at Jase from under his lashes. “I could help you change clothes real quick, Jase. I know you love it when I help.” He licked his lips again. It was a seductive gesture and probably had worked for him many times before, but Jase appeared unmoved.
“Not tonight, Jay,” he repeated. “Grab a beer, get some food, okay? I’ll see you later. Have fun.”
Jase grabbed Carey’s bicep and pulled him away from the table and toward his dressing room, leaving Jayden standing there alone, his petulant “But Jase” following them out.
“Layla is right; he’s such a whiny bitch,” Jase grumbled. “I gotta revoke his backstage pass. His behavior is really getting old.”
Jase slammed the door of the dressing room and immediately stripped his tight, sweaty T-shirt over his head, throwing it into a corner. He picked up a pack of wet wipes from his dressing table and pulled several out, wiping down his neck and chest, scrubbing them in his furry armpits. Carey made an effort to snap his mouth closed as he watched Jase clean the rivulets of sweat off of his golden skin, the wet wipes leaving a different kind of glistening trail that dried quickly. Jase leaned over to toss the used wipes in a nearby wastebasket, applying some deodorant before reaching for the waistband of the tight leather pants