Meadows Are Not Forever by Ryan Field

Author:Ryan Field [Field, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: male male, mm romance, gay fiction, Gay romance, gay erotic romance, gay sex, ryan field, gay
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

"Listen to me," said Meadow. "You get right back in there and sit down. You've traveled all that way to audition for the show, and you're not going to back out now. I won't let you leave."

Cade was standing outside the banquet room door, still catching his breath thanks to the scene he'd just made in front of Anderson Randolph. He'd called Meadow and told her what had happened in the men's room. "I can't go back in there," he said. "Now Anderson Randolph not only thinks I'm a spastic klutz, he thinks I'm a psycho, too. I'm going home."

"He might not even remember you, so don't assume anything yet," Meadow said. "You told me he just looked at you and said you looked familiar. He's probably forgotten all about what happened with the cupcake at the airport. And that jerk in the men's room had it coming to him. If a guy grabbed my ass that way I'd kick him in the balls and I wouldn't care who saw me." She wasn't joking around either.

Cade listened; he didn't reply.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Meadow asked. "If you don't get selected for the show, you never see Anderson Randolph or any of those people again. But you can't just give up now. That would be pointless."

Cade took a deep breath and exhaled. "Okay," he said. "I'll go back inside. But I don't have a good feeling about this."

"You always say that and you're always wrong," Meadow said.

She was right about that. Cade knew how to set himself up for failure better than anyone he knew, especially with men. At least he had good instincts when it came to best friends. "Thanks for being there," he said. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Meadow said. "Call me and let me know what happens later."

He smiled. "I will."

When they called his name, Cade was one of ten people left in the room. They'd collected the information sheets at the back of the room first and those up front wound up waiting all day. It was late and Cade's feet were killing him; he had a sharp pain in the middle of his forehead. The pain was partly caused by his mother. He'd had to call her and let her know he'd be home later than he'd expected. He felt like he'd jumped right back into high school, when he'd had to call in and let his mother know everything he was doing. But he had her car; he had to let her know where he was. He could have lived without her harping about traffic, wearing his seat belt, and not talking to strangers. He was twenty-five, he'd been on his own supporting himself in Los Angeles for seven years, and she still treated him as though he were ten years old. If he'd been under less pressure he might have enjoyed the attention. It had been a long time since anyone had cared that much about him. But after what

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