Summary:
When Caleb Chance walked out of a sold out concert five years ago, leaving his best friends, millions of his fans and his lover behind, Leo knew he would never forgive.
Some things, no matter how justifiable the cause, are unforgivable.
But the last thing Leo ever expected was for Caleb to show up again, clean and sober and wanting to get Star Shadow back together. Leo isn’t interested in ever being in the spotlight again, but maybe this might be the worth the risk.
Leo will have to dig down, and find the strength to confront the love of his life again. He’ll have to reject all the disasters of his past, and discover the possibility for hope and forgiveness in his future. But most of all, he’ll need to face every terrible thing he’s been carrying inside him.
But maybe some things aren’t so terrible after all.
When Benji saw Diego for the first time, he never expected to fall irrevocably and painfully in love with him.
It wasn't something either of them could face, so he buried it. For ten long years.
Ten years during which he survived the pain of his own disastrous marriage and the heartbreak of watching Diego raise a child with another woman.
Through the heights of rock stardom and the depths of their band imploding, Benji's heart always came back to Diego. To his best friend. His bandmate. His secret desire.
Now, enough is enough.
He knows Diego loves him too. He knows they could have it all, no holds barred, with every string attached -- if only they can find the courage to bring their feelings into the spotlight.
It's time to tackle the impossible: life-altering, world-shaking, totally inevitable love.
Impossible Things is the second book in the Star Shadow series and should be read in order.
Terrible Things #1
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay setting up without help?” Caleb asked.
Leo rolled his eyes, trying to return to normal interaction. Caleb didn’t need to know about all the little, unbearably painful, things that still caught him unawares. It turned out that grief wasn’t only that yawning chasm of missing someone so much your teeth ached; sometimes it was the tiny, most insignificant bits of a destroyed, disintegrated life.
“I’m perfectly capable, you know,” Leo insisted. “I can have people over without making a mess of it.”
“Of course you can. I just want to help,” Caleb said, sounding flustered. “That’s why I offered to cook.”
“You shouldn’t be cooking for your own celebration,” Leo said.
“You used to like it when I cooked.”
Leo couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at this understatement. “I fucking loved it when you cooked.”
Caleb looked pleased. “That’s good. Really good. I mean, I want to make you feel that way. Again. Um.” He hesitated, mouth twitching. “All the time, actually.”
It was good to hear. Leo had missed someone taking care of him.
But again, that wasn’t exactly accurate. For Christmas two years ago, Benji had given him the services of a housekeeper for six months. At the time, Leo had been over the moon, thinking it was the perfect gift. But it turned out that he hadn’t liked someone in his business all the time. He didn’t like the way she’d look down her nose at him for leaving dirty dishes overflowing on the coffee table or the way he’d track mud in after a run or that sometimes he wouldn’t leave his warm, comfy bed until two in the afternoon.
In the end, he’d written her a big check, buying both her absence and her silence.
So, specifically, what Leo missed was Caleb taking care of him.
“Maybe that’s something we could do again. Dinner sometime.” At first Leo couldn’t believe he was suggesting it—hadn’t he just thought that Caleb back in the kitchen was too much to handle? But he also told himself that they were trying to be friends again. And friends could share a friendly meal.
“Really?” Caleb sounded incredulous, but he was looking at Leo like he’d just hung the moon and the sun and the stars in the sky.
“Of course,” Leo said, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know we’ll be off on the tour soon, but maybe when we get back.”
“That would be so great.” He paused. “Like maybe even . . . maybe even a date?”
Leo was twenty-six years old but he honest-to-god blushed when Caleb said the magical d word.
“Sure,” Leo said. He couldn’t believe he’d said yes. He also couldn’t believe Caleb had asked after last night’s conversation.
“I know it seems sudden,” Caleb added.
Leo shrugged. “It isn’t like we set a date and time. Just . . . sometime in the future.”
“Nice and vague,” Caleb agreed. “Vague is good.”
Leo was aware they were both grinning at each other like idiots. This was confirmed when Max wandered over and did a double take.
“You two,” he said with a short, barking laugh. “Stop flirting and get going. You’ll see each other soon, I promise.”
Leo rolled his eyes, trying to return to normal interaction. Caleb didn’t need to know about all the little, unbearably painful, things that still caught him unawares. It turned out that grief wasn’t only that yawning chasm of missing someone so much your teeth ached; sometimes it was the tiny, most insignificant bits of a destroyed, disintegrated life.
“I’m perfectly capable, you know,” Leo insisted. “I can have people over without making a mess of it.”
“Of course you can. I just want to help,” Caleb said, sounding flustered. “That’s why I offered to cook.”
“You shouldn’t be cooking for your own celebration,” Leo said.
“You used to like it when I cooked.”
Leo couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at this understatement. “I fucking loved it when you cooked.”
Caleb looked pleased. “That’s good. Really good. I mean, I want to make you feel that way. Again. Um.” He hesitated, mouth twitching. “All the time, actually.”
It was good to hear. Leo had missed someone taking care of him.
But again, that wasn’t exactly accurate. For Christmas two years ago, Benji had given him the services of a housekeeper for six months. At the time, Leo had been over the moon, thinking it was the perfect gift. But it turned out that he hadn’t liked someone in his business all the time. He didn’t like the way she’d look down her nose at him for leaving dirty dishes overflowing on the coffee table or the way he’d track mud in after a run or that sometimes he wouldn’t leave his warm, comfy bed until two in the afternoon.
In the end, he’d written her a big check, buying both her absence and her silence.
So, specifically, what Leo missed was Caleb taking care of him.
“Maybe that’s something we could do again. Dinner sometime.” At first Leo couldn’t believe he was suggesting it—hadn’t he just thought that Caleb back in the kitchen was too much to handle? But he also told himself that they were trying to be friends again. And friends could share a friendly meal.
“Really?” Caleb sounded incredulous, but he was looking at Leo like he’d just hung the moon and the sun and the stars in the sky.
“Of course,” Leo said, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know we’ll be off on the tour soon, but maybe when we get back.”
“That would be so great.” He paused. “Like maybe even . . . maybe even a date?”
Leo was twenty-six years old but he honest-to-god blushed when Caleb said the magical d word.
“Sure,” Leo said. He couldn’t believe he’d said yes. He also couldn’t believe Caleb had asked after last night’s conversation.
“I know it seems sudden,” Caleb added.
Leo shrugged. “It isn’t like we set a date and time. Just . . . sometime in the future.”
“Nice and vague,” Caleb agreed. “Vague is good.”
Leo was aware they were both grinning at each other like idiots. This was confirmed when Max wandered over and did a double take.
“You two,” he said with a short, barking laugh. “Stop flirting and get going. You’ll see each other soon, I promise.”
Impossible Things #2
“Are you okay?”
Benji glanced up and of course it was Diego. Of course it would be him who’d know that something was wrong.
He cleared his throat, his tongue suddenly thick in his mouth. The panic hadn’t faded entirely yet, and he felt too close to the edge still, but Diego reached out and cupped his shoulder with his hand. The fear retreated a little more.
If he couldn’t be honest with Diego, could he be honest with anyone?
“I was just thinking of the last bow, the one we took when we didn’t know it was the last one,” Benji admitted.
After a moment of hesitation—which Benji understood entirely, their friendship sometimes seemed like a walk through a minefield—Diego pulled him into a hug. His hands hovered over Diego’s shoulders before giving in and gripping him tightly.
They stood there together for a long moment, holding on to each other. Benji let his head fall down to Diego’s shoulder, but otherwise they didn’t move.
“It was hard, because we didn’t know it was over, but it was over,” Diego finally said, the sound of the stagehands beginning to take down the stage around them punctuating his words. “But it turns out that it’s not really over after all.”
Benji didn’t want to say that some mornings he woke up and for a split second he still thought it was over. That he sometimes had to remind himself that he wasn’t on his own again, that he wasn’t struggling with a career that didn’t fit quite right, that he didn’t miss his boys so much he ached, that he hadn’t ultimately crashed and burned.
“It’s hard to forget, sometimes,” he said, even though he hadn’t really meant to say anything at all.
Diego pulled back, and even in the dim of backstage, Benji could see the empathy in his eyes. “You know, you’re more than your achievements,” Diego pointed out softly.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t been told that before, but something about the earnest belief in Diego’s voice made him want to believe this time. The problem was knowing, with crystal clear clarity, what he was capable of. And never being able to settle for less than that, without that ugly voice yelling in his ear that he’d failed again.
“I know.” Benji’s smile was wry. “Theoretically.” Reluctantly, he let go of Diego. Too long holding him, too long of them holding each other, and he was going to want even more than he already did.
Diego laughed. “Yeah, that’s the whole problem. Theoretically. You’re rich and famous. You don’t need to work so hard all the damn time. You’ve made it, Benji.”
All theoretically true.
If only that voice would shut the fuck up sometimes.
“Yeah,” Benji said, rolling his eyes. “I know.” He paused. He and Diego had been practically inseparable this tour, but it was ending tonight, and they had two weeks in LA before the recording sessions on the new album started. Even though they’d spent so much time together already, the idea of a two-week break from Diego hurt. It had never hurt before. Somehow, Benji knew, they’d crossed that point of no return. Friendship alone would never be enough again. Had it been the kiss? He could barely remember it, it had been so short and brief. Nothing like he’d always imagined. He’d wanted a do-over for the last six months, but maybe they needed more privacy for that.
“Hey,” he started again hesitantly, “we should get together when we get back to LA.”
Diego was leading the way back to the green room and didn’t look at Benji. “I’m not sure. I’ll probably be busy with Ana.”
Benji knew how much he loved his daughter, and how much he’d missed her on this tour, even though his ex, Vicky, had brought her to as many tour stops as she could. So he didn’t know what to say to that. Even though it was probably true, it was hard not to see it as a brush-off. Diego was good with people; he wouldn’t give a brush-off that felt like one. He’d make it sound legit, all to spare Benji’s feelings.
The question was why was he brushing him off, right after hugging and reassuring him? Benji didn’t know, and didn’t know how to bring it up, because they were walking into the green room, and Max was spraying the walls with a bottle of sparkling apple juice and Leo and Caleb were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas, their favorite post-show soundtrack.
Benji glanced up and of course it was Diego. Of course it would be him who’d know that something was wrong.
He cleared his throat, his tongue suddenly thick in his mouth. The panic hadn’t faded entirely yet, and he felt too close to the edge still, but Diego reached out and cupped his shoulder with his hand. The fear retreated a little more.
If he couldn’t be honest with Diego, could he be honest with anyone?
“I was just thinking of the last bow, the one we took when we didn’t know it was the last one,” Benji admitted.
After a moment of hesitation—which Benji understood entirely, their friendship sometimes seemed like a walk through a minefield—Diego pulled him into a hug. His hands hovered over Diego’s shoulders before giving in and gripping him tightly.
They stood there together for a long moment, holding on to each other. Benji let his head fall down to Diego’s shoulder, but otherwise they didn’t move.
“It was hard, because we didn’t know it was over, but it was over,” Diego finally said, the sound of the stagehands beginning to take down the stage around them punctuating his words. “But it turns out that it’s not really over after all.”
Benji didn’t want to say that some mornings he woke up and for a split second he still thought it was over. That he sometimes had to remind himself that he wasn’t on his own again, that he wasn’t struggling with a career that didn’t fit quite right, that he didn’t miss his boys so much he ached, that he hadn’t ultimately crashed and burned.
“It’s hard to forget, sometimes,” he said, even though he hadn’t really meant to say anything at all.
Diego pulled back, and even in the dim of backstage, Benji could see the empathy in his eyes. “You know, you’re more than your achievements,” Diego pointed out softly.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t been told that before, but something about the earnest belief in Diego’s voice made him want to believe this time. The problem was knowing, with crystal clear clarity, what he was capable of. And never being able to settle for less than that, without that ugly voice yelling in his ear that he’d failed again.
“I know.” Benji’s smile was wry. “Theoretically.” Reluctantly, he let go of Diego. Too long holding him, too long of them holding each other, and he was going to want even more than he already did.
Diego laughed. “Yeah, that’s the whole problem. Theoretically. You’re rich and famous. You don’t need to work so hard all the damn time. You’ve made it, Benji.”
All theoretically true.
If only that voice would shut the fuck up sometimes.
“Yeah,” Benji said, rolling his eyes. “I know.” He paused. He and Diego had been practically inseparable this tour, but it was ending tonight, and they had two weeks in LA before the recording sessions on the new album started. Even though they’d spent so much time together already, the idea of a two-week break from Diego hurt. It had never hurt before. Somehow, Benji knew, they’d crossed that point of no return. Friendship alone would never be enough again. Had it been the kiss? He could barely remember it, it had been so short and brief. Nothing like he’d always imagined. He’d wanted a do-over for the last six months, but maybe they needed more privacy for that.
“Hey,” he started again hesitantly, “we should get together when we get back to LA.”
Diego was leading the way back to the green room and didn’t look at Benji. “I’m not sure. I’ll probably be busy with Ana.”
Benji knew how much he loved his daughter, and how much he’d missed her on this tour, even though his ex, Vicky, had brought her to as many tour stops as she could. So he didn’t know what to say to that. Even though it was probably true, it was hard not to see it as a brush-off. Diego was good with people; he wouldn’t give a brush-off that felt like one. He’d make it sound legit, all to spare Benji’s feelings.
The question was why was he brushing him off, right after hugging and reassuring him? Benji didn’t know, and didn’t know how to bring it up, because they were walking into the green room, and Max was spraying the walls with a bottle of sparkling apple juice and Leo and Caleb were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas, their favorite post-show soundtrack.
Beth Bolden
A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.
Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.
Terrible Things #1
Impossible Things #2
Kitchen Gods Series
Charleston Condors
