Ezra had no idea where Phantom was taking him. He definitely hadn't expected it to be his motorcycle club.

At least it proved he'd told his crew about being into men.

As soon as the engine cut off, Ezra slid off the bike and pulled off his helmet. Phantom did the same beside him. Ezra looked around. The nightclub was closed, and the clubhouse didn't seem particularly busy either. There was another building nearby—he vaguely remembered it being some kind of venue, too.

That's where Phantom was headed. He looked excited about whatever he had planned, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. Turned out it was a small concert hall, filled with a crowd that looked alternative and edgy.

Phantom led him to the bar and ordered beers for both of them. With the plastic cup in hand, Ezra took in the space. A narrow balcony lined the walls, and stage lights cast everything in shades of red and blue. No one was performing yet, but the instruments were already set up on stage.

The lighting made it hard to read the banner on the back wall, but when he finally managed, his jaw dropped. From Ashes To New. His favorite band. The very first thing he and Phantom had bonded over.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "They're playing in your backyard?"

Phantom laughed and leaned in close to be heard over the background noise. His arm brushed against Ezra's. "Yup. Got lucky—they were touring this side of the country and I managed to book them six weeks ago."

Ezra nearly dropped his drink. He wasn't someone who blushed easily, but his face was definitely too warm now. "Are you telling me you brought them here for me?"

Phantom smiled—a dizzying, beautiful smile that Ezra wanted to steal straight off his lips. "After twenty-six years, I finally felt like making a romantic gesture for someone. Thought I'd go big."

Well, he'd definitely succeeded. Nothing could top this.

"You'll even get to have a beer with them after the show."

"After the show, I have very different plans than beer," Ezra said. He loved the music, but he wasn't the type to idolize musicians. Sure, hanging out with them would be fun. But the gesture itself had him glowing all over. He wanted to kiss Phantom until the past few months melted into nothing.

Phantom's laugh got lost in the crowd, but his eyes sparkled. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the stage lights shifted—and the band stepped onto the stage. They opened with Nightmare, which was almost ironic, considering Ezra felt like he was living a dream.

He let himself get swept up in the music, the energy, Phantom's presence. His throat went raw after just a few songs, but he didn't care. The lyrics weren't cheerful, but they'd carried him through hard times, and every word still hit home.

By the end, his shirt clung to his skin with sweat and he'd completely lost his voice. The venue emptied out, and despite earlier innuendos, they hung around and had a beer with the band. His favorite songs were from the first album—and only one of them had been played, since they'd switched singers after that—but it was still one hell of a night.

Unforgettable, just like Phantom had promised.

When they finally left and stepped into the warm night air, a pleasant tension curled through Ezra's body. He'd already told Phantom he wasn't into one-night stands—and he didn't believe for a second that Phantom would go through all this trouble for just a quick hookup.

Still, it was a relief when Phantom didn't suggest heading to his bedroom. Instead, he asked if Ezra wanted to go for a ride.

"Now I wish I'd switched to soda like you," Ezra said as they reached Phantom's bike. "I could've taken a turn driving."

Phantom climbed onto the bike and slid back—right into the spot Ezra had just vacated. He gave him a loaded look. "Wanna christen it first?"

Oh. Hell yes.

Ezra climbed onto the Harley, facing Phantom, and scooted close. Phantom kept the bike steady with his feet, and Ezra planted his own just in front.

He looked at Phantom.

Despite all his bold talk, the man seemed nervous. His breathing was fast, and some of his confidence had slipped from his gaze.

Ezra lifted one hand and slid it around the back of Phantom's neck, gently pulling him closer. His fingers tangled in Phantom's unruly hair, his other hand resting against the tense tendons in his neck.

A warm hand cupped the side of Ezra's face. He felt Phantom's shaky breath against his lips and answered with his own steady calm. Their mouths found each other, softened into one another, opened up.

Ezra's tongue teased along Phantom's, searching for what he liked—what made him gasp, what made his fingers tighten against Ezra's jaw. He shifted the angle, flicked his tongue playfully, traced Phantom's lower lip.

Phantom groaned into his mouth.

The sound rippled through Ezra's whole body and reverberated low in his gut. Apparently it hit Phantom just as hard—he picked up the pace, digging his fingers into Ezra's beard, his hair, like he was anchoring himself.

A storm broke loose between their lips, their tongues—a contest of racing heartbeats. In the end, oxygen won. They pulled apart, panting, Ezra resting his forehead against the biker's.

"Not bad," Ezra said, breathless, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.

"You mean fucking amazing."

Ezra laughed and kissed him again, then leaned back just enough to give himself some space. His cock was aching, and he'd already felt that Phantom wasn't doing much better.

"Well, I'd say your Harley's been properly christened."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure."

"Whatever else you're thinking, I'm not doing it here in the middle of the parking lot."

Phantom smacked his chest with the back of his hand. "What do you take me for?"

"I don't know, man. You bikers do all kinds of weird public shit. There's a strip club like a hundred meters from here."

"I'm a very respectable man."

Ezra burst out laughing. "Alright, respectable man. Where exactly are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

Ezra pressed a kiss to his nose before climbing off the bike. He waited for Phantom to scoot forward and hopped back on. "Good thing I like surprises."

"You might regret saying that."

There was an unexpected edge of bitterness in his voice. A reminder that they hadn't gotten here without a few scars. That maybe, before letting their feelings sweep them away completely, they still needed to talk. About the past few months. About what came next.