“I love your family.”
Dominic smothered Trey with his bigger body, sealing them together. “You love them because they agreed to conspire with you to get me here.”
Trey searched Dominic’s eyes but didn’t see any reproach there. “Do you regret it?”
“No. Will I be going out of my mind with nerves in a few hours? Definitely. But you’ll be right there with me, and that’s everything, Trey.”
They shared a lazy kiss that chased the outside world away for a while—until the chill of the AC and the sticky come between them turned into the very real need for a shower. They peeled themselves apart. Dominic rolled off the bed first, then reached out.
Trey clasped his hand and bounced to his feet. He brought Dominic’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Looked up into Dominic’s loving, possessive gaze and said, “That was.”
Dominic smiled. “Yeah. That was.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Dom madeit through a light dinner at a tapas place the hotel concierge recommended before his nerves began taking over. Back at the hotel room, he called his parents for reassurance and to see how Lincoln was doing.
“He’s awake a lot more now but still complaining of headaches a lot,” Mom said. “The neurologist said it isn’t uncommon, though. They think he can be moved out of the ICU as early as tomorrow.”
“That’s great.” Dom relayed the news to the others in the room. “How’s Joshua?”
“He’s going home in the morning. With Benji, I should say. Joshua doesn’t want his parents to take care of him, so he’s going to move in with Benji and his folks for a while.”
The decision didn’t surprise Dom much. Joshua wasn’t super close with his family, but he adored Benji’s.
Trey flagged his attention and pointed at his wrist. Time to head down.
Acid filled Dom’s stomach. “I gotta go, Mom.”
“Maybe it’s not the best phrase with the accident so fresh, but break a leg, honey. We’ll be watching.”
“Thanks.”
He hung up, then snagged his violin case. They’d decided to wear black jeans and black sleeveless tees that helped their matching rice necklaces stand out. He fingered the glass charm, remembering the flash of love he’d felt when Trey told him what he’d had painted on the tiny piece of rice. Something beautiful and uniquely theirs.
“See you guys after,” Trey said.
On the way out the door, Dom got fist bumps from Andy and Bobby, and a quick hug from Danielle. He didn’t know or care how much Trey had told them about why this was so important to Dom, only that they seemed to get it. And Trey was right—Bobby was a pretty cool guy when he wasn’t pissed at you.
The performance hall was only half a block away, its corridors swarming with people—musicians, family and friends of musicians, and probably a ton of press and agents and other industry professionals from all over the country. Unbound might be in its freshman year, but it was a big fucking deal.
Trey seemed to remember where Emily had told the showcase acts to go in order to get backstage to the green room, so Dom allowed him to lead. A few times they paused to chat with fans who recognized one of them or the other. Dom noticed a few program signs announcing the sudden change in the indie rock categories for both the showcase and the competition.
He tugged Trey to a stop in the crowded lobby and stared at the name listed for the showcase. “Off Beat?”
“It seemed appropriate.” Trey grinned. “It’s where we met and first played together.”
“True. I like it.”
“Good.” Trey shocked the hell out of him by pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
They ended up tumbling into the familiar green room at exactly 7:15, the latest that the showcase acts were expected to arrive for a pre-performance meeting with Emily, AnthonyKross, and some of the tech staff. Because of the sheer number of performances in a four-hour block of time, everyone got one song, no longer than four minutes and thirty seconds. Someone projected the schedule onto the wall, high enough and large enough that everyone could see it.
Indie rock was the second category up, and Off Beat was listed as first.
Dom clutched his violin case to his chest, his insides going squirrelly. He’d stood in this green room once, more than six years ago, just as nervous as he was now. He had been one giant bundle of nerves, terrified of screwing up and disappointing his teacher.
Now he was terrified of screwing up and disappointing Trey. Even though he knew their song backward and forward, anything could go wrong. He could freeze. The lights could go out. His strings could break.
