“Thank you.” Playing tonight had been as nerve-racking as it had been therapeutic—and he wouldn’t change meeting Trey for anything.
“Don’t let a month go by before you text me.”
“Impossible.”
Trey climbed out with a small wave. Dom really wanted to kiss him good-bye but Trey didn’t lean in for a kiss, and he wasskipping down the sidewalk too fast for Dom to call him back. He palmed his cell phone and sent a thumbs-up emoji.
A few seconds later, Trey sent the same one back.
The simple little computer creation made Dom’s heart flip. He held on tight to those happy feelings as he listened to Lincoln’s voice mail.
THREE
Trey hadn’t meantto lie to Dominic. The brief flash of genuine fear when Dominic asked if that had been his first time being fucked had awoken something inside of Trey that demanded he protect his new . . . friend. So he’d lied and said no, it wasn’t his first time. Sure, it had hurt a little bit, but he’d expected that. The thing he hadn’t expected was how fucking amazing it would feel.
He’d had some decent orgasms in his life. Jerking off, hand jobs from other guys. It always felt great.
Sex with Dominic had been beyond his ability to describe, even to himself. Intense. Insane. Fireworks. Perfection. Bliss. No right words for how it had felt, and how he still felt walking home. It took everything in him not to turn around for one last glimpse of Dominic’s face.
Good Christ, he was gorgeous.
The emoji text from Dominic made him laugh out loud, the sound echoing down the mostly quiet side street.
Despite it being almost one in the morning, the living room lights were on in his downstairs apartment. Bobby and Danielle pounced on him the second he walked inside, both of their faces angry and intense. He froze two steps in the door.
“What did I do?” Trey asked.
“They’re in town,” Bobby said.
With Bobby and Danielle side by side, no one would ever guess they were related, much less brother and sister. Danielle was five-four, with dark brown hair and pale skin. Bobby was six-two, with naturally white-blond hair and the kind of complexion that tanned every summer without him even trying. And they were quite a sight, glaring at him like he’d broken their best bass guitar.
Trey waited for more, but he’d been dropped into a conversation in progress. “Who’s they?”
“XYZ.”
“Who’s that? A band? Do we not like them?”
“Yes, they’re a band,” Danielle snapped. “They’re the fucking band that stole Tyson away.”
Trey startled. “Seriously? They’re in town?”
“It gets better. Apparently Beatrice had a last-minute cancellation to play at Off Beat tomorrow, and somehow this bunch of jackasses weaseled their way into the ten o’clock spot.”
“What?” That shocked the shit out of Trey. Beatrice had been a huge supporter of Fading Daze since their first public performance, and she knew how hard losing Tyson had hit them. They only had a few weeks to find a new drummer, and meanwhile she was giving a platform to the enemy.
“Exactly.” Danielle talked with her hands, and both of them were flapping in the air like she planned to take flight. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I bet Tyson’s the only reason Beatrice said yes,” Bobby said. “Fuck loyalty to Fading Daze.”
Trey kind of wanted to argue that Beatrice was filling a ten o’clock Friday-night slot last minute, and that it had probably been business, not personal—but he wasn’t feeling generous. He was pissed. All the happy feelings he’d carried home from histime with Dominic fled, replaced by hot anger. If Tyson wanted to jump ship, fine. Their band would survive.
Tyson playing with his new band at Fading Daze’s origin spot was a big fat fuck-you to them.
“Dani and I were thinking about a trip to Off Beat tomorrow night,” Bobby said. “You in?”
“I’m already working so I’ll be there.” Trey wanted to see what pack of douchecanoes had snared their drummer.
“Good. We’ll get there a little early so we can find a good spot to heckle their asses.”
