“Yes.”
“Dude!”
“No.” Dom shook his head. “I’m keeping this one to myself for now.” He didn’t want to share Trey. Not when every hour that brought them closer to a public performance at Trey’s favorite club brought Dom closer to being found out. Closer to Trey hating him.
“Damn it, I need gossip.” Lincoln pretended to pout. “These two are so drama-free right now it’s boring.”
Tyson threw both hands in the air. “Drama-free? Who recently abandoned his old band for you and is about to perform at the place that gave him his start? This guy.”
“That’s because you know a winning band when you see one.”
“That too.” Tyson eyed Dom a little too intently.
Dom pretended to check something on his phone. He’d noticed the occasional look from Tyson since he’d joined the band, and he chalked it up to casual flirting. All four of them were gay, and they didn’t hide the fact. Sometimes it even helped get them bookings. Dom also had a pretty strong rule about not fucking his bandmates. Ever. So if Tyson had some kind of crush happening, it was going to stay unrequited.
Besides, Dom’s head was full of Trey.
“So where are we eating?” Benji asked. “I’m starving. But no more seafood. If I never look at another steamed clam again, I’ll die a happy boy.”
“You’re so basic,” Lincoln said. “You’re at the beach, dude, every restaurant here serves seafood. Get a steak or something. There’s a place around the corner that looks like fun.”
Dom followed his friends out of the hotel and into the hot summer evening, barely listening as Lincoln described the restaurant’s exterior. His thoughts stayed back in Trey’s bedroom, on a beautiful boy and the equally beautiful music they’d made together.
Music that would soon be only a memory.
FIVE
Danielle was so suitably embarrassedover the cherry blurt-out that she left Trey alone until it was time for him to head to the club for work. He liked being a bar back, because it gave him a chance to listen to music and flirt, while doing mindless things like collecting empties and slicing lime garnishes. Sasha was already behind the bar, doing her thing, when he clocked in at six.
“Need anything?” he asked.
“Ice.”
Trey went off to fetch ice from the big machine in the back. He had four hours to kill until XYZ went onstage and he finally got to see his enemies. The time passed faster than he expected, work speeding up as the crowd grew larger. Their eight o’clock act had a decent local following, so they packed in quite a few people. Van came on then to help Sasha behind the bar.
Van was one of the few people at Off Beat that Trey simply didn’t like. He couldn’t figure what it was about the guy. Van flirted with customers but was distant with his coworkers. He spiked his black hair and had a silver hoop in his lower lip, which seemed at odds with his at-work personality. Mostly it was a feeling, like Van was one wrong word away from snapping.But he never had, as far as Trey knew, and Beatrice only hired people she liked, so whatever. Trey kept his head down and the maraschino cherry bin full.
Beatrice stopped by a few times to make sure the bar was running smoothly. At her nine o’clock drive-by, Trey stopped her. “Hey, is XYZ here yet?”
She pinned him with an intent stare. “Is this going to be a problem for you tonight?”
“No. I’m pissed at Tyson, sure, but it’s not like I’m going to start throwing old fruit at him.”
“Good.” She clucked her tongue. “They’re hiding in the back until it’s time. I think Tyson is reasonably nervous about being seen with another band.”
“He should be nervous, the jerkwad.”
“I’m giving their drink orders to Sasha. Please don’t spit in any of them.”
“What about cyanide?”
She ruffled his hair. “Go do work.”
“I always work.” With that parting salvo, he picked three empty glasses off the bar. “See?”
Bobby and Danielle showed up at nine thirty, right as the current act ended and the stage started being reset with equipment. Sasha plunked their usual drinks in front of them without asking. “On me tonight,” she said. “Sucks ass about Tyson.”
“Thanks,” Bobby said.
