Dom smiled at a pile of balled-up underwear. He didn’t want to share Trey but he could tell Lincoln about the other stuff. “Yeah.” He gave up sorting laundry and sat next to Lincoln. “I went to Off Beat, actually. They had an open-mike night. I played onstage.”
Lincoln’s blue eyes went wide. “You played your violin?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, Dom, that’s huge.” Lincoln grabbed his face and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead. “I am so proud of you.”
“Me too. It was scary at first, and I barfed in the john once waiting to go on, but the second I started playing? It was everything I remembered. Everything good, at least.”
“That’s excellent. I mean it. You always were mega-talented on that thing.”
“It was important to finally do it again, you know? It’s been six years. Too fucking long.”
“Nah, too long would have been waiting one more day. You had to do it when you were ready.”
Dom gave in to the need to hug Lincoln, tugging his best friend into his arms. Lincoln knew every single thing about Dom. He’d been there for the best, and he’d been through the worst, and some things they didn’t have to say because they both knew. He desperately wanted to tell Lincoln about Trey, but Lincoln might not understand. Dom didn’t want to have to choose between them.
Lincoln kissed his cheek, then pulled away. “So how are things on the home front?”
“Good. Mom’s still in denial about Roxy going to college in Florida. Roxy wants to rent a car and drive herself down, and Mom about had a fit at the idea.”
“Hah. I bet.”
“I volunteered to do the road trip with her, and I think Mom’s considering that one.”
“A road trip to Florida with your sister? You are a masochist.”
“Roxy’s not that bad.”
Lincoln had lived through Roxy’s attitude-adjustment period, and some of it hadn’t been pretty. She’d even tried seducing Lincoln—to hilariously poor results—because she didn’t believe that such “an epically blond hottie” could be gay.
“You didn’t let those Fading Daze guys get to you, did you?” Lincoln asked.
“What?” He couldn’t possibly know about—wait. Friday in the green room. Trey had said some hurtful things, but he’d been angry. Betrayed. “Nah. They had a right to be bitchy. Doesn’t matter.”
“Nope. Tyson is ten times better than Reid ever was on the drums, and we’re going to kick ass at Unbound.”
“Still can’t believe we got in.”
“Hey!”
Dom knuckled his shoulder. “No, I mean that another band dropped out and we moved up to the shortlist.”
“It was meant to be, my friend. God finally decided he’d put us through enough bullshit, and it’s now our time to shine.”
“Cosign.”
Lincoln deserved his big break and then some. He’d been raised as privileged as Dom, with loving parents and money. His parents had encouraged his musical talents, even though they frequently clashed on what he should play. He and Dom had met in a summer music camp before Dom’s junior and Lincoln’s senior year of high school. It was the summer they both finally embraced being gay. Dom had great memories of awkward fumblings in bathroom stalls and stolen moments in the practice rooms.
And then Lincoln went home and came out to his folks.
No one saw the results of that confrontation coming. After a hefty argument that included demands for Lincoln to deny it or else, Lincoln’s father had pushed him down the stairs. The fall broke his collarbone and gave him a mild concussion. That was the last time he saw his father. His mother showed up at the hospital with a suitcase of his things and said don’t come home. He hadn’t.
He’d recovered with Dom’s family, and then he went to live with a cousin in Philadelphia, because he didn’t want charity. Lincoln got a job and his GED. Even though Lincoln never sawhimself as a victim, he’d been through hell and come out of it strong, confident, and ready to take on all comers.
They’d both been knocked down and come up swinging.
“So you hear anything else about Thursday night?” Dom asked.
