Despite the king-size mattress, she was curled up against his back, a pleasant warmth in the chilly air-conditioning they’d set way too cold, with only a thin blanket over top of them. And if the bumps and clangs from the kitchen area were any indication, someone else was up. Not like Andy or Bobby would give him a hard time over morning wood, but Trey didn’t like walking around in tented boxers.
Thoughts of last night’s rendezvous with Dominic flashed through his mind. Not only the serious part of their conversation, but the very happy endings they both got.
Yeah, not helping his erection. He desperately wanted to be home, alone in his room, so he could jerk off and be done with it.
Instead he rolled awkwardly off the mattress, one hand over his lap. Bobby was puttering around with pancake mix and a skillet. At the far end of the camper, Andy was still curled up on the bottom bunk.
“Morning,” Bobby said. “Thought we could all use a fortifying breakfast before we play.”
“We don’t play for hours yet.”
“Okay, so I need to soak up last night’s booze. Sue me.”
Trey had moderated himself last night so he was fairly sober when he met with Dominic. He’d wanted a clear mind so he said things right. His stomach was a little squirrelly, but only with anticipation. He waited until Bobby had turned to concentrate on mixing the pancake batter, then made a break for the bathroom at the opposite end.
Even though he’d showered the night before to remove the day’s grime and sweat, and the lingering odors of Dominic, he got in a second time so he could take care of his woody. And he was about three strokes away from shooting when the bathroom door banged open.
“Sorry, dude,” Andy said, “but I gotta piss out this beer before my bladder bursts.”
The interruption paused activity, because no way was Trey jacking off with one of his bandmates on the other side of an opaque plastic door. He listened for the start and end of a long stream. Metal jangled.
“Don’t flush!” Trey said.
Andy flushed.
A blast of icy water hit Trey in the chest. He yelped, but had nowhere to go in the small tub. His hard-on died a fast death. He hit the water controls. The bathroom door shut on the sound of Andy and Bobby cracking up.
“Asshole!” Trey shouted.
He dried off, then wrapped a towel around his waist. Bobby was plating pancakes when he emerged. Trey flipped Andy off as he dug into his duffel bag for clothes. He’d long ago mastered the art of putting his briefs and shorts on underneath of a damp towel. He didn’t like flashing his scars.
“Wake up, Dani.” He threw the towel at her head.
Danielle grumped and rolled away from them. She never had been a morning person, especially after partying the night before.
Tension hung in the air all over them, even though no one was acknowledging it. Trey plunked down next to Bobby at the dinette table and reached for a pancake, hoping the food would settle the nervous rumbling in his belly. He didn’t like to drown his in syrup and butter like Bobby. Even Andy had dumped a bunch of grape jelly over his. Trey ate it dry, along with a big glass of cranberry juice.
“Dude, how can you drink that stuff?” Andy asked.
“It’s good for you.”
“So’s kale but I’m not gonna mainline that shit, either.”
Trey laughed. “Neither am I. That stuff is gross.”
“So’s cranberry juice.”
“It’s an acquired taste. Kind of like Dani.”
“I heard that,” she grumped.
“You were meant to.” All the easy banter didn’t totally ease the tension in the camper, but it helped. “Get up. We have to play today.”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” She rolled over and sat up. Her face was creased by the pillow and her hair was a mess. “Why don’t I remember coming home last night?”
Bobby snorted his coffee. “Because you had one too many Unbound Bombs and started feeling up a guy from a metal band.”
“Oh.” She scrunched his nose. “Was he cute?”
