“A little yes, but I know you, Coop. You’re a stubborn pain in the ass who learned really fast to only keep close the people who made you feel good about yourself. And right now, Dom is seriously crapping out in that department. So you’re keeping your distance.”
“I guess so.”
“Then as your best friend, if taking a break from Dom is what you need, I support you.” She reached into her shorts pocket and dropped his phone in front of him. “But at least hear him out first.”
Trey grunted, then played the voice mail. Audio version of last night’s text. He thumbed open his texts, and the latest from Dom hit him with a hot flash of anger. Lincoln made Dom see Trey’s point about Unbound.
Lincoln.
Dom hadn’t listened to him, but his best friend somehow made more sense than his boyfriend. Lincoln got Dom to commit to that final “fuck you,” not Trey.
So Trey sent back the most passive-aggressive thing he could think of in that moment:Good for you. I need SPACE.
He flung his phone at the foot of the bed, then rolled onto his back. “I need to get laid.”
“You and me both.” Danielle curled up next to him, her head a welcome weight against his shoulder. “Do I want to ask?”
“No. You know what? I need to focus on Unbound right now. Maybe we’re only in the showcase, but we’re going to be seen by a shit-ton of people. We needed to be better than our best. We need to practice.”
“Bobby gets home around six. Want me to see what Andy’s up to?”
“Definitely.”
She left his room, apparently remembering to bring in his phone but not her own. Trey stared at the ceiling, resenting the new anger and wishing he could make it go away. But he was exhausted from fighting with Dom. Maybe once Unbound was over, they’d be able to sit down and really talk, without the stress of a major musical competition a living thing eating away at both of them.
Maybe they could fix things.
After Unbound.
July bled into August, and Trey’s life became a whirlwind of practicing, working, and sleeping. He kept up with the winners of the last few regional Unbound festivals. Many of them were easy to find online and yeah, the competition would be tough. Not for Fading Daze, necessarily, because they weren’t competing for the top prize. Only for the attention of the music professionals in the audience.
Bobby continued to ignore him outside of necessary band communication, and Trey stopped hoping for an emotional thaw there. He also couldn’t stop entertaining thoughts of Bobby dumping his ass out of the band once Unbound was over.
Talent coordinator Emily kept in touch, finalizing details of their trip to New York City. Unbound was paying for three hotel nights for all acts, but they were responsible for getting themselves to the city. The idea of a four-hour drive made Trey want to climb out of his skin.
Knowing Dominic would be at the other end of that trip made his pulse jump every time he remembered. Dominic hadn’t reached out again after Trey’s snarky response, and that was okay. They both needed to concentrate on their music.
Even so, Trey never stopped missing him. Wondering if he was okay. Curious which song they’d chosen for his violin accompaniment. And then he’d get angry all over again and shove the thoughts aside for a while.
He flopped into bed a little after two in the morning on Tuesday, hot from the walk back from Off Beat, and too wired to sleep. They left for New York early Friday morning. The showcase performers played that night. The final rounds began Saturday morning and into Sunday, with the winners announced Sunday at four o’clock. Their contract required that they attend several hours of the competition both weekend days, but that gave Fading Daze plenty of free time to explore the city.
Trey had never been to New York, and he loved the idea of seeing Manhattan. Maybe even the Statue of Liberty and the 9/11 Memorial.
His phone squeezed out the ring tone he’d assigned to Dominic, and his heart kicked. No one called at that hour unless they were drunk or had bad news. Dominic had never seemed like the type to drunk-dial someone. “Hello?”
“Hey.” The soft, fractured way Dominic said that single word sent cold terror down Trey’s spine.
“What’s going on? Are you hurt?”
“No. Linc . . . fuck.”
Oh God. “Dom, where are you?”
“Hospital.”
No, no, no. He swallowed down rising panic. “Which hospital, babe?”
“Um, the one in Lewes.”
