Page 79 of Tumbling Hearts

“Um… yeah.” Ray nods, turning his head toward Gene again. “I don’t really wanna talk about it here, with everyone else around, though.”

“That’s fair.” Gene reaches into his blazer’s pocket, grabbing an Altoids tin. “You want a hit? I was thinking of having one myself.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Gene takes a joint out, stuffing the tin back in his pocket and grabbing his lighter out in the process. He lights it, takes a hit, blowing the smoke out the cracked window next to himself and handing the joint over to Ray. He takes a hit eagerly, giving it back to Gene as he exhales.

“Thanks babe,” Ray says quietly enough for no one else to hear.

“No problem.” Gene takes another hit, long and slow. “Did she… did she figure out… ‘the thing’?”

Ray pouts. “What ‘thing’, exactly?”

“Oh, um… the… the clothes.”

“Oh, no. Not that. But…” Ray shakes his head. “Though, she’s not going to want to spend time with me for a bit, that’s for sure. That’s all I want to say for now. I’ll tell you more later; I’ll go with you to your room.”

“Alright. That works.” It must be really serious, then. And if Ray is troubled, it troubles Gene, too. Especially if it has to deal with Carol. He passes the joint to Ray again, and he takes another hit. Hopefully the weed helps his nerves, as it always does for Gene.

After Ray gives it back, Gene takes his free hand and places it on Ray’s thigh. The touch makes Ray blush—such an adorable shade on his cheeks, showing despite the concealer, causing Gene to smile. He doesn’t need or expect Ray to return the touch, but he does anyway, setting his hand atop Gene’s. His heart flutters. Every now and then they hold hands like this. Even before they’d gotten more physical with each other, their bond was always reassured with holding the other’s hand.

Gene threads their fingers together. And they stay like that, feeling the other’s warmth, for the remainder of the long bus ride.

The Dusty Brooms arrive at their hotel, hiding away in the hills of Hollywood: the Chateau Marmont. It’s basically like a castle, with its large, arched windows, steepled roofs, and fancy furniture that makes Gene feel like he’s stepped back in time to the Victorian era. Their manager, Dennis, checks them all in, and then they’re free to scurry off to their rooms, dragging their suitcases with them. Gene keeps a close eye on Carol, still worried about the situation with Ray. She talks with Pat, seemingly about nothing important—it’s hard to hear when so many people are in the lobby—but he also sees Santiago approach them, chatting with the two ladies.

Standing by Gene’s side is Ray, also watching them all. Carol shrugs, turns toward Pat, and the two walk up the stairs. Gene takes that as a cue that Carol will be staying in Pat’s room for the time being. Santi turns toward Gene and Ray, giving them a smile. Wait, does Santi know something I don’t know? Gene assumes Ray will tell him once they get to the room, but maybe Santi simply senses the tension and is doing a friendly duty of protecting them. He’s good at that.

And so, Gene and Ray carry their suitcases up the stairs and find their rooms. Ray still has his own room, as it was booked here prior. Ray drops his suitcase off in there, but once that’s done and the door is locked, they head next door to Gene’s room.

Once in, they take their shoes off and Gene sets his suitcase down by the dresser and pulls his acoustic guitar off his back. This hotel is definitely much more exquisite than any others they’ve stayed in—potted plants along the walls, sleek furniture, and tall windows curtained by flowery drapery. Gene shuts the door behind them, locking it, finally giving them the privacy they need.

“You locked it?” Ray asks.

“Yup.” Gene nods. “The suspense is killin’ me. Can you tell me now what happened earlier?”

Ray looks to the side and rubs his elbow, clenching the fabric of his shirt. “Y-yeah, I suppose I should.”

“Did something really bad happen?” Gene steps closer, caressing Ray’s shoulder. That gets him to look up—their gazes meeting easily as they’re both the same height.

“Yeah,” Ray says, a pain-crease forming between his brows. “So, Carol thinks someone from her gig stole her lingerie instead of me. But…”

“But?”

“I didn’t sleep in my room, y’know, and she noticed the bed was still made. She got suspicious because of that, and the fact I was wearing a scarf…” His mouth twitches, his breaths coming in shorter. “Gene, she pulled the scarf off me and saw the hickey. I couldn’t cover it well enough with the make-up.”

Gene’s eyes widen with shock. He pulls his hand off Ray, his heart rate ramping up. “She saw it? But, I mean, how…”

“She knows it was with you, Gene. I said I stayed in your room, and she put two and two together. So I just admitted it.”

Now Gene’s own breath comes out heavier. He shakes his head from side to side slowly, taking one step backwards. A lump rises in his throat.

“Oh my god, so she knows about us?!” Gene forms fists at his sides.

“Yes, Gene, but please!” Ray reaches a hand out, touching Gene’s upper arm. “She’s not going to tell anyone else. She promised me!”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes!” Ray clenches tighter onto Gene’s arm, sounding desperate. “I was so worried, but she won’t tell anyone because it could hurt the band as a whole. She knows that.”