Chapter 3
THREE
Trey hadn’t meant to lie to Dominic. The brief flash of genuine fear when Dominic asked if that had been his first time being fucked had awoken something inside of Trey that demanded he protect his new .
. . friend. So he’d lied and said no, it wasn’t his first time.
Sure, it had hurt a little bit, but he’d expected that.
The thing he hadn’t expected was how fucking amazing it would feel.
He’d had some decent orgasms in his life. Jerking off, hand jobs from other guys. It always felt great.
Sex with Dominic had been beyond his ability to describe, even to himself. Intense. Insane. Fireworks. Perfection. Bliss. No right words for how it had felt, and how he still felt walking home. It took everything in him not to turn around for one last glimpse of Dominic’s face.
Good Christ, he was gorgeous.
The emoji text from Dominic made him laugh out loud, the sound echoing down the mostly quiet side street.
Despite it being almost one in the morning, the living room lights were on in his downstairs apartment. Bobby and Danielle pounced on him the second he walked inside, both of their faces angry and intense. He froze two steps in the door.
“What did I do?” Trey asked.
“They’re in town,” Bobby said.
With Bobby and Danielle side by side, no one would ever guess they were related, much less brother and sister.
Danielle was five-four, with dark brown hair and pale skin.
Bobby was six-two, with naturally white-blond hair and the kind of complexion that tanned every summer without him even trying.
And they were quite a sight, glaring at him like he’d broken their best bass guitar.
Trey waited for more, but he’d been dropped into a conversation in progress. “Who’s they?”
“XYZ.”
“Who’s that? A band? Do we not like them?”
“Yes, they’re a band,” Danielle snapped. “They’re the fucking band that stole Tyson away.”
Trey startled. “Seriously? They’re in town?”
“It gets better. Apparently Beatrice had a last-minute cancellation to play at Off Beat tomorrow, and somehow this bunch of jackasses weaseled their way into the ten o’clock spot.”
“What?” That shocked the shit out of Trey. Beatrice had been a huge supporter of Fading Daze since their first public performance, and she knew how hard losing Tyson had hit them. They only had a few weeks to find a new drummer, and meanwhile she was giving a platform to the enemy.
“Exactly.” Danielle talked with her hands, and both of them were flapping in the air like she planned to take flight. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I bet Tyson’s the only reason Beatrice said yes,” Bobby said. “Fuck loyalty to Fading Daze.”
Trey kind of wanted to argue that Beatrice was filling a ten o’clock Friday-night slot last minute, and that it had probably been business, not personal—but he wasn’t feeling generous.
He was pissed. All the happy feelings he’d carried home from his time with Dominic fled, replaced by hot anger.
If Tyson wanted to jump ship, fine. Their band would survive.
Tyson playing with his new band at Fading Daze’s origin spot was a big fat fuck-you to them.
“Dani and I were thinking about a trip to Off Beat tomorrow night,” Bobby said. “You in?”
“I’m already working so I’ll be there.” Trey wanted to see what pack of douchecanoes had snared their drummer.
“Good. We’ll get there a little early so we can find a good spot to heckle their asses.”
Bobby was talking out of his ass now. Beatrice had a very strong no-heckling policy when it came to anyone performing at the club, not just on open-mike nights. Trey wouldn’t have minded the chance to throw rotten fruit at their fucking heads, though. He still could once they were offstage.
“Speaking of Off Beat,” Danielle said, “you’ve been gone for hours.”
“Yeah.” Trey tried to dodge her, because he didn’t want to talk about Dominic.
She blocked him from the hallway and his bedroom. “So? Meet someone?”
Maybe he could give her enough to end the conversation so he could go to bed. “Yes, I met someone. Yes, I got laid. Happy?”
Bobby plugged his ears and wandered into the kitchen. He knew Trey was gay, he didn’t care, but he’d been very clear about not needing the details of his sex life. Which was fine by Trey, because he had no interest in hearing about the female fans Bobby nailed.
“How was it?” Danielle asked. “Did you top or bottom?”
Trey rolled his eyes. “You have an unhealthy obsession with my sex life.”
“Come on, it’s not like I’m going to ask for details.”
“Top or bottom isn’t a detail?”
She put her hands on her hips. Signal for stubborn waters ahead.
“Fine, I bottomed,” he said in a whisper.
“Huh.”
“Huh?”
“For some reason I figured you’d want to top for your first time.”
He shrugged. They hadn’t really discussed positions. Dominic had made it pretty clear from the start that Trey would be the one taking it up the ass, and that had been fine by him. He kind of liked how dominant Dominic was during sex. It was fucking hot as hell.
“Well, good,” Danielle said. “Now the only virgin left in the house is Lucy from the third floor.”
Lucy was a summer worker, originally from Annapolis, and as quick with a dirty joke as anyone else in the house. For a chick, she was pretty hot. “Seriously? How do you know?”
“Girls talk. She says it’s because she hasn’t found the right guy, but sometimes I get a strong lesbian-in-the-closet vibe.”
“You are demented, Dani, do you know this?”
She shrugged. “If you’d spend more time socializing and less time working, you’d see these things too.”
“I work to pay my rent, and also to write us new material. You like doing original shit that isn’t a cover just as much as I do.”
“This is true.” She kissed his cheek. “So congrats on the sex, and I’m going to bed. I have to work tomorrow, and it’s way past this girl’s bedtime.”
“Night.”
Trey went into his room and shut the door. The space was kind of a glorified closet, with enough room for a lofted twin bed, with a keyboard, stand, and writing station beneath the loft, and a cheap chest of drawers for his clothes.
As physically tired as he was, he was also kind of wound up, so he knew sleep wouldn’t happen anytime soon. He sat in front of the keyboard, plugged in his headphones, and started to play with notes.
Trey jerked awake to Rihanna, the ring tone he’d set for general callers. He’d fallen asleep at the keyboard again. His neck ached, and his face kind of hurt from being smashed against the console for hours—a lot of hours, judging from the daylight outside the room’s single window.
Dominic’s name on the screen sent a small thrill through him. “Hey, morning,” Trey said. “Morning, right?”
“Yeah, dude, still morning,” Dominic replied with a small laugh. “Did I wake you up?”
“Kind of, but that’s okay. What time is it?”
“A little after ten. I wasn’t sure when you’d be awake.”
The thoughtfulness was kind of awesome. “So what’s up?”
“Well, looks like I’ll be in town for another day. Extended vacation plans.”
“Really?” Damn, he’d sounded way too eager. “So, uh, you made any specific plans for today?”
“I haven’t. My friends are all going to the beach, since it’s not horrifically hot and the sun’s out. I said I might join them later if I didn’t get up to anything else. They’re used to me being kind of a loner.”
Trey could think of all kinds of things that he and Dominic could get up to. “You want to come over?”
“To your place?”
“Yeah. I mean, you can bring your violin, if you want, and we can play music. Both my roommates are at work, so no one’s going to care if we’re noisy.”
“Noisy, huh?” The intent in Dominic’s tone made Trey’s belly wobble. “That sounds promising.”
“You remember the street?”
“Yeah.”
Trey gave him the house number. “Apartment A, bottom floor. An hour?”
“Sounds good. Want me to bring a pizza or something for lunch?”
“Sure. Anything except green peppers. Those fuckers are the bane of my existence.”
Dominic laughed. “No green peppers. Got it. See you in an hour, Trey.”
Fastest shower and shave ever. It gave Trey plenty of time to pick up the generally messy apartment. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to impress Dominic. Maybe because he’d never invited a guy over before. Presenting a tidy house felt appropriate, especially if they were fucking at some point.
He really wanted there to be fucking.
Dominic knocked on the door around eleven thirty with his violin case, a pizza box, and a plastic bag of what looked like bottles of soda. The megawatt smile made Trey’s insides wobble.
“Wasn’t sure what you drank,” Dominic said as he handed the bag to Trey.
“Cool.” The scents of cheese and spices hit him hard, and his stomach rumbled. “What did you get?”
“Meat lovers’ special.”
Trey laughed and told Dominic to make himself at home while he grabbed paper plates and napkins. When he returned to the living room, the pizza box was on the coffee table, and Dominic was spread out over half the couch, his sleeveless tee rising up to show off his flat stomach.
“Nice place,” he said.
“It’s affordable.”
“And close to the ocean.”
“Yeah.” Trey put the plates and napkins on the box, a strange uncertainty taking over. He wasn’t usually nervous around guys, so he wasn’t sure what to say or do next. Eat? Initiate sex? Small talk?
He picked through the bag of drinks instead, choosing a root beer for himself. He usually stuck to water, but the sodas were such an unexpectedly sweet gesture, he picked one he remembered liking a lot as a kid.
“You wanna toss me the Sprite?” Dominic asked.
“Sure.” He handed it over, instead of literally tossing it, and his fingers brushed against Dominic’s. The zing was still there. A zing that made Trey want to tell Dominic all of his secrets. “I lied to you yesterday.”
Dominic’s eyebrows arched up, his eyes filling with uncertainty. “Okay. What about?”