Chapter 22
Dmitri
The entire band sleeps late the following morning.
The show left us so exhausted that not even Tai's obnoxious snoring or Theo's restless tossing and turning could keep us awake.
How such a diminutive man can make so much noise is beyond me, but everyone was too wiped out for it to matter.
Dante bunked underneath him—surprise, surprise.
Soft, golden morning sun streams through the windows as I blink my eyes open, the light filtering in along with the faint scent of coffee.
The distant murmur of voices drifts in from beyond the closed pocket door, mingled with the low hum of the bus AC and the occasional creak of bunks settling.
I shuffle like a zombie toward the bathroom.
“Good morning… or should I say afternoon?” Dante calls from the living room.
I glare without a word, eyes still half-crusted with sleep, then jerk my thumb toward the bathroom door. “Anyone in there?”
Dante shakes his head, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh.
Theo just stares, lingering a beat too long on my chest, and when I push into the bathroom and shut the door, I realize I forgot a shirt.
Normally being shirtless around the guys is nothing, but Theo’s attention makes me feel like I’m on display.
I relieve myself and brush my teeth, then splash cold water on my face.
The shock wakes me a little as droplets run down my neck and chest. When I sniff my armpits, I wrinkle my nose.
Stale sweat and yesterday’s show cling to my skin, so I take a few minutes to scrub myself clean.
Still half-asleep, I open the door and nearly collide with Eric.
He looks just as wrecked as me—hair a wild mess, eyes heavy-lidded, skin still flushed pink from his pillow. For a second, we just stand there, frozen, like we've forgotten how to interact.
“Morning,” I finally mumble, the word thick.
He grunts something unintelligible and leans into my shoulder, nuzzling against my skin.
His lips press against my collarbone, and my hand automatically snakes around his lower back to pull him closer.
A slow smile spreads across my face as I look down at him, all mussed and adorable, clinging like he never wants to let go.
I never would’ve pegged Eric as a cuddler, but he's wrapping his arms around me, soft and needy in the most heart-melting way.
A curious hum sounds from the other side of the room. Eric freezes, body going rigid against mine. He clears his throat, cheeks flaming red, and pulls away fast.
“Excuse me,” he mutters before ducking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a quiet click.
Dante is leaning against the counter with a toothy, shit-eating grin that says he knows exactly what just happened.
He ignores my glare, while Theo’s eyes are glued to the floor, pretending the carpet is fascinating.
I retreat into the sleeping cabin and change into comfortable clothes, but the smell of bacon pushes me to hurry.
I pull my shirt over my head before rushing out to find Theo cooking.
“Hell yes,” I groan as I peek at the pan. “I’m starving.”
Theo chuckles as he flips the bacon, the sizzle and pop filling the bus. “Yeah, I'm sure you worked up quite an appetite last night.”
He's talking about the show, but an image of Eric pressed against the rough bark of that tree flashes through my mind, with his skin hot and eyes wild.
Our words echoed in my head all night on an endless loop.
The demand to give me all of him and promises in the heat of the moment.
The secret goodnight kiss I pressed to his lips in the bunk.
All of it left me craving more, barely touching the insatiable need for him that’s been burning low in my gut since we parted.
As if my thoughts have conjured him, Eric emerges from the bathroom in basketball shorts and a band shirt.
He disappears into the sleeping quarters to put his things away, then wanders to my side.
We don't say a word as we collapse onto the couch, and the mere foot of space between us is far too much for my liking.
Would he be mad if I pulled him into my lap? Probably.
Would it be worth it? Probab—
“Have you guys checked out any of the reviews yet?” Dante asks from his seat at the table, pulling me from my thoughts.
“The only thing I’ve reviewed today is Tai’s snoring,” I joke. “Zero out of ten, do not recommend.”
Everyone chuckles as Tai slides open the door. “I do not snore,” he argues, and we laugh harder.
Dude sounds like a freight train.
“Anyway,” Dante says, drawing our attention back to him, “listen to this. ‘Falling Absent starts their tour with a top-tier performance that no one saw coming. Vocalist Eric Woodard has always held the audience in the palm of his hand, with his growling, passionate voice pulling emotions from his music like few others can.’”
I reach over and grip Eric's arm, giving him a shake as he grins down at his lap.
Dante cracks a smile before he continues.
“A new drummer in their line-up, newcomer Dmitri ‘Sticks’ Belikov, joins guitarist Dante Barrera, bassist Theo Wheeler, and keyboardist Tai Hiyama, creating a powerful dynamic in the band that we haven’t seen from them before now.
In the wake of last night’s explosive show, tickets are vanishing in record time and social media is erupting with chatter.
Hashtags #FallingAbsent #FaceOfAnAngelVoiceOfADevil #SticksGotTricks are leading the pack this morning, with concertgoers sharing pictures and videos that are spreading like wildfire. ”
All five of us have goofy grins on our faces—even Dante—as he finishes reading the review aloud.
Tai and Eric both have their phones out, scrolling fast and reading the posts they find out loud to the group.
“Here you go, Eric,” Tai calls from the other couch, flashing his phone toward us to show a picture of Eric mid-song, eyes closed and knuckles bleached white around the mic. “The caption says, ‘Eric Woodard can have all my babies.’ Over two hundred likes already.”
A quiet scoff that borders a growl leaves my throat.
Eric only rolls his eyes, cheeks pink, as he continues to scroll. “Oh, here’s a good one! It’s a fuzzy, zoomed-in shot of Theo with the hashtag #ShortKingPower.”
Theo shakes his head good-naturedly, dishing out our food while everyone keeps joking and scouring the internet for more feedback. It’s like a drug, permeating the air around us. We grin and laugh at the stupidest things, the high from the show still buzzing under our skin.
“Check this out,” Eric says over a bite of eggs, turning his phone sideways and zooming in. “Shit looks professional.”
It’s a panoramic shot of the band, all of us mostly in focus. My hands are little blurs in the background, Dante’s mid-headbang, but Eric?
He’s the center of the universe.
The mic is gripped tight in his fist, free hand curling as he lifts it toward the ceiling with his head tilted back. Sweat pours down his neck and chest, catching the stage lights like liquid gold.
I scoot closer and use two fingers to zoom in on him, not thinking as I blurt out, “Goddamn, that is fucking sexy.”
The words hang in the air as I realize what I've said. Eric grins at me, then looks back at his phone, oblivious to the spectacle we’ve become.
Why am I so bad at this? I’m all heart-eyed and unable to hide my crush as I gush about how cute he is.
Thankfully, no one says a word until Dante announces it’s time to hit the road again.
I volunteer to clean up, not just to balance the workload since I won’t be cooking, but also to occupy myself.
It’s a necessary distraction to help me keep my hands to myself, even if I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
The next night’s show in Savannah is equally amazing, the crowd louder and the stadium fuller. We spend the hours on the bus reading more reviews and social media posts, sharing pictures and new hashtags.
The drive to Tallahassee is uneventful, just over four hours, even with the lunch rush of traffic we find ourselves in. By the time we’re parked and set up, it’s early afternoon and we have the entire rest of the day to relax.
“Okay, I had an idea,” Theo calls out after Dante joins us in the living room. “Who brought swimsuits?” Everyone stays silent, and Theo chuckles. “Yeah, me neither. That’ll have to be our first stop.”
“And what’s stop two?” Eric asks, reclining with his arms behind his head. His pecs pop, while his nipples and those delicious barbells push against his shirt. He catches me staring and smirks as he stretches his spine.
“Would you guys agree to go if I said it’s a surprise?” Theo asks.
“No!” The four of us say in unison.
Theo’s face slacks in shock. “Unreal. Ungrateful miscreants,” he grumbles. “Alright, you fun-sucking assholes. I’ll tell you. Go ahead and ruin my masterpiece of a surprise.”
Theo takes the time to glare at us each individually as we laugh, but when Dante waves for him to continue, he perks back up.
“On the drive here, I was searching for some fun things to do while we have a free day. The weather is perfect, so I thought one of those boat tours would be fun. We have to stop somewhere and get swimsuits first, though. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Tai parrots with a grin.
I open my mouth to argue, then pause to consider the idea. “You know what? That sounds pretty chill. I'm down.”
“Great!” Theo claps his hands and gestures at the others. “Sticks and I will call an Uber and head to the boat while you guys hold down the fort. We’ll be back later. Don’t wait up for us!”
He's goading Eric, who falls right into the trap. His cheeks flush tomato red as he leans closer to me, fingers fisting my shirt in a desperate little tug.
A wide grin stretches across Theo’s face, pearly whites flashing bright and mischievous. In his own unique way, this is him acknowledging our relationship, even if Eric and I haven’t shared details with the band yet.
“What’s wrong, Eric?” Theo teases, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees with feigned innocence.
Eric turns toward me with a quiet laugh, resting his forehead on my arm like he could hide from the attention. He rolls his head to glare up at me, but I only smile back.
“Right then.” Dante slaps his palms onto his thighs with a crack. “Now that… that… is settled,” he says as he gestures between me and Eric with a vague wave, “how are we getting there?”
“Already lined up a driver,” Theo says, still grinning at Eric’s beet-red face. “We’ll make a quick trip to the store beforehand.”
“Do we need to reserve a boat?” I ask. Eric is curled against me, so I take advantage of it by snaking my hand around him. I trace patterns on his back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breath.
Theo shakes his head, waving his phone in the air. “Took care of it.”
“Well, look who’s running the show today,” I say with a grin, then glance at Dante. “If you’re not careful, Theo’s going to take your job, big man.”
Dante rolls his eyes before glancing at Theo with obvious affection. “Doubt that.”
Theo stands and plants his hands on his narrow hips. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Barrera? I might be small, but that doesn't mean I can’t dominate your ass.”
Dante flushes as red as Eric had been moments ago. Theo winks and turns to walk away, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. “And trust me, baby, you’d like it.”
Dante looks like he might spontaneously combust as I stand, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. I lean in and mumble low in his ear, “You wanted his attention, buddy… it would seem you’ve got it.”