Chapter Seven
BAX
Lights flash patterns from the stage, bouncing around the partygoers, reflecting off sequined dresses, shiny party hats and headbands, and the massive disco ball hanging in the room’s center.
The beat of the bass vibrates through my chest and thumps through the air like a heartbeat.
As they have all night, people dance and cheer and sing along to the acts on stage, high on celebration and anticipation.
From our spot on the raised section of the bar, Tyler, Soren, and I have a good view of the entire space.
My guys are dressed similarly in jeans and button-downs, with Soren in shades of black and gray and Tyler in softer blue.
They both eye me like my T-shirt and jeans are something special, and since my band stepped off the stage half an hour ago, I’ve been riding the high that comes with performing and being in their presence.
The lights cast a pink hue over Soren’s blond hair. He passes fresh beers to Tyler and me. “To new beginnings and fresh starts.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I tip my bottle against theirs and take a sip.
Playing tonight and sharing the stage with so many of the bands we’ve become friends with over the years has been a blast. And getting to ring in the new year with Soren and Tyler fills me with a happiness and rightness I can’t put into words.
But I can’t enjoy it like I want to because of the problem that is Layne.
He flits like a firefly from group to group, dancing with friends and strangers, downing drinks, kissing like he’s going for a medal in racking up the most partners of the night. And repeat, and repeat, and repeat.
On the edge of the dance floor, Gavin and Everett are locked in an embrace, swaying off-rhythm, gazing into each other’s eyes.
For years, their friendship has extended to friends with benefits, and since we came off the stage, it’s clear they plan on ringing in the new year together in their own world.
Which means I’m on my own watching out for Layne.
And because I’m doing that, I fear I’ve been poor company for my dates. Beneath the table, I stretch my legs until I’m touching theirs and I give them a smile and my full attention. “Where are your housemates tonight? I thought for sure that Sage would be here listening to all the bands.”
Tyler leans in, brushing his thumb under my eye, then holds it up to show the eyelash he captured. “He would’ve been, but the Metros had a game in San Jose tonight. Phil and Gio said to wish you a good show. They’re taking advantage of having an empty house.”
“I’m glad your game ended early enough for you to be here. I was worried I wouldn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight.” I shoot them a playful pout, the fire in their eyes scorching me.
Soren shifts in his seat, pressing his chest into my shoulder and his mouth to my ear. “Nothing would’ve kept us away from that.”
“Ending the year with a win would’ve been nice.” Tyler picks at the label on his beer bottle, peeling the corner until it rips. “Pavel’s taking the loss hard. He blames himself for that last goal slipping under his pad.”
“The same thing’s happened to me,” Soren shrugs. “Like I told him, it sucks, but you have to let it go.”
Taking a pull of my beer, I scan the dance floor.
Layne’s kissing yet another guy. “Yeah, you need to have a short memory on things like that. I hate when I mess up the rhythm or sing the wrong lyrics during a show. You gotta roll with it and just keep going. I messed up tonight when I saw you walk in… But look at you two, who could blame me?”
Tyler lays his hand atop mine. “We wouldn’t have missed being here. I love watching you on stage. The way you lose yourself in the music.”
“It’s hot.” Soren nips at my earlobe, unleashing a torrent of tingles down my spine and landing in my half-hard cock. “And you’re insanely talented. One of the best.”
I adjust myself, bumping Tyler’s hand, skimming the denim of my thigh, which does not help the situation in my pants. “I’ll take the compliment, but you might be wearing rose-colored glasses.”
“If it’s something I’m hearing, wouldn’t that make it rose-colored headphones?” He tilts his head to the side as he considers the question. The flashing lights shift his hair from pink to blue to green.
Laughing, I snag hold of his hand, and twist my other hand so I’m holding Tyler’s too. “I guess you’re right."
I’m happy they’re here tonight. They’re heading out in a couple of days for a week-long road trip, so I wanted to spend as much time as I can with them before they leave.
With my work schedule and gigs, and their games and practices, it’ll be close to two weeks before we’ll see each other again.
It feels too long to be without them. Already, my arms ache to hold them, and I miss the good feelings that come with being in their presence.
It’s unbelievable how quickly they’ve become such an important part of my life.
In the span of nearly a month, I’ve gone from that sexy dance floor encounter I’d assumed was a one-off to daily texts and seeing them whenever our schedules allow.
They’re the ones I want to share my day with.
Whether it’s telling them about the little girl in the kindergarten class who came in last week and asked if all the things in the museum come alive at night.
Or the coworker who stinks up the break room by microwaving fish for lunch.
Or how the closer we get to Winter Fest, the more nervous I get.
Tyler and Soren are the first people I want to talk to.
Layne climbs onto the stage, snagging my attention. The singer of the band playing is someone we’ve known for years. He sways on unsteady legs, but she welcomes him to share her mic, and they belt out a cover of an eighties pop hit.
Tyler squeezes my hand. “You okay? You keep looking at Layne.”
“He’s always been all over the place, but this…
” I jerk my chin toward the stage. “The way he’s acting tonight isn’t characteristic.
He hasn’t been himself in weeks, but refuses to talk about why.
I’m worried.” And I’m tired of feeling pulled in two directions.
I want to enjoy the limited time I have with my boyfriends, trading stories, discovering secrets, creating memories.
Instead, my attention is split, half on them and half on watching my best friend self-destruct.
Layne hops off the stage with a wobble and into a group dancing in front of it. He accepts a shot from someone, downs it, and wraps himself around the guy dancing beside him. They kiss until another song begins, then Layne is off again, bouncing to another group and downing another drink.
Anger, annoyance, and worry pulse bright. With a squeeze to both their hands, I push back my chair. “I need to check on him.”
I push through the crowd, nodding at friends, until I reach Layne, and catch hold of his shirttail as he sets his empty glass on the closest table. “Hey. What’s going on with you?”
His eyeliner, dark and smudged, makes his pale eyes pop, but can’t hide the shadows of sadness there. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” I drape my arm along his shoulders, partly to keep him from drifting off and partly to let him know I care. “Please talk to me. You aren’t yourself tonight. You haven’t really been yourself since I learned about the mystery person behind that song.”
He winces, lifts his empty cup to his lips and tips it back, catching the lone drop that rolls down the glass. “I don’t want to talk. It’s New Year’s Eve. I want to drink and dance.”
“This isn’t like you.” I motion to the crowded dance floor. “Kissing a ton of people. I don’t want you doing anything you’ll wake up tomorrow regretting.”
He shoves my arm off of him, and spins so we’re face to face.
And his face is pissed. His hands on his hips and the jut of his chin would be intimidating if his gold lamé shirt wasn’t unbuttoned to his navel, making him look like he’s going to a disco.
“So you get to have two people to kiss, and I can’t have any? ”
Rough spikes of irritation scrape through me. I grit my teeth. “I didn’t say that. And you know it. Come on, Layne. You’re acting erratic, drinking too much, making out like there’s a prize for it. I’m worried you’ll end up in a situation you don’t want to be in.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Ha.” My laugh barks out fast and loud. “Do you?”
On the dance floor, Soren and Tyler move together, their attention angled in my direction. It’s getting close to midnight. The desire to be there with them and not here, scrapes like sandpaper. “I don’t have time for this.”
“It’s not like you have much time for me anyway.” His words are quiet and full of resentment.
“What?” My head jolts back with the smack of his accusation.
Layne stumbles against me, grasping my shirt in an attempt to remain upright.
Muttering a curse, I wrap my arm around him, supporting him as I walk us over to an empty chair.
“I can’t do this with you right now. You’re not in any condition to have a conversation. ”
“I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying. Even though I know it’s not true.”
He brings his finger up to his lips. The cloud of sorrow veiling his eyes eclipses his cheeky grin. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Fuck. Layne.” How the hell can I stay angry at him? He’s hurting. I just wish he’d stop being stubborn, let me know what’s really going on, and then maybe I could find a way to fix it.
His grin falters, and he rubs his forehead. “Think I want another drink.”
“How about some water?”
He pats my chest. “Boring. Let’s dance.”
Before I can say a word, he grabs the hand of a passing guitarist whose band kicked off the show and stumbles into the crowd with him.
Pinching the bridge of my nose doesn’t alleviate the tension there. I sag into the feel of Soren’s arm around my shoulder and Tyler’s around my waist. “I can’t keep chasing him all night.”