Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Lincoln occupied himself for the next two days with QChord drills, playing their arrangement of “The Sound of Silence” until he was dreaming it, humming it under his breath, and also kind of dying inside because Emmett wasn’t there to sing to him.
He missed Emmett like crazy, but he still couldn’t reconcile the lie with the man he loved.
He couldn’t get past the idea that Emmett had been with him out of some sense of duty or pity.
He’d lost his complete trust in Emmett’s word.
And that hurt more than anything else.
Thursday night he was in the middle of packing for Unbound when the doorbell rang. Roxy was at work, so he begrudgingly put a half-folded T-shirt down and answered the door.
Melody breezed in with a box of wine in one hand. “You haven’t been returning my calls, so I’m staging an intervention.”
“With wine?” he asked as he closed the door.
“And a movie. What better way to mend a broken heart than a good shiraz and a viewing of You’ve Got Mail?”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched her rustle up two clean wineglasses. “That’s not cool. You know it’s one of my favorites.”
“Yes, I do. That’s why I’m such a good friend. I listen when you talk. So talk.”
“About what?”
“What the hell’s going on with you and Emmett?” She popped the seal on the box, then dug inside for the spout. “I saw him at Off Beat last night moping around like his dog died. When I asked Van, all he said was you two were having problems, but he didn’t have details.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Honey, I’m a trans woman. I know from complicated.” She poured them each a glass of wine. “Now spill.”
Lincoln sipped the wine, enjoying the sweet, only slightly bitter flavor. “Emmett found out a month ago that during a blackout drunk, he’s the one who ran my car off the road and is responsible for my head injuries. He told me on Monday and we haven’t spoken since.”
Melody blinked hard at him several times, her perfectly brushed eyebrows arching high. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No, but I swear to God, I thought someone was fucking with me while he told me everything. It still doesn’t feel real.”
She started to drink her wine, then paused with the glass halfway to her mouth. “Hold up, you said he knew a month ago? When you two first started seeing each other?”
“Yes.”
“So if it was a blackout drunk, how’d he find out?”
Anger burned deep in his chest. He understood Adrian covering for his cousin, but that jackass had known who was responsible this entire time. “His cousin Adrian was with him in the truck when it happened. He even fucking recorded it on his phone.”
“Seriously? Wow. So if it happened a year ago, and Emmett didn’t remember anyway, why the hell bring it up now?”
“Because we met, I guess.” He took a long, hard drink from his glass.
He wasn’t driving to Unbound tomorrow, so he didn’t care if he woke up with a sour stomach from too much wine.
“Adrian was an asshole to me at first, and when Emmett confronted him, Adrian confessed. And then Emmett kept it a secret.”
Melody topped off his glass. “Do you think he was protecting his cousin?”
“Sure he was. Emmett says he was protecting me, too. And I guess he was, in a way, but how can I trust that what we had is real?”
“Do you miss him?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you feel like part of you is missing because he isn’t here?”
“Yes.”
“Then it was real. Trust me, honey, maybe you and me have known each other about as long as you and Emmett, but I watched you change from a grumpy, self-loathing recluse to a joyful, in-love bar back who can make music again. You’re happy with Emmett.
You light up when he walks into the room.
I’ve seen it. Do you want to lose that over an accident Emmett didn’t even know he caused, and that he only knew about for a month? ”
“That’s the kicker, though, right?” He tapped the rim of his wineglass against Melody’s. “He knew a month ago, he didn’t tell me, so I didn’t have all the facts before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I gave him my fucking heart.”
Melody curled an arm around his waist, and Lincoln leaned into the supportive embrace. “Guess the question is do you want him to keep that heart, or do you want it back.”
He kept that question close as they took the party into the living room to watch their movie. Even if he decided he wanted his heart back, it would be returned broken in two. And Lincoln didn’t know if those two pieces would ever mend correctly.
He didn’t know if he’d survive losing Emmett.
A combination of fists and the doorbell roused Lincoln out of a sound, dreamless sleep.
His neck hurt, and he figured out why pretty fast. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, instead of his bed.
He didn’t remember much of his night after Meg Ryan closed down her little bookstore and the memory of dancing with her mother made Lincoln cry.
He vaguely recalled Melody saying something about crashing in his room.
Wine tended to make him very loose-limbed, so he’d probably been too limp to drag along to bed with her.
The ruckus at the door continued, so he slithered to his feet with a groan. His head felt too heavy, his tongue really fuzzy, but he had no sense of impending vomit, so that was a plus. He unlocked and yanked open the door. “What?”
“What yourself, asshole,” Dominic said with a whoop. “It’s Unbound day! Get your ass in gear.”
After a long, hard hug that made him second-guess the vomiting thing, he glanced out the door to where last year’s tricked-out camper was idling at the curb. “What time is it?”
“Ten o’clock, exactly when I told you we’d pick you up. You look like hell, man. Still no resolution with Emmett?”
Lincoln shook his head. “I need to think about the performance today, not my love life.”
“Message received. Go take a fucking shower, you reek. I’ll finish packing your shit.”
“There’s a girl in my bed.”
“How drunk did you get last night?”
He flipped Dominic off, then shut himself in the bathroom to get ready for the biggest day of his post-accident life.
They finally hit the road around ten thirty.
Andy’s camper could comfortably fit four people—five if three wanted to squeeze in together on the king-size bed at one end, plus the two single bunk beds at the other.
Since there were seven of them going, Benji had last year’s tent in the back of his van.
Actual sleeping arrangements hadn’t been decided yet, but at least they’d all have a private shower and toilet at the massive fairgrounds.
Taking a dump in a public restroom with minimal air-conditioning while dozens of people came and went was definitely Lincoln’s least fun memory from last year. Right up there with spending most nights listening to Benji and Joshua have sex as quietly as possible.
Joshua wasn’t with them this year, and at first Lincoln had assumed that was why Benji was asleep on the top camper bunk when Lincoln walked in with Dominic.
“He woke up with a sore throat,” Dominic said.
“Shit, are you serious?”
“As cancer.” They made their way down to the small couch, where they settled for the ride.
Trey and Danielle were sitting at the dinette with a tablet, doing who knew what on it.
“Is he going to be okay to sing tonight?” Lincoln asked.
“Hope so.” Dominic kicked off his flip-flops and tucked one leg beneath him. “He’s been guzzling ginger tea, sucking on throat lozenges, and avoiding talking all morning. I mean, if worst came to worst, Dani could always fill in and sing.”
“Seriously? Andy on percussion is bad enough.”
“Hey!” Danielle squawked in defense of her boyfriend.
Lincoln waved his hand at her. “I just meant XYZ was known for being an all-queer band, and Andy is straight. Adding a chick to the mix makes it worse. Even farther away from what we were last year.”
“If it gives him any cred with you, Andy told me he let a guy blow him in a bathroom once.”
“He did?” Trey asked.
Danielle smirked at him. “Not as vanilla as you thought, huh, Coop?”
Andy was six foot three, with the muscle-bound build and tattoos of a guy better suited for a heavy metal band than a cover rock group who occasionally performed original music. Lincoln didn’t know him well, but he was pretty sure “vanilla” was nowhere on the guy’s résumé.
“Let’s not go worst-case-scenario yet,” Dominic said. “We don’t go on until eight. Benji has plenty of time to rest his voice and be ready. It’s one song.”
Lincoln lowered his voice. “Speaking of Benji, what’s going on with him and Joshua?”
Dominic sighed. “Same argument as always. Benji wants to close their relationship, be exclusive, but neither one of them wants to stop traveling so much. Joshua doesn’t want to give up his job to be a kept wife, waiting for his man to come home from his latest gig, and Benji won’t give up Fading Daze. ”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Think they’ll work it out?”
“I hope so, man. They’ve been together a long time.” Dominic gave him an assessing look that made Lincoln squirm. “Then again, sometimes you can be with someone for only a little while and know you want them for always.”
I want Emmett.
“I don’t want to talk about that today,” Lincoln said. “Happy things only. Tell me about your last gig, or something. Funny stories.”
Trey eagerly launched into a tale of visiting a gay club during a stint in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, two weeks ago, where a good friend of the owners’ son was given a thoroughly embarrassing birthday celebration. The story included drag queens, ass-less chaps, and cowboy hats.
By the end of the story, all four of them were rolling with laughter. Even Benji had turned over to listen to their antics. Lincoln soaked in the fun and joy of his friends, glad to be around them again, while still keenly aware that something was missing.
Someone was missing.