Chapter 23
The shows on this tour just keep getting better and better—and bigger.
After playing in Louisville, Fort Worth, and now Phoenix, Ray’s adrenaline has been pumping like mad.
The Dusty Brooms have just finished another wonderful performance at the Arizona Veterans Memorial Coliseum—an absolutely wild experience, surrounded by thousands of fans on all sides: in front of them, up the sides in the stands, and even behind the band.
Ray had to walk around the entire stage just to sing to everyone, circling around Pat and Nicky, thankfully having a wireless microphone this time.
They’re really all here just to see us. Every single one of them knows who we are. We’ve really fucking made it!
Carol lounges in a chair next to Ray’s, showing off her gorgeous figure in her bikini.
Though while he feels like he should be paying attention to her, ogling her, his gaze is pulled elsewhere.
Ray is mesmerized as he watches Gene rise out of the water, dragging himself onto the concrete, droplets trailing down his hairy chest in thin lines.
Moonlight glistens off his skin as he stands up, grabbing a nearby towel.
Ray can’t help but gaze at his best friend like he’s Michaelangelo’s David.
His mouth waters, heart thudding, and he crosses his legs in a poor attempt to hide his thickening cock.
Shaking his head, Ray licks his lips and tries to think logically.
What the hell is he doing, getting riled up by Gene when his girlfriend is right there?
Well, it’s not a crime to simply have thoughts.
It would be different if he acted upon them.
And it’s not like Carol can tell why he got hard if she were to notice—that’s easy to lie about.
He turns to look at her instead. It appears like her head is in the clouds, not looking at anyone specific, not even Ray.
Is she even sober? Truth be told, it’s not like he keeps an eye on her twenty-four-seven, god no, but if she were already drinking, he’d probably know about it. Probably.
Gene starts walking toward them. Oh man. Ray’s gaze is locked on him again, becoming clearer as he steps closer, honing in on all of his beauty: his ruggedly handsome face, his slender torso, his long, lean legs. Ray’s face starts to heat up, as though on instinct.
Before Gene can say anything, though, Santiago walks up to him, in his swimming bottoms as well, stopping him in his tracks. “Hey Gene! Did you wanna check out the cocktail lounge here?”
Gene smiles. “I was actually just about to ask Ray that same thing.” He makes eye contact with Ray. “So? How ’bout it?”
“Oh, uh, sure!” Ray chuckles. “We could all go together.”
“Me too, I hope,” Carol says, sitting up straight.
“Of course, babe. When I say ‘we all’, you should know I mean you, too.” He reaches over to her seat and rests his hand on hers.
“I was just checking if you were paying attention.” She smirks. “You passed.”
“I didn’t realize I was being quizzed.” Ray laughs, but he thinks a little harder on that.
Has she noticed something off about me? It’s impossible for her to know about how he and Gene had kissed without him coming forth and telling her outright.
Which, of course he hasn’t done. But maybe he has been acting a little different lately, enough for her to notice, albeit him not really meaning to.
“I’ve got a question for you, too,” Gene says. “What’s my favorite drink? If you get it wrong, you’re paying.”
Ray laughs even more. “That ain’t even hard—it’s a whiskey sour. And I’m sorry, but that’s a stupid condition; nobody’s paying anything on this tour, that’s all on RCA.”
“Aw man, fuck you, Ray,” Gene says playfully, laughing as well. “I thought it’d be funny.”
“It is, though!” Ray chuckles even more for emphasis.
“Anyway!” Santiago butts in, waving a hand. “Since none of us have to pay anyway, let’s all go get some drinks, shall we?”
Inside the motel, Ray and the others are sitting in the dimly lit cocktail lounge.
Half-full cups of liquor and dusty, marble-painted ashtrays litter the low table in-between two long couches.
Ray is on one with Carol at his side, while Gene sits on the other couch across from him.
Santiago sits next to Gene, a cigarette in his hand.
Starlight glitters through the windows, creating a hazy halo around the tall palm trees surrounding the building.
“Being here is so neat,” Santiago says. “The bartender actually took my order in Espanol, man. That’s never happened to me—the only people I speak Spanish to are my family.”
“Sometimes I forget you can speak it, since you never do with us,” Gene says, taking a sip of his drink.
“Ah! ?Eso es porque ustedes, carnales, solo hablan Inglés!” Santiago replies.
“I think I understood… maybe a word or two of that.” Gene laughs.
Ray laughs too, gazing at Gene, sitting directly in his line of sight.
They went straight from the pool to here, not bothering to change, all still in their swimsuits with towels hanging over their shoulders.
All the better for Ray to continue staring at Gene’s sexy body.
Oh, how he wishes he could touch him, run his fingers over his muscles, down the lines of his abdomen, feeling every inch of him.
They continue chatting about everything and nothing, how wonderful the tour shows have been, and how excited they are to continue traveling, especially to California.
Carol scooches closer to Ray and pets his arm.
Her touch, while it should feel soothing, stirs an uncomfortable twist in his gut.
Sure, on the surface nothing seems to be wrong—and Carol hasn’t said anything amiss—but something still feels like it’s eating him from the inside.
A strange feeling, a desire that’s been building—
A thirst for Gene that he can’t seem to quench.
A thirst he shouldn’t even have to begin with.
He wonders if Gene feels the same, as he looks at him from across the low table, his hazel eyes shimmering as he gazes back at Ray.
Gene was the one who initiated that kiss in the first place.
He also started calling Ray ‘baby’ sometimes, when no one else is around to hear.
Every time they sing into the same mic, every time they brush hands, every time they hold each other close sends a spark through Ray’s body like no other.
There must be something, and not just ‘fooling around’. It’s been driving him crazy.
But is it something we should even bother entertaining?
Why can’t I simply forget about it?
Carol makes him feel great, too. She’s never done anything wrong, and is always a delight to be around. She’s honestly the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. What the hell is he thinking? Gene? Really?
Santiago goes back up to the bar, grabbing another drink for himself and Gene while Ray still nurses his first. Gene seems to be downing his drinks rather fast, much faster than the rest of them, already done with his second not long after Santi sits down.
“Wow, man,” Santi says to Gene. “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling fiiiine,” Gene says, a smile on his face. “Could you get me another?”
“Another? Damn, I just sat down!”
“I can get you another, if you want. I kinda want another one too,” Ray says.
“I’m not sure if you should really be grabbing him more, if he’s drinking too quickly,” Carol says.
“I know Gene. He can stomach a lot more than this before he’s even close to throwing up.” Ray smirks. “You’ve only had, what? Two?”
“Yeah.” Gene nods. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
Ray stands up and walks to the bar, grabbing two whiskey sours: one for Gene, and one for himself.
When he returns, he hands Gene’s to him—fingers brushing as the glass passes from one person to the other.
Even the simplest of touches makes his cheeks feel hotter, his pulse quickening.
Such a thing shouldn’t matter. And yet, it does.
Trying to straighten out his thoughts—which is pretty damn hard when you’re starting to feel tipsy—Ray sits back down next to Carol.
She’s only had one drink so far, but she also hasn’t asked for more.
Then again, she doesn’t seem to drink as much as himself or Gene overall, anyway.
She resumes her spot up against Ray’s side, groping his upper arm.
“I’m goin’ for it…” Gene says as he holds his glass and—in an instant—he gulps down half the drink.
“Woah, man,” Santi says before putting his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Maybe you should slow down. Did anything happen—something I don’t know about, where you wanna drown your sorrows kinda shit?”
“What the hell? Nah man, I just wanna have a good time!” Gene giggles, and then he hiccups.
“You did some coke with Nicky before the show, didn’t you?” Santi asks, not in a rude way, but more sounding curious.
“Yeah.” Gene shrugs. “But it was only a little bit, and that was hours ago. I’m doing alright.” And just like that, Gene downs the rest of his drink.
“Don’t overdo it, though,” Ray suggests. He doesn’t think Gene will, but better safe than sorry.
“Relax, man.” Gene grins, keeping his eyes on Ray.
And so, they do relax for a while, chatting more about how life has been on tour, Ray and Gene stealing glances at each other any second they can.
Ray believes most of their crew is still outside at the pool, but some people have likely retreated to their rooms—Pat being one of them; he doesn’t remember seeing her outside at all.
But Pat is rather reserved and introverted in general, not the type to party or spend lots of time being social.
He can respect that. The Brooms encounter so many people constantly talking and conversing at every show, every venue, every get-together, that it probably could be overwhelming depending on your personality.
Ray knows Gene can be that way sometimes as well, valuing his precious alone time.