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Family. Oh fuck. His mom was going to be over the moon, but what was he leaving behind? Breathing became a real struggle, that in-out-in thing. He’d wanted this for years—the training and the transfer both, but now that it was here...
“You okay?” The LT frowned. “Something you need to tell us?”
“No.” No way could Renzo put his jumbled thoughts into something coherent, not with the LT looking all expectantly at him. “I’m cool. Just never thought I’d actually get this.”
“Well, you deserve it.” The senior chief clapped him on the arm. “I’ll have all the paperwork for you tomorrow, but we wanted to tell you today.”
“Thanks.” Renzo forced himself to smile, to end the conversation on an up note as the senior chief gave him orders for reporting to the SEAL team’s offices first thing. Then there was nothing to do but walk slowly back to the barracks, all the earlier urgency gone.
God, how in the hell was he supposed to talk to Canaan now? And what did it mean that the first person he wanted to tell was Canaan, not his family? But sharing his good news was going to be the equivalent of tossing a grenade on the best thing to ever happen to him. And fuck all if he knew how to do that.
* * *
Sunday, by some miracle, Canaan didn’t have to work, so he spent the day doing homework and laundry for himself and Grandpa. And trying not to think about the night before and the wild emotions of knowing how hard he was falling for Renzo while also worrying that Renzo wasn’t going to be able to get over Canaan’s past.
And speaking of the past, in late afternoon his phone buzzed with a call from Kelly. Which was odd because Kelly usually texted or emailed. He wasn’t a phone guy unless he was doing business for the band.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” Canaan kept folding the white load while answering.
“Was just thinking about you. You all rested up from your big adventure?”
“That was almost a month ago. Yeah, I’m good.” It was strange to think how much had happened since then, how his life really could be divided into before and after those hours on the ledge. “How’s the western tour going?”
“Well, that’s what I’m calling about. I need a favor.” Kelly’s voice went from too-cheery to vaguely uncertain and Canaan leaned against the laundry room counter, waiting.
“Hit me.”
“As I’m sure you heard, Eric’s out with two broken arms from his fall. He’s in physical therapy now, but it could be a few weeks to months more before he’s ready. Our replacement drummer just picked up a permanent spot with a Vegas show that works better for him. He played for our Vegas gig last night, but he’s out after that. We’re playing some California venues next, and I’m scrambling.”
“That sucks.” Breathing deep, Canaan tried to quiet the sudden roiling in his gut. He could guess where Kelly was going with this. “But I can’t—”
“Just hear me out, okay?”
“I’m listening.” Canaan’s stomach was staging an all-out rebellion now.
“I know you and Damian have a history. And he was a dick to you on the trip.”
“We do and he was and I’m not sure I want to deal with him. Even for a single show.” Anger allowed Canaan to get control over his stomach, back off from the need to puke.
“What if I told you he was out?”
“Damian’s out? Because of his injuries?” Clenching a ball of socks, he dug his hip into the corner of the counter.
“No. It was going okay with him playing on a stool. He’s out because he’s an ass. More or less chased the other drummer off. Keeps pissing Cindy and Jules off. And when we mentioned bringing you back for a few shows, he threw a shit fit. Huge argument with everyone. So he’s out and now I’m down a guitarist and a drummer with a series of shows already booked.”
“That bites. Who are you going to replace Damian with?”
“Jules knows a chick who was on one of the music reality shows. She was eliminated in an early round, but she can really rock. Knows most of our stuff apparently. We’re scheduled to jam with her tonight. I’ll drum for that, but dude, I’m not good enough to drum for a whole show.”
“You’re not that bad. Just need more stamina.” Forget his stomach, Canaan’s mind was racing, so many conflicting emotions. He’d wanted to be welcomed back for years. But in the meantime, he’d moved on, built a whole different life path for himself. New friends. New ambition. New relationship.
That last one was what really gave him pause. What would Renzo think if he took up with the band again? It would take him away from what precious little time they had together. Not to mention what it could do to his schooling. Funny how time did weird things when you were hanging out with someone you really...liked.
