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“What it is, is perfect,” James replied, deftly removing it from the wood. He blew on it twice before popping it in his mouth, grunting and making pained, half-choked off howling sounds when it burned his tongue. That gave birth to a whole new round of giggles and snorts, then Dez started playingRunaway Trainand instead of singing along, Tripp listened as Winter sang it.
It made him think of those images.
Of the tears oozing down Winter’s face as he’d walked into the water.
It made him wonder about the x-shaped scar over Winter’s heart and how his twin would be leaving in just a few weeks to join Wild Child. Tripp would be faced with something he’d never endured before. A prolonged separation from his twin.
It dawned on him then what Tavis would be facing, with him and Winter being in two separate bands, in two vastly different parts of the country. It was exactly what he’d be facing when the time came to say goodbye to Zakk.
Which he didn’t want to do.
Not anytime soon.
Not ever.
There was that voice again, only rather than chastising him, it was treating him to a dose of reality that he could get behind. But the only way that could happen was if they organized the tour that had been proposed for them.
It could work now, couldn’t it?
Wild Child no longer had to worry about a bass player. Tattered Angel seemed like they were jelling this time, and he was working on not picking at Winter to the point where his twin no longer wanted to be around him anymore.
He wasn’t prepared for the sensation of falling forward. One moment he was resting on Zakk, the next he had an arm full of the man whose lips were pressed just behind his ear.
“Stop thinking.”
Snorting, Tripp hugged him close. “Not likely.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to come up with some way of fixing that,” Zakk murmured.
Terminally self-conscious he glanced around to see if anyone was watching them as Zakk crawled into his lap, straddling him, but everyone was occupied with the music, the laughter, and the partner he held in his arms. Except James, who was busy char-broiling another marshmallow. Maybe someday they’d run into someone he’d click with. Could be he’d settle down somewhere, or maybe whoever it was would come out on the road with them.
With stunning clarity, Tripp realized that he was entering a new phase of his life, a time when it was better to have a small circle to trust and rely on, than an ocean of possibilities to seek a night of pleasure with.
“You’re still thinking way too hard.”
The words ghosted down the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine and crackles of electricity skimming through his brain.
The tip of Zakk’s tongue tickled the skin behind Tripp’s ear, and he sucked in a breath, forgetting to breathe when Zakk lazily rolled his hips.
“You should knowhardis exactly how I’m going to be if you keep that up,” Tripp murmured.
“If you’re that kinda hard, then you’re not gonna be thinking too much. The way I see it, I win. Twice.”
“How many times do I get to win, then?”
Flickering flames threw shadows across Zakk’s cheek, their wavering dance making the shadow-shapes move, giving Zakk a mystique like he was something not of this world.
“You tell me.”
“How much of a scene are we gonna make if we try and duck out of here?”
“About as much as Dez and Riley are going to make if Riley’s hands slip any lower.”
Blinking, Tripp glanced over Zakk’s shoulder to see James looming over them, three crispy marshmallows on a paper plate he held. When the hell had he moved?
It was only after James said it that Tripp turned his gaze on his brother and Dez, who was no longer playing the guitar. Despite that fact, it kept moving and it was easy to see why. Riley’s hands were under it, skin on the backs of his wrists occasionally highlighted by the flames, but Tripp was certain he knew where his fingers were.
“Damn. Surprised they haven’t taken off yet.”
