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“Me, but I’m not staying. I saw the fire and hoped you were James, or Damien or…”
“Anyone that wasn’t me.”
“Pretty much,” Dez remarked, stepping out of the shadows.
They hadn’t spoken since the bombshell Tripp had dropped when they were in the pool. Zakk hadn’t been inclined to tell him anything about Tattered Angel’s meeting either, except to say they’d squashed their issues and would be going on to plan their Rocketoberfest set. It had been a relief to hear, knowing how Zakk felt about Dez, though the man still looked broody and a bit lost.
“Look, it was never my intention to cause an issue between you and your band,” Tripp offered. “Was just trying to look out for a friend.”
“I know.”
“Are we good?”
“Do you want to be?”
Immediately, Tripp was on the defensive, bristling and wondering what the fuck Dez meant by that. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You tell me.”
Blowing out a breath, Tripp looked across the fire to see the flames glowing in those bright green eyes. “Look, I’m working on not being a jealous asshole, but you may have to give me some leeway until I work it all out of my system.”
“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?”
“Not of you, but of the time you spend with Zakk.”
He’d expected to be told to mind his own business. At the very least, he’d figured on being called possessive or selfish. What he hadn’t expected was Dez to take a seat across from him and get settled in.
“You been talking to Riley?” Dez asked, as he rested his head on his hand and stared into the flames.
“No, should I be?”
Dez’s low chuckle was his only response at first. Then a heavy sigh. Finally, he gathered his words and decided to share them. “He’s come over to the house a couple times, pissed that I was there instead of at home. Wondering if something was going on besides song writing. There isn’t, but I can see his point, and yours.”
Whoa. So not what he’d expected.
“Thanks.”
“I’m not used to clicking with people as fast as I clicked with Zakk. It makes the music flow easier when you’re working with someone who’s on the same wavelength, not that I have to tell you that. Winter said that your early stuff practically wrote itself. That you’d each add lines and play off each other until it was where you wanted it to be.”
It had been a long time since Tripp had given thought to those days, though it sounded like his brother had, enough to share with Dez anyway.
“Yeah, it always felt like one-part twintuition and one part shared experiences. Sometimes we’d write a song from different perspectives and meld them together. Was the best kind of songwriting. I miss it. Now, even if we’re sitting on the couch together, we’re scratching out each other’s lyrics and arguing over the way to phrase something.”
“Yeah, he said that too.”
“How did you guys get so close so fast?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean that it seems like my brother tells you and Tavis everything these days.”
“Maybe because I’m willing to sit still and listen. You should try it sometime.”
Sighing, Tripp scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I should.”
“I think he’d like that.”
“I think I’d like that too. Maybe then we could have a relationship that didn’t involve me always comparing myself to him.”
