Syncopation

by Anna Zabo

  Dom chuckled, then sobered. “Ray applied to Juilliard, you know.”

  Zavier choked on his coffee. “He what?” The words shot through him, like an unexpected clap of thunder.

  The reply came softer. “He did. But with his GPA...” Dom shrugged. “And he had no formal musical training. Besides, even if he’d somehow gotten in, he’d never have been able to afford it.”

  That was something to chew on. He’d never paid attention to Ray’s financial situation back then. Didn’t know it now. “His family couldn’t have helped?”

  Dom shook his head. “I mean, they did okay, but he’s the youngest of five, and his parents were taking care of his grandmother who had Alzheimer’s, and between all of that...”

  Yeah, tuition to an expensive music school would be the last thing on anyone’s list. “So he never went to college?”

  “Oh, he did. Got an associate’s from the local community college. Took some voice and music lessons when the band started getting more gigs after we graduated. Enough so he could read music.”

  Ray hadn’t been able to read music in high school? Holy shit. Zavier leaned forward. “Are you telling me that Ray had no musical training at all as a kid?” And put together this band? Wrote those songs?

  “Just the music appreciation stuff we all got in school.”

  Which had been crap. “And they said I was a prodigy.” He shook his head.

  “You were.” Dom toyed with the remains of his meal. “But he’s really good, Zav.”

  “I know.” He’d seen it. Felt it. Played with them all.

  “This shit with Carl...” Dom sighed. “It’s killing him. He’s always been self-conscious about his lack of training and schooling. All of that. He thinks his skill is all a fluke, as if someone’s gonna realize he’s faking and take it all away.”

  And Zavier had walked in as a reminder and an example of a “true” musician. He winced. “No wonder Ray was so pissed when I showed up to audition.”

  Another expression pulled at Dom’s lips, this one much more rueful. “Yeah.” His featured smoothed out. “But here’s the thing—you treat him like an equal.”

  “He is.” Ray was astounding as a musician. As a man.

  Dom nodded again. “It makes an impression, though. I think it’s one of the reasons everything has fallen into place when we’re on stage. He doesn’t have to worry about you, and he knows you don’t worry about him. You trust him.”

  But offstage Ray was a different story, as they all found out last night. “You said he carries it all on him.”

  “Yeah.” Dom leaned back, and looked wistfully at the map. “Do you think we could walk and talk?”

  “Dude, I can play four different beats at the same time.”

  Dom’s grin made him look like even more of a twink, and it occurred to Zavier that this was a completely cultivated look, just like Domino.

  They paid and headed out toward yet another museum. Zavier fell into step next to Dom. “Thanks for inviting me along today. I hope I didn’t step on your plans to go cruising.”

  Dom’s cackle of laughter was unexpected. “Oh my god. You’re the only one who’s ever figured that out.”

  So there was a method to Dom’s madness besides being a museum freak. He couldn’t help the smile. “I lived and breathed the wine, cheese, and finger sandwich crowd for years.”

  “Mmm.” There was almost something wistful in Dom’s voice. “On the one hand, it sounds lovely. On the other, I’d probably go insane after a few weeks.”

  Zavier glanced at him. “Because rock gets into your soul?”

  A nod. “But Domino is untouchable. And I mean that literally.”

  Too intimidating. “Not if you’re into that sort of thing.” Dom’s stage persona would probably fit right into some of the dungeons he’d been to.

  “But I’m not into that sort of thing.” Dom’s voice was quiet. “Not all the time.”

  Which gave Zavier a pretty good idea what Dom wanted, and yeah, he could have filled that role. If there was any spark whatsoever between them. There wasn’t. A friendship, yes. But Dom didn’t scratch any of Zavier’s itches—and he suspected the other way around was true, too.

  “So, what? You put on the real you and scour the museum set for a hookup?”

  A wry chuckle. “Pretty much.”

  Well, how about that? “Does it work?” He had to know. He really had to.

  Dom’s smile was devilish. “All the time.”

  Zavier’s turn to laugh. “Man, if I’d known...” He hated stepping on someone’s plans.

  Dom waved his arm. “No, I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you. You were the impossible kid to befriend in high school. This has been fun.” His voice dropped a little. “And I feel better about you helping Ray out.”

  Something about the way Dom spoke made Zavier’s skin heat. He glanced over. “What?”

  There was that smile again, the one he never saw on Domino but seemed to live on Dom.

  Instinct told Zavier he wouldn’t get an answer, even when pressed, and he was pretty sure he understood what Dom was hinting at. He shrugged. “I like Ray.” Needed him as a friend. Wanted even more. The thoughts settled onto Zavier, ill-fitting and scratchy, but he pushed them aside. No time to ruminate. No space.

  “Good.” Dom rotated his map. “There’s a place up here I want to check out...”

  Turned out to be a used bookstore. Or rather, an antique-book dealer. This was a little higher than the wine-and-cheese set. Nice literature, but not really Zavier’s thing.

  He eyed Dom talking to the shop’s proprietor, a tall, broad man with dark hair and tan skin, who was practically eating Dom whole as they conversed. It was like watching a master at work. The way Dom laughed and moved and spoke—all quite real, but also quite enticing to the shop’s owner.

  Time to leave him to his conquest. Zavier coughed. “Hey. I’m gonna head back. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Dom grinned like a kid at Christmas. “All right. You know the way back?”

  Zavier rolled his eyes. “I’m quite capable of finding my way to the hotel, yes.” He pushed the door open, and headed out, leaving Dom to his prey.

  The only problem was that the walk back gave him far too much time to contemplate Ray Van Zeller and all the details he now knew.

  Zavier had been a musical prodigy. But...so had Ray. Only Zavier had been the one with money, lessons, and the asshole chip on his shoulder from being told how good he was. Ray hadn’t had any of that, and he’d climbed his way toward stardom anyway.

  Fucking hell, where would Ray be if he’d been in Zavier’s shoes? He shook his head. One thing he’d learned, both in school and outside of it, playing what-if games with the past didn’t get anyone anywhere at all.

  So the real question was how could Zavier help Ray now? He had no idea. Well, that wasn’t true—he had many, many ideas. Every single one of them heated his blood.

  Zavier sighed. Those were the ones that were out of the question, even if a little voice in the back of his head kept asking, Why not?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Their day of freedom was over and Carl was back. That smooth, fake voice grated up Ray’s spine to his skull as he stood by the tour buses. They were nearly packed—just the final check to make sure they had everything and no equipment had wandered away.

  There was a nasal quality to Carl’s voice Ray’d heard when they’d found videos of Tenacious Dreams, and now he couldn’t unhear it. Wasn’t horrible, a gray dagger across Ray’s vision, but it also wasn’t surprising that Carl ended up in management. Maybe vocal training could have fixed it, but who knew?

  When Carl strode up to him, Ray almost didn’t flinch. “You’re on time,” Carl said.

  Ray rolled his eyes. The early-morning summer sun was heating up the humid Texas air. �
�It’s a fucking Christmas miracle.” He stared back as Carl’s face darkened.

  “Well, I guess you didn’t get any action last night, huh?” Carl gestured at Mish and Zavier, who were laughing at something on Zavier’s tablet. Dom was already on the bus reading.

  Those two, together? No way. Zavier wasn’t Mish’s type. And if Mish was Zavier’s, Ray had seen no signs of that.

  He had felt exactly how much Zavier had wanted him, though. And the memory burned through him with both shame and desire. He shouldn’t get on Carl’s nerves, but at least that man knew he was a fuckup. Ray turned around and looked Carl up and down. “You offering?”

  From the murderous look on Carl’s face and the way his right hand curled into a fist, Ray guessed he’d said the wrong thing. Fuck. He stepped back out of instinct and held up his hands.

  An instant later, Zavier was next to them both. “There a problem?” His sudden presence and deep voice was like that of a hulking bodyguard.

  Must have had the same effect, because Carl shook his head. “Just complimenting Ray on his punctuality.” He broke away and headed toward the crew bus. “Where’s the equipment manager?”

  Ray let out a breath. Wow. Okay. No joking like that around Carl, especially not in anger. Zavier had teased along the same lines earlier, but Carl hadn’t reacted like that.

  Zavier raised an eyebrow.

  “Um—he was insinuating you and Mish had fucked and made fun of me for not getting any. So I asked him if he was offering.”

  Mish must have heard the tail end of that when he came over, since she snorted. “Nice.”

  Except it hadn’t been. They hadn’t seen the fury in Carl’s eyes. “He’s either really homophobic or—”

  “—really in the closet,” Zavier finished. “Or his dislike for you is deeper than we thought.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Ray checked himself when Zavier frowned and blew out a breath. “Sorry. The snark comes out too fast when I haven’t had any coffee.”

  Zavier pointed at the bus. “Then by all means, let’s get you caffeinated.”

  Those words should have bothered Ray, except Zavier said them without any malice or judgment, like he actually wanted to get Ray coffee.

  He watched Zavier board the bus. “I don’t understand him,” he said to Mish.

  “Honey, you don’t have to. All you have to do is trust him.” A wink and a smile, then she was following Zavier’s path into the bus.

  Well, guess coffee it was. Ray boarded and got himself settled. Everything was stowed where he wanted it, including his notebook. Memories of the day before trickled through and he took out his phone.

  Yup. The lyrics—such as they were—were still there. “Hey, Dom?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You got your acoustic guitar handy?”

  Dom dropped his book and shuffled off the couch. “No. I’ll pull it from the hold.” In a flash, he was gone.

  Zavier had another one of his questioning looks as he put together the coffee, but Mish answered, “Songwriting. Ray fiddles with the melody on the guitar.”

  “Saves your voice?” Zavier said. He set the pot and pressed a button. A couple moments later, it glugged to life.

  “Yeah, basically. And lets me see—hear the notes. I don’t nearly as well when I’m singing.”

  “I didn’t know you could play.” A hint of surprise in his words. It was echoed in his face—but it wasn’t an unpleasant expression. Read as happy, even.

  “Not anything like Dom can.”

  Speaking of which—Dom bounded back onto the bus with a guitar case in hand. “Here you go.”

  Ray took the case and nodded to Dom. “He taught me to play.”

  He rolled his eyes and flopped back down onto the couch. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s not bad, and he mostly taught himself. I just helped out here and there.” He picked up his book. “Plays piano, too. But he’ll never tell you that.”

  Zavier chuckled. “You have to keep some secrets, Dominic.”

  Dom...blushed. A lot, and glanced up at Zavier. Ray thought the bus might have started moving for the lurching in his stomach. He had no right to feel jealous, but Dom and Zav?

  He turned away. “Guess someone did get lucky last night.” He ground the words out.

  Zavier caught him by the shoulder. His grip wasn’t hard, but it was utterly firm and commanding. Ray found himself looking straight into his eyes. “Not with me.” He let go of Ray, then stepped away, heading for his berth. “Coffee’s almost done.”

  Ray sank down onto the couch, because it was more graceful an option than teetering over. He hazarded a glance at Dom, who shook his head and smiled. “Not my type.”

  Mish rolled her eyes. “Oh, lord. Zav, honey, I’m going to need a cup of that, too.”

  Zavier laughed.

  Ray stared at Dom. “But—” He’d known the way Dom had looked at Zavier back in high school.

  A mug of coffee descended into Ray’s view. “Drink this before you hurt yourself,” Zavier said. He passed between Ray and Dom and handed Mish a mug as well, then returned to get his own cup. “Dom?”

  “Please. Ray’s gonna be the death of me.”

  Ray wrapped his hands tighter around the mug, despite the heat. “But—”

  Zavier handed Dom a mug, then sat down next to Ray on the couch. “I’m not everyone’s type, Ray.”

  No one was. Ray knew that. But Zavier was as close to perfection as they came. “Still.”

  Mish snorted and Zavier toed his shoes off before stretching out his legs in that annoying way he had before, back when Ray wasn’t so pissed. Back before Ray’d flipped him off, and before he had kissed Ray’s neck and made him come.

  The memory brought the heat of desire and the flush of shame. He sipped his coffee. It was, like Zavier, perfect—dark, strong, and hot.

  The bus rumbled to life under them and shuddered forward, temporarily pausing everything as they all found their balance. On the road again.

  Zavier’s foot brushed against Ray’s thigh when he shifted. “Dom likes tall antiquarian book dealers with broad shoulders and interesting accents,” he said. “I’m commonplace next to that.”

  “I—uh—” Dom coughed. “Well.”

  “Wait, you fucked a book dealer last night?”

  Dom shrugged and smiled. “He was cute.”

  So was Zavier. Ray shook his head.

  “Dom’s the smart one,” Mish said. “He can slip off and get laid, and no one knows he’s Domino.”

  His grin got a little wider and he shrugged again before sipping his coffee.

  Ray couldn’t do that, though. Not in a million years. He was himself pretty much all the time. Unfortunately, sometimes he was an asshole and he couldn’t strip that off and shove it into a drawer. “Hey, look.” Ray glanced around at all of them. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk lately.” He focused on Zavier. “Especially to you.”

  “I wasn’t entirely fair to you, either.” Zavier poked Ray’s thigh with his toes. “All is forgiven.”

  The tightness in Ray’s chest lessened. Forgiven. That was good, because wow, he’d fucked up. Yeah, maybe Zavier could have been less of an ass, but he still had to stop flying off the handle at everything, stop being out of control.

  He leaned back and pulled his legs up until he sat cross-legged. More of Zavier’s foot now touched him. That soothed as much as the coffee. “I gotta figure out how not to get strung out when reporters dig for shit.” Hell, he had no idea how bad the news about the band was. “I’m guessing my outburst the other day went over so well.”

  Mish blew out a breath. “You know, maybe we should look at those rags, see what they’re saying so we can be ready for the questions they ask.”

  Wasn’t a bad idea at all, except for one problem. “You know I’ll
blow up if I look.”

  Zavier sipped his coffee, but it didn’t hide the smirk.

  Ray glared at him. “Look, I will. I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.”

  “I know.” Zavier’s voice was gentle. “I’m not making fun of you at all. You’re sometimes so self-aware, that’s all.”

  Sometimes, but not always. Ray gulped down more coffee. Zavier’s toes were still pressed against his thigh. “It took Mish and Dom a long time to get me to stop searching for our name on the web.”

  Dom nodded. “I mean, the good stuff’s uplifting, but the bad stuff—”

  “It’s demoralizing.” Mish stretched out her legs. “So we swore a pact to not look. Carl was supposed to let us know about good press and all that, and he does, sometimes.”

  “Sometimes,” Zavier repeated. He huffed out a breath. “That man...”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  “I’ll look,” Zavier said. “I don’t mind, and I’ve seen some of it already.”

  “Vanity-searching yourself?” Ray couldn’t help it, even if it was snark.

  Zavier’s smile was wide and lovely, and not what Ray expected at all. “God, no. I try very hard not to, because that shit kills.” His expression melted into seriousness. “The mentor I mentioned? Sent some articles.”

  “Good or bad?” Ray had to know.

  “The ones I read? Generally very positive. Praising the sound, the tightness, the energy...”

  “The drumming?” Mish said.

  Zavier blushed. Ray had seen that before, but this time he looked downright uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

  “Hon, you do make us sound better.”

  Dom nodded, and Ray had to agree, too. “Look, none of us are mad about that.”

  Zavier looked out the window and grunted. “I know. I mean, I know I’m good, but I’m not the reason Twisted Wishes resonates with fans. It’s you guys, and they don’t know how fucking hard you worked to bring me in, to make that sound happen. It’s frustrating to see praise that’s true—but only a little part of the story.”