by Dana Delamar
She nodded. “You’re a bastard, you know.”
“I know.” I thrust inside her, making us both groan.
I knew it. But that wasn’t going to stop me.
I probably wasn’t going to change.
But I was going to try.
DEV
I slammed a hand down on my mobile in a vain attempt to shut off the alarm. That had to be the world’s most annoying ringtone. Why was the off button so bloody tiny? And why did my head feel so big? My eyes drifted to the reason for my sleepless night, Rod’s still empty foam camping mat, which lay a mere yard away from mine. Hopefully, he was, at least, sleeping somewhere more comfortable. I sat up and pressed my palms to my throbbing temples.
Had Rod spent the night on the pull with the crew and TI staff again? Was he even now waking up in someone else’s bed, sleep-warm and somewhat befuddled the way he always was when he awoke early?
Why the fuck do you care, Dev?
I didn’t care. And maybe if I repeated it often enough, I’d actually begin to believe the lie. Sky had gone to fetch Rod after dinner. They’d both disappeared after, and that was something I desperately did not want to care about.
Only, I couldn’t lie to myself about her.
I’d promised Sky there’d be no strings or expectations, that our relationship would be nothing more than a fling. After all, my destiny was to marry an Indian woman, maybe even Kalini. The truth, however, what lay in my heart, was something quite different. Making love to Sky two nights ago had revived all my feelings for her, effectively erasing the three months we’d been apart.
Pain lanced through my skull, nearly blinding me. I groaned and forced myself off the mat.
Paracetamol. A couple tablets would cure me of the misery in my head, if not the one in my heart.
I rifled through my shaving kit and swallowed the tablets with several sips of water from one of the bottles Sky had provided us. With any luck, we’d soon win our beds back via some challenge or other. My gaze returned to Rod’s unslept-on mat, and I blew out a long sigh. I’d never win a challenge if Sky hadn’t succeeded in getting Rod on board last night, and given that he wasn’t here, I doubted she had. The tablets settled on my empty stomach with a burn. Better get some brekkie before rehearsal. I scrubbed at my stubble, then checked my watch. Food or shave? There was no contest.
I stepped into some cut-off jean shorts, my flip-flops, and threw on a white T-shirt, then walked across the resort to the canteen.
The guys, except for Rod, were already seated, eating and chatting with the roadies. I filled a large Styrofoam cup with strong chai and piled a plate high with fresh fruit, egg, and toast, then headed straight over to the rehearsal space. I was in no mood for a chin-wag.
The cool air inside the building was a welcome salve. My shirt was already stuck to my back. I had to wonder how I would have survived living in India like my parents and grandparents had and how many of my cousins still did. I set my plate on a stool and went to retrieve my Taylor. I worked on a few bars of “Unfinished” that were still giving me some pains while I ate and waited for the others to arrive.
Time flew and before I knew it, Damon entered with Tommy, Jules, and Mick in tow. “Rod not with you?” I asked.
“No, mate,” Mick said. “We were hoping he was already here.”
I shrugged. “Skiving again. Whatever.” We still had an album to write. “Let’s get on with it.”
We set up and then I played the music I’d been working on for “Unfinished.”
“That’s good,” Jules said, his eyes lighting up. “But maybe this bit in the chorus might be better?” He fingered his bass guitar to show me the few chords he thought needed adjustment. His cheeks reddened and he looked away, like he couldn’t meet my eyes.
It made my chest tighten. Rod and I had done a shit job of building the band if the lads were afraid to voice their opinions.
“That’s brilliant, Jules,” I said, and it was. “I’ve been trying to figure that section out all morning.”
Jules’s face reddened even more, but his posture relaxed.
“Let’s play it from the top,” I said.
Mick started us off with the drums and Jules added in the bass. I then locked in with them, playing rhythm guitar. Tommy and Damon brought in the melody with the keyboard and lead guitar.
“That was great!” Damon whooped when we finished.
“Yes,” I said, quite satisfied with how it had turned out. “Unfortunately, we still don’t have much in the way of lyrics.”
“Rod always writes them?” Damon asked.
“I sometimes write a line or two,” as I’d done for this song, lyrics that Rod had definitely not appreciated. “But generally, I write the music and he writes the lyrics.”
Damon frowned and looked at Tommy, Jules, and Mick. “What about you guys? You never participate in that part of things?”
“Oh, sure. We help out,” Tommy said. “Like Jules just did.”
“Huh.”
I stared at Damon for a moment, considering, then cleared my throat. “I’ve heard you write songs.”
“Hell yeah, I do. Been songwriting since first grade.”
He really was the perfect replacement for me, and to be honest I wasn’t certain how I felt about that.
“Maybe, I could play something for you sometime?” Damon asked, his voice and manner unusually hesitant.
I shoved aside my own misgivings and smiled at him. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it won’t be today,” Rod said, startling me.
I’d had no idea he’d arrived. I checked my watch. “You’re late. Again.”
“Better late than not at all,” he said, striding up to the mic. His eyes were clear, his hair damp, and his stance straight and confident. “I listened to the music you sent me, Dev. And I’ve some lyrics for you.”
“You do?” I asked, surprised and envious at once. The man had been lying about for the past two days and simply waltzes into rehearsal with completed lyrics when I’d been wracking my brain and my efforts had been for naught. “For which song?”
“The second one on your CD.” He flashed me a mischief-filled grin. “I call it ‘Just Friends.’” His gaze swung over to the band. “Hit it, mates.”
When the music started up, he began to hum. The sound was low and sultry, and did odd things to my belly. No, it had to be indigestion from the tablets I’d taken for my headache. It was definitely not Rod’s voice having this effect on me.
So many years
You’ve been by my side
So many tears
I’ve tried and tried.
Rod sang softly, heartbreakingly. My pulse raced. This song was going to be a hit for King’s Cross. I could feel it in my bones, and excitement zinged throughout my entire body.
Rod took the mic off the stand, cradling it between his palms. He bent forward and belted out the next verse.
You claim we’re “just friends”
A bigger lie there’s never been
’Cause you and I were born to sin.
He turned to face me. His expression softened and he extended his arm toward me.
“Take my hand, jump on in.”
A fire started in my chest and invaded my neck, my face, my entirety. My fingers froze on the guitar strings, causing a loud screech to echo through the amplifier.
A bigger lie there’s never been ’cause you and I were born to sin.
Rod’s words banged around in my head, making it throb worse than the headache had done. My chest heaved as I tried to get air into my lungs. My hands shook and thumped against the guitar. “How dare you!” I shouted. “How fucking dare you?”
Rod held his hands out at his sides and arched a brow. “It’s the truth, innit?”
“No, it fucking isn’t.”
Rod sighed. The sound seemed incredibly loud as it was picked up by his mic. “Stop lying to yourself.”
The lads shuffled uncomfortably, which only made me more pissed off at Rod for airing our dirty laundry in front of everyone. I gritted my teeth. “What, pray tell, am I lying about now?”
Rod grinned, but I knew him better than anyone else, certainly well enough to recognize the mask of bravado he’d slipped on. “You want me, mate. And you always have.”
Seething, I worked my guitar strap over my head and deposited the Les Paul none too gently in its stand. When I was done, I rounded on Rod and poked his chest with my index finger. Hard.
“At this point, mate, I don’t even like you. We aren’t ‘just friends.’ In fact, we aren’t anything at all.”
The silence that accompanied my escape from rehearsal was the loudest sound I’d ever heard.
SKY
A cool breeze washed over me as Dev and I crested the hill on the way to today’s challenge: the guys had to cross a very high wooden suspension bridge across a river. Every team that completed the challenge got a TV added to their bungalow. The guys were all dying to catch up on their beloved soccer, or “footie” as they called it, so they’d practically stampeded out of the resort.
And Rod had shown up, just as he’d shown up to the rehearsal earlier. Of course, he’d managed to needle Dev enough to provoke him into storming out. But at least Rod had written a song. A damn good one too, from what I’d heard. Nigel had even given me a thumbs-up before Dev’s departure.
Oh well. One step forward, two steps back. At least we were moving.
Well, they were. If the two of them weren’t together by the end of the trip, it wouldn’t be because I hadn’t busted my ass.
Rod was up ahead, talking and laughing with Damon and Mick, Jules and Tommy occasionally pitching in a comment or two.
And Dev was as silent as his namesake stone at my side.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I said.
“They’re not worth even that much.”
“A half-penny then?”
He grinned. “This isn’t Dickens.”
“No, it’s not. It’s the twenty-first century.”
He stopped walking and looked at me. “So you’re saying what? That I should just be the person Rod wants me to be? Someone like him?”
“If you mean bisexual, would that be so terrible?”
A pained look rippled over his face. “I can’t do that.”
“Because you aren’t, or because you think you aren’t supposed to be?”
He turned away without a word and set off again. I watched him for a moment, then quick-stepped to reach his side. “Dev—”
“Leave it, Sky.”
“I can’t. Just what do you expect the outcome of all this to be?” When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “What do you want?”
“I want things to go back to the way they used to be. Rod and me, just mates.”
There was an uncertain note to his voice, like even he didn’t believe what he was saying.
I’d heard him tell Rod he loved him. I’d seen him in Rod’s arms, his face nestled in Rod’s neck. How could he deny that?
“Things will never go back to that point. You can’t expect him to just forget everything.”
“To forget what? The three of us?”
Heat burned through me. He could pretend all he wanted, but I knew what I’d seen. “No, I mean the two of you.”
“What?”
“Why do you think I left Palm Springs?”
He stopped again and put his hands on his hips. “That is a damn good question, yeah? I told you I loved you, and you ghosted me the very next morning.”
“I left both of you. Because I didn’t want to be the third wheel. You didn’t need me.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I saw you. The two of you, in each other’s arms, heard you tell Rod you loved him. He was so happy to hear it.”
He shook his head. “You have it all wrong, sweets. I was telling you I loved you. I was asleep. I didn’t know you’d left the bed.”
Could that be the truth? Maybe that was part of it, but I’d seen the longing in his eyes when he looked at Rod, and I’d seen the pain on Dev’s face when he’d heard Rod’s lyrics this morning, the truth of them striking him like blows.
He loved Rod, but he wouldn’t admit it. What was he so afraid of?
“You can’t expect Rod to forget that, to make all the sacrifices to make you happy.”
Dev spun on his heel and stalked away from me, stomping over the roots, twigs, and dead leaves that lined the mountain trail. He shoved the low-hanging branches of a breadfruit tree out of his way. “What about my sacrifices?”
“What do you mean?”
“My family barely talk to me because of the band. Because I’ve refused every marriage match they’ve brought me. I’ve let them down. If the band wasn’t successful, I’d really be in the shit with them. At least I’m able to help put on the wedding they want for Aahna.”
“They really don’t approve?”
“They’ve never felt that Rod was a suitable friend. Too wild. Too extreme.”
“Too pansexual?”
He nodded. “They think he’s a bad influence. That he’s the reason I haven’t settled down with a nice girl and a respectable job.”
“Are they wrong?” I kept my voice soft.
“I can’t be like Rod.”
Was he trying to explain or to convince himself? “They might not like the idea, but surely they’ll get over it.”
He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter, and waved a large flying bug out of his face. “You don’t understand. I can’t be gay. Or bisexual. My family would be mortified.”
“Gay marriage is legal in the UK.”
“And homosexual activity is still a crime in India.”
“But you don’t live in India.”
“Might as well, for all the difference it makes to my family.”
“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
He smiled, his white teeth flashing. “You grew up in one of the most liberal parts of the world. My parents didn’t, and most of our neighbors didn’t either. It’s just not done in our culture.”
“I think it says a lot that you haven’t done what your parents wanted in a lot of respects.”
“They can tolerate a lot. Forgive it, even. But not that.”
“Maybe you need to think about what would make you happy. Don’t your parents want you to be happy?”
“They would tell you yes, that’s what they want.”
“Then if they love you—”
“That’s not how this works. They know what’s acceptable and what’s not. They know what people will say—not just to them, but to me. And they know I couldn’t possibly be happy when so much of the world still hates what Rod is.”
He still wouldn’t admit it, couldn’t say the words. Just how hard could I push? “Okay then. Maybe you don’t have to be like Rod, out and proud and loud. But can you meet him halfway? At least get your friendship back?”
“Rod doesn’t do things by halves.”
“But what if he could?”
“You mean the two of us, sneaking around like we had some dirty little secret?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. If that’s all you’ll allow yourself. It might be enough.”
He snorted. “For Rod? Have you even met him?”
“You might be surprised at what he’s willing to do.”
“Compromise hasn’t been a big part of his life.”
“Just think about it, will you?”
He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I’ll think about it. But don’t expect anything to change.”
I touched his arm. “Something will have to change if you want to save King’s Cross.”
Dev placed a hand over mine. “I’ll do what’s necessary to save the band.”
I started to smile, but something about his tone rang an alarm bell in my mind.
He didn’t sound like a man determined to save the thing he loved.
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He sounded like a man mourning something he’d lost.
Chapter 4
ROD
I stared in horror at the yawning abyss and the rickety suspension bridge made of warped wooden planks and fraying rope strung across it. “Are you bleeding mad, woman?” I said, backing up until my spine pressed against a large banyan tree.
“Come on, Roddy boy,” Damon crowed. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few sticks and some string.”
“That right there is the problem, you sodding Yank arsemonger.”
“Ooh, he’s breaking out the insults, folks. Roddy boy must be really a-sceered.”
Sky laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Knock it off, Damon.”
“What? I’m just having a little fun.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll go across first. That way everyone will know the bridge is safe.”
“Why doesn’t Damon cross first?” I suggested. I was only too happy to see him go. “That way if the rope doesn’t hold, only Damon will plunge to his death.”
Damon rolled his eyes. “Love you too, dude.”
“No, no. I’ll—”
Damon ignored whatever Sky was about to say and stepped onto the bridge. It rocked under his weight. He turned to face us and began walking backward.
“Oh fuck,” Jules said. The tint of his skin turned green.
“Damon, be careful,” Dev called out.
Of course Dev didn’t want the git to die. Damon was his way out of the band. I shot Dev a glare, but he wasn’t looking at me, hadn’t done so since rehearsal this morning. Hindsight being 20/20 and all, perhaps blindsiding him in front of the band, Sky, and Nigel hadn’t been the most intelligent thing to do.
I’d hoped he’d have been shocked into admitting his feelings. He’d been shocked all right, and maybe he had been truthful. Maybe it really was over.
My gut quivering, I quickly looked away from him.
Damon gripped the ropes on either side and began shifting his weight. The bridge swayed several feet to the left and right. “Oh, oh!” he mock-cried. “I’m so scared. Someone come save me!”