Resonance, page 24
“Too far. Now I can’t see your face.”
“My face is not the important part here, Dan,” I chided on a laugh.
“Sure it is. Otherwise you’re just a headless dick.”
“Nothing wrong with that. There’s a whole segment of POV porn in honor of it.”
“Well, I’m only interested in this POV right now, and I want to see you.”
Delicious warmth gathered in my balls as I adjusted the laptop again. “If you were here, would you touch me?”
“Sure as shit would. I like you spread out like that, like you’re naked and waiting for me.”
I stroked my shaft and rolled my hips into my touch, letting my breathing grow erratic along with his.
“Would you—” I cut the rest off abruptly and tilted my head, listening because I thought I’d heard…
“Owen, ya here?” came from the front of the house.
“Hang on,” I hissed at Dan, then jumped up from the bed and locked the door just as Aiden pounded on it. “Just a second,” I called out.
“Cockblocked by my brother, why am I not surprised?” A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Dan’s mouth as I returned to the computer. “Need to call me back later?”
“Yeah, shit. Tonight. We’re finishing this, but right now my dick is DOA from unexpected interference.” No way would I be able to get off knowing Aiden was home and roaming around.
I fumbled on my jeans and opened the door a minute later, huffing out a “What’s up?” as Aiden backed away with a smirk.
“Clearly I’ve interrupted something.” He peered over my shoulder at the laptop on the bed. I stepped aside to block his view.
“Personal business.”
He cocked his head. “So you are fucking my brother. I’ll be damned.” There were moments when they sounded so alike it was disorienting.
I mussed a hand through my hair and stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me. “I’m not sure how you draw that conclusion.”
“Obvious context clues. I actually did well on that portion of those reading tests in school.”
“Congratulations.” I infused as much flatness into my voice as I could to try to dampen his interest. “Did you need something?”
“Was about to cook up some eggs and bacon, thought I’d see if you wanted some.” His eyes shaded salaciously. “Sounds like you might be more in the mood for some sausage, though.”
“Not yours.”
“No, definitely not mine,” he agreed. “I don’t do sloppy seconds.”
I rolled my eyes but followed him into the kitchen and whisked eggs as he buttered toast and put the bacon in the pan to fry. Afterward we sat at the table eating our breakfast dinner. It was early still, 4:30, twilight only just dimming the sky into a paler yellow orange that cocooned the kitchen in a warm glow until I flipped on some lights.
“Why’re we eating so early?”
“This is my lunch.”
“Okay, why are you eating lunch so late?”
“I was out.”
“Obviously.”
“Looking for jobs, a new place.” Aiden lowered his head and swiped his lips with a napkin, something about the action striking me as self-conscious. And because I hadn’t seen his demeanor shift that way before, I studied him closely, like the scars on the backs of his knuckles would tell the rest of the story.
“You said you were evicted, right? From your last place?”
“Yeah.” His weary expression transformed into one with more defiance and fire behind it. “I missed rent a couple of times because I lost my job.”
“Did you lose it or get fired?”
“Goddamn, you’re as bad as Dan. No wonder he likes you.” When I didn’t respond, Aiden huffed out a breath. “I got fired for borrowing some money from the till and not telling management about it. I was a bartender.”
“So you stole it?”
He gazed at me for a long stretch, mouth working like he was considering a denial, and then he shrugged. “Yeah, I stole the goddamn money.”
“So just say that. What’d you do before? Ru said you used to be a session musician.”
“Ru?” And then it dawned on him, and he chuckled. “Ru’s an idiot.”
I set down my fork and pushed my plate away. “If you talk about him that way, I will kick your ass out of here.”
Aiden’s eyes shot up to meet mine, I guess to see if I meant it, and whatever he’d been on the cusp of saying died on a slow exhale. “All right, easy. Jesus.” He nodded toward my plate. “Go ahead. You should finish that. Look like you need about four more plates.” I lifted my middle finger at him but dragged my plate closer and dug in again, because I was starving. “I was a session musician. Got burned out on it, I guess. Kept trying to make something happen, but genetics only goes so far.”
“Dan didn’t help you?”
“Sure, he tried, but shit, that might’ve been worse. It’s hard to shine from someone else’s shadow.” He pointed his fork at me. “That’s not the issue between Dan and me, though, not really, so don’t get that in your head. I might be a fuckup, but I’m not completely ungrateful.”
After dinner, I pulled on my jacket and tucked a flashlight in the pocket. Aiden leaned against the doorway from the kitchen, a towel over his shoulder he wiped his hands on. “Where do you get off to?”
“I dunno. I just walk. It’s nice out here. I walk in the woods or a ways down the road, then back. Or I go sit out by the barn. Dan used to walk with me, too. Not that that’s an invitation for you.” I strode toward the door.
Aiden chuckled. “I wasn’t presuming that whatsoever, believe me.”
I sensed his gaze still on me as I opened the door… and immediately jumped back with a shout.
The guy on the porch lurched backward, too, with a matched bark of surprise. He’d been hunkered over what appeared to be a cardboard box. I had visions of severed heads and Brad Pitt in Seven and stupidly fumbled for the porch light, flipping the switch and flooding the worn floorboards along with the stranger.
“Fuck!” The guy threw his hands up to ward off the sudden brightness. “Can you turn that off?”
“What’s in the box?”
From behind, I heard the sound of Aiden’s completely unconcerned laughter as he came closer. And then it cut off suddenly when I flicked off the light and the guy on the porch lowered his hands from his face.
I knew those charcoal eyes, but it took me a second.
“John Paul!” I put a hand over my chest and pressed, trying to trick my heart into a slower rhythm. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“I—” His brows hiked into his hairline, and then his gaze flickered over my shoulder toward Aiden. He snapped his mouth shut, lips pursing a moment before he answered. “I’m dropping some stuff off. For Dan. Records. I’m a… uhh… runner of sorts. Like a courier.”
“Oh. You don’t just bring them to the shop directly?”
“Nope, I’ve always brought them here.”
The resolute steeliness in his eyes burned away my intent to question him further. “He’s out of town,” I told him, but John’s gaze had fixed just over my shoulder where Aiden stood.
He lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgment. “Hello.”
I twisted around to see Aiden nod minutely in return. My gaze drifted between them because something was definitely happening there that I couldn’t put my finger on. I’d stepped into some social twilight zone.
“Do you two know each other?”
Aiden blinked away and shrugged. “Not really.”
John ignored my question altogether and, with a final nudge of his toe to the box, turned toward the stairs. “Make sure Dan gets those. Tell him it’s to help.”
On that enigmatic note, he lifted his hand as a goodbye, then trotted down the stairs.
Still utterly confused, I listened to the grind of the engine as he cranked his truck and drove off.
The box was fairly lightweight, and I scooped it up before kicking the door closed and squatting down just inside to examine it.
“Open it,” Aiden suggested, dropping his gangly ass down next to me.
I considered not, but curiosity got the better of me and I took the Swiss Army knife Aiden held out in offering and slit through the tape, then opened the flaps to reveal a thick stack of record sleeves, all shrink-wrapped in plastic except one. I pulled it free and let out a breath. “I haven’t seen this one before.”
“It’s new, obviously,” Aiden said.
“Thanks, genius, I got that part.” When I doubled back to Aiden’s face for a second look, he shrugged. “Most anyone who’s worked in the industry over the last five years knows Jessup’s stuff.”
But it took me longer than it should’ve to fit all the pieces together.
When I did, I dropped back onto the carpet, resting my spine against the couch as I held up the record—Jessup Polk, Down A Darker Road—then stared accusingly at Aiden.
“You already knew it was him.”
“Put it together a while back. Told you I was good with those context clues. I’m also good at keeping a secret.”
I had some doubts about that, but I held my tongue. “He plays in public, though. Doesn’t he know it’s just a matter of time before someone figures it out? John Paul? I mean, that’s way too fucking easy.”
Aiden shrugged. “No one has yet, including you until just now, and the stuff he plays in public is pretty different. It’s usually his proving grounds, like he’s testing a sound. By the time he finally releases it, it’s evolved a lot.”
I flipped the record over, examining the eight tracks listed. “So let’s listen to it.”
Aiden followed me into the den where Dan’s turntable rested on top of an oak buffet. I put the record on and sprawled on the floor since Aiden had taken up the whole couch.
A warm, scratchy bassline poured from the speaker, soon joined by a plaintive croon like coyote howls in the darkness. It was weird, and different, and also catchy as hell once he started in on the first verse. “Damn, he’s good,” I murmured.
Aiden hummed a quiet agreement. I guess he wasn’t so bad. At least he appreciated good music, and there was something about him that was growing on me, a deeper sense of loneliness to him that I recognized all too well.
The first song ended and the second one began, and as I unraveled the layers of sound in the back of my mind, I heard the roots of the song in the one Jessup had played at Howie’s. It was almost undetectable, but there. He’d played the raw seed, and in the months after it had sprouted and unfurled into a lush beauty.
“A bunch of us are getting together at Ru’s to watch Dan and Ryder’s live webcast if you want to come?”
Aiden had one hand flung over his eyes, fingertips of the other lightly combing the carpet. A tiny smile curved his lips and, wow, stripped of his usual world-weariness and roughneck attitude, it was pretty. “Thanks. I’ll probably pass, though. I’ll be heading out for a couple of days here soon. May not be back before Dan is, which’ll suit him fine.”
“Where are you going?”
He hitched one shoulder. “Got a few leads I wanna follow up.”
I didn’t bother trying to get him to elaborate this time, just nodded, closing my eyes again and listening to Jessup.
We listened to the rest of the album that way, each song more beautiful and haunting than the last, and a sharp departure from his previous album, which had been a catchier folk-pop exploration.
When the album ended, I hopped up, retrieved it and placed it back in the sleeve, then returned it to the carton.
“I’m going to bed.” I stretched and yawned demonstratively.
“I’ll bet.” He chuckled and rose from the couch. “Me too. Except I’ll be actually sleeping.”
“I’ll be sleeping,” I sniffed. After I had some hot internet sex with Dan, hopefully.
“Yep.” Aiden waved me off and ambled toward the spare bedroom, then stopped and turned back. It really was startling how similar some of their mannerisms were for two people who’d spent the last decade at odds. “Dan was fucked-up for a long time after—” He paused, seeming to consider his phrasing. “—after he and Ryder dismantled the band. Just… you’re all right, and I hope you won’t take it personally if it doesn’t work out with him.”
I stared at him until he appeared to realize I wasn’t going to say anything back.
Once I heard the door shut, I raced back to the master and pulled out my phone, texting Dan before Aiden’s words could sink in and start me down a rocky path of self-doubt. I didn’t need any more helping hands with that.
Ready to pick up where we left off. And by the way, Jessup Polk stopped by and brought you some records.
CHAPTER 27
On the night of the live broadcast, we all crowded around Ru and Quinn’s fancy new flat-screen at their loft in the Gulch. Ivy brought some kind of chili. Quinn had made a charcuterie. And Ru made fun of Quinn for said charcuterie.
I brought beer and potato chips. Quinn showed me to the cabinet in the kitchen with bowls, and I dumped the chips in one, stuck the beer in the fridge, and carried a couple out with me to the living room, passing them around. There were a few other friends of Ru’s and Quinn’s I didn’t know very well, so I sat next to Ivy, who’d also come alone.
Just before the show started, I checked my phone and discovered I’d missed a text somewhere between arguing with Ivy over Coldplay and listening to Quinn and Ru bicker lovingly. Opening the message, my breath caught at the vision of so many people packed together in front of the stage, disappearing into a twilight horizon. I could only imagine how Dan must have felt. Below the picture, he’d written, crowd of thousands, and I’m thinking about how my ass looks in these jeans.
I snorted, ignored Ivy’s curious side eye, and texted back, Break a leg!
I didn’t expect another reply, seeing as how the TV showed the lights dimming onstage, but I got one a second later. Don’t say that, too much potential at my ‘advanced age.’
I tucked my phone away and focused on the TV screen as the stage darkened fully and cheers erupted in a raucous wave.
“Bets on whether or not Dan flubs at some point tonight?” Quinn scooped his hand through the chip bowl.
“Pfft, you’re crazy,” Ru countered. “Dan doesn’t choke. He’s the choker. No deal.”
No one would take Quinn’s half-joking bet, which was smart. I’d listened to Dan practice constantly before he left, heard him in the mornings before I even got up and late at night sometimes, the rough-throated croon of his voice. Sometimes a twangy drawl. There was no chance he was gonna do anything but nail it. He’s the choker. A delicious shiver ran through me. I could definitely get behind some of that.
Ryder and Dan came from opposite ends of the stage, which I guess was supposed to be symbolic, meeting in the middle with one of those one-armed hugs and mutual back claps that was both friendly and masculine.
Dan’s ass looked fantastic of course. All of him did. My cock gave a bereft little twitch, and then a second set of lights swung around to the stage and the audience went apeshit as Ryder strummed the opening notes of “Longing.”
They launched into the barn burner, then transitioned through another three songs off their first and second albums without pausing, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.
After the fourth song wound down, they took a water break amidst screams and catcalls. The camera zoomed in on the pair of them as they retrieved the bottles placed next to stools set alongside each other. There were plastic cups, too, of what must have been beer, and Dan picked his up, taking a long swig as the camera shot tightened and caught the sheen on his forehead and cheeks as he drank.
“Glad you finally decided to show up, Dan. It’s been a couple years,” Ryder teased. The crowd roared with good-natured laughter and cheers.
Dan lifted his hands, a guilty expression on his face that I could tell was for show. “I’m a tough one to pin down. Always been a little bit of a ramblin’ man.” He angled toward Ryder, fingers moving absently over his guitar strings. “What I’m curious about, though, is when you got so damned ugly. I mean, I know aging’s a bitch, but hell.”
More roars from the crowd, even though Ryder was anything but ugly. He was softer-edged than Dan’s masculine cragginess, but there was potent confidence in the way he commanded the stage.
Ryder ruffled a hand over the top of his head in a mimicry of modesty, then grinned and cocked his brow at Dan until Dan laughed.
My stomach knotted up out of nowhere. I’d expected it to be more obvious that they were just playing to the audience, but Ryder’s grin seemed genuine and invested, and Dan seemed… I studied the screen as the camera zoomed in on him again, color high in his cheeks and a lightness in his eyes that seemed to transmit internal joy.
Dan seemed really happy.
And there was no reason that should put so many snakes in my gut, but it did. I closed my eyes, blinked them open, and fixed on Ru’s arm draped around Quinn’s shoulder instead. Which wasn’t really any better.
I was jealous. Of everything at the moment. And I hated how sour that made me feel.
On screen, Dan and Ryder continued to banter back and forth.
“Speaking of ramblin’, what say we do a cover? You in the mood?”
Dan considered, and I could tell that they’d planned out the “break” in the set list in advance. I took a large gulp of my beer, then another, wooziness hitting me as Dan played the opening riff to “Ramblin’ Man.”
After the show ended, I lingered on the pretense of helping clean up, which was a joke because there wasn’t really anything to clean up. But I wasn’t ready to go back to Dan’s place yet. The dark, empty rooms and the sense of his absence and this looming fear that I’d walk in and feel like an intruder in his home. In his life. I hadn’t before, but watching him live on stage with Ryder had shifted things around inside me, making me feel all jumbled up and like I was missing pieces. Or like I’d thought I was looking at a picture of one thing, but really it was something else altogether.
I startled when arms wrapped me in a hug from behind and lifted.
