Page 41 of Refrain
“Maybe, except most of the stuff you read is full of shagging, and I doubt that’s going to help the situation.” Having Xane purr sexy words into his ears wasn’t going to send him off. It was more likely to leave him agitated. Not because he was harbouring feelings for his friend or anything like that, or he wanted a repeat of certain past encounters. Just because Xane gave off certain vibes that would probably get even the most devout nun thrumming.
“Actually, I’ve been reading about quantum physics and how to teach it to my dog.”
“You don’t have a dog.”
“It’s advance prep. If I do ever get one, then I’ll be all set. Well, not really, because it’s total mindfuckery, and I barely understand most of it, so it’d probably melt any canine brain.”
Spook rolled onto his side. “Tell me what you did for your birthday.”
“Ah, yes, you missed the great event.” Xane gave a resigned huff. His grey eyes had a liquid sheen in the dark. “It was… awesome, obviously. We went skinny dipping, and paragliding, and wrestled in a pool full of butterscotch instant whip, then we watched three hours of old Eurotrash repeats—ooh, the sexual tension—before I had my brains screwed out by a score of VIP guests.”
That was a load of bollocks. “What did you really do?”
“I’m hurt,” —Xane clasped a hand to his heart— “that you don’t believe me.”
“Maybe about skinny dipping and Eurotrash, the rest…hm!”
He reached out and prodded Xane in the chest.
“You know there’s things you don’t like talking about. Well my birthday is something I don’t much like talking about either.”
“What happened?”
“I ate cake and got slaughtered. And probably set a record for the least amount of sex I’ve had on my birthday in the last decade. It was shit. Let’s drop the memory of it, eh? I’m sure the next one will be awesome, because you are definitely going to be at it. Two no shows on the trot is not allowed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I did think of you.”
“Yeah, sadly I’m not telepathic. A text might have been nice. I wouldn’t have minded one a few weeks back, either.”
Spook frowned, his mind chasing around for reasons.
“Steve’s birthday,” Xane said, while fingering the diamond stud in his right ear that was all that remained of their former drummer. “He would have been thirty. Can you believe that? It’s insane that he’s gone. It shouldn’t have happened. It’s fucking bollocks.”
“Truth,” Spook agreed. “I liked what you were singing while you washed up,” he said, determinedly changing the subject. Now that the shock of Xane’s arrival had worn off, he was actually enjoying the company. “Is it something you’ve been working on?”
Xane’s eyes gleamed in the dark, flashing with possibility. “It’s just a kernel of something that won’t be nailed down. Why? You offering to help me hammer it out?”
He held his tongue for a moment, then allowed his smile to break out. “Yeah, maybe… I could be, provided that doing so doesn’t come with strings.” It would give them something to do together while they rattled around this place. Something that was forward focused. He wasn’t dumb enough to think Xane would up and leave anytime soon. He’d be here until he’d accomplished whatever he’d set out to do, whatever that was. Still, he’d prefer that every conversation they had wasn’t about the recent past or the traumas he’d done his best to bury.
“I’ll ruthlessly insist on giving you credit for your part in the process, but okay,” he put his hand on his heart. “I’ll also promise not to say anything about you performing it live for an audience above once a day. How’s that?”
“It’ll do, I suppose. At least it’s honest.”
“Black Halo isn’t Black Halo without you, Spook. I’m never going to give up making the case for you to be there with us.”
There wasn’t really anything he could say to that. Probably best therefore that he didn’t say anything at all.
Xane kept his gaze focused on him. When he realised he wasn’t getting a reply, he sighed and punched his pillow into shape before settling again with a huff, only to prop himself up again on one elbow. “Want to work on it now? I don’t mind braving the cold to get your guitar.”
Sounded better than staring into the dark, and he did get a tiny flutter in the pit of his stomach. “You’re such an exhibitionist.”
Xane’s grin turned salacious. “And you’re a top-class voyeur, so we should be sorted.” He leapt up and made a dash for the other room, muttering beneath his breath about it being fucking cold. He was stark bollock naked. He returned promptly enough with Spook’s battered acoustic in one hand and the Les Paul he’d ordered online as a temporary replacement for his beloved purple Washburn. If he had any regrets about the last few months, it was leaving his baby behind.
“I might have to insist on pants.”
“Prude.”
Spook shot him a two fingered salute. “I’m many things, but prudish ain’t one of them.”
