Page 85 of Sycopation
Ray laughed. “But it’s not always sexual.”
That was true, too. He pulled Ray’s head down into his lap. “This okay, or do you really want to kneel on the floor with your forehead on my shoes?”
“Wanna do both. But this is fine.” Ray’s words were soft, and his body relaxed.
Zavier stroked his hair. “Tell me what you see.”
“I’m calling it ‘Dare to Be.’” Then Ray whispered words and colors. Shapes. Sometimes he spoke so low, Zavier couldn’t hear. He also tapped out a beat on Zavier’s thigh, one Zavier echoed and improvised with on his back, until Ray was humming and singing and then slipping into sleep. A continuation of the song Ray’d been working on before. And now Zavier had the name—one even Mish and Dom didn’t know. He held on to that like a talisman.
How many years had it been since he’d had a friend like Ray? One he could sit and be with? He couldn’t remember. Once sex came into the picture, everyone had always expectedmorefrom him. Some great romantic connection. Dinners and presents anddeclarations. But Ray didn’t seem to need that and it was a fucking miracle.
He fell asleep at some point, too, and woke when Mish pulled back the privacy curtain. She smiled at them and pointed to the bathroom.
Zavier waved his hand. He could stay like his forever, but Ray would probably be more comfortable in his bunk. He stroked his fingers through Ray’s hair. “Hey...”
Ray stirred. “Fuck—uh. What time is it?”
“No idea. Mish needed the bathroom and that woke me up.”
Ray gripped Zavier’s knee. “Guess we should sleep in real beds, huh?”
“That’s not until Utah. But you’re gonna get a huge knot in your neck if you sleep on me all night.”
Ray moaned and sat up. “Yeah. Probably.”
When Mish cleared the bathroom, they all headed up and crawled into their respective berths.
“Zav?” Ray’s voice filtered down from above.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for listening.”
Yeah, there was that warm content feeling again. Like sitting in the sun or lying on a beach. A perfect moment. “Always.”
Nothing more, just the rumble of the bus and the soft sounds of his bandmates falling asleep.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
The concertat the venue near Salt Lake City nearly left Ray naked. He’d jumped into the crowd and bodysurfed, but it had gotten pretty damn rowdy and he’d lost a good part of his pants and had been felt up more in those few minutes than all his times cruising bars.
By the time he’d make it back on stage, he’d been laughing and high with adrenaline, but after the show, he’d realized just how lucky he’d been not to be dropped. Still, he loved running out into the crowd.
Carl, predictably, was furious. “You so eager to show your dick, Ray?”
“Not particularly.” He was also too damn tired to get upset with Carl or get down on himself. Plus, there’d be a hotel bed tonight. Two. One for him and one for Zavier. Which one he’d end up in, he didn’t care, as long as Zavier was there.
“Seems like it to me.” Carl crossed his arms.
Ray shrugged. “I’ll admit stage diving was probably not the best plan, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Every singer does it once in their career,” Mish said.
Carl threw up his hands. “You don’t even fucking care about your image, do you? They think you’re a slut, Van Zeller. A?—”
“Drunk? That hasn’t been in the news for a while. And they don’t think I’m a slut, they think I’m fucking Zavier.”
