Page 44 of Bassist With Benefits
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sitting at the breakfast table across from Jeremy was painful. He was quiet, and he didn’t crack a smile. He stared blankly across the room, focused on his plate, or glanced at Derek and Brandon. He looked everywhere else except at Alan. Everyone just thought they were battling a hangover, so no one picked up on the tension between them.
After breakfast, Felix arrived and collected everyone to go to the venue for sound check. “Why the sad faces?” he asked as they climbed into the tour bus.
“I’m just missing my guy,” Brandon answered with a pout. “He has to work for a few more hours.”
Felix waved him on the bus with an impatient huff. “Yes. Yes. I get it. You’re lost without each other. Let’s go.”
Derek threw on his sunglasses. “Too many drinks last night. And too many guys.”
Jeremy boarded next without saying a word, and Alan followed.
“Nothing from either of you?” Felix asked.
Alan shook his head, disturbed by the silence between him and Jeremy.
Sound check was uneventful, and the pre-show festivities felt like bullshit. There were so many people in the greenroom that it was easy to lose track of Jeremy. Alan wasn’t purposely avoiding his friend, but they had barely said more than a few words since last night. Their limited conversation was strictly about the music and only during sound check.
The show was the usual bout of awesomeness from start to finish. Pyrotechnics shook the place with explosions and colored lights. The props were larger than life. The crowd was insane. Brandon sang his fucking face off, and Alan beat the fuck out of his drums. It cleared his head and burned off the stress and tension of his argument with Jeremy, so at least he could try to sort out his conflicting emotions and deal with his aching heart.
Alan was quiet on the ride back to the hotel. Pretending to be engrossed in reading an article in Drum World magazine so his friends would leave him alone with his thoughts, he wondered if maybe Jeremy was right. Maybe they needed a break in order to put things into perspective. They’d had their little spats in the past, but nothing like this, and Alan worried that being together put too much stress on their friendship. The strong sexual attraction between them was new, and it filled them both with such passion that it caused them to fly off the handle at times. Alan feared that, in the end, their relationship wouldn’t work out, and he’d lose his best friend. It was complicated, and it involved more than just the two of them. Brandon and Derek, the band, the fans, the music, all would suffer if things went south between him and Jeremy. It would be so much easier if they just stayed friends – except that the thought of keeping Jeremy at arm’s length broke Alan’s fucking heart to pieces.
Having spent the night untangling the sheets from around his legs and punching his pillow, Alan purposely woke early. A stroll into the living room proved that his two roommates weren’t up yet, which was no surprise. It was only ten and they didn’t need to meet with Felix until noon. Other than that, the agenda was free until they had to leave for Lincoln, Nebraska.
Alan ordered breakfast, enough for Derek and Jeremy, with plenty of extras in case Brandon and Cam dropped by. He started the coffeemaker, hoping the smell of the fresh brew would rouse his sleepy bass player. The ups and downs of the last few weeks left Alan’s head and heart in a dizzy maze, and he wanted his world right side up again. He didn’t like the way they were avoiding one another. More than anything, he hated that Jeremy was upset.
When one of the bedroom doors opened, Alan’s heart jumped and his eyes opened a little wider. The loud roar of a yawn belonged to Derek, not Jeremy, and Alan’s spirits deflated.
“I smell something good!” Derek walked into the kitchen with his hand down the front of his briefs, scratching his lower belly. His waist-length hair was about three inches shorter than usual, since he had a massive case of bed head. It made him look like a glam rocker from the eighties.
The hotel staff arrived, bringing with them a wonderful aroma of pancakes, waffles, bacon, omelets, hash browns, and a table full of assorted breads and pastries. Yet, there was still no sign of Jeremy.
“Yo! Jeremy!” Derek bellowed toward the back of the suite. “You’re missing some fine morning chow.” He shoved three slices of bacon into his mouth. “Better hurry before I eat all the good stuff.”
Alan waited for some kind of response from Jeremy – a shout through the door telling Derek not to eat all the bacon, a thud as Jeremy fumbled out of bed – anything. Except for the sound of Derek chomping on crispy meats and shoveling food onto his plate, there was silence in the suite. Not even the ever-present music filled the quiet. Alan had deliberately left the stereo off this morning so he could sort through his thoughts and jumbled feelings, but they all morphed together and left him picturing Jeremy sleeping alone. Alan cocked his ear toward the bedroom, hoping for any sounds to indicate that Jeremy had finally rolled out of bed, but the air was mute. He lost his appetite and dropped his fork into his plate.
“Could he have company?” Derek asked, which made Alan realize that he was still staring toward the bedrooms.
“No. He was alone.” Alan forced himself to focus on his plate. He couldn’t bring himself to eat much, so he poured himself another cup of coffee. The bitter brew burned his empty stomach, or maybe the unrest in his heart took credit for the way his gut clenched. He wanted to talk to Jeremy over breakfast, make sure they were still amicable and civilized toward one another, but that obviously wasn’t happening.
“Eat,” Derek said through a mouthful of… everything. The amount of food the guy put away could feed a family of five.
Reluctantly, Alan forced himself to eat half an omelet, although it felt like it was going to make a reappearance at any moment. He finished his coffee and watched the short hallway that led to the bedrooms, waiting for Jeremy.
Derek put on some clothes, clicked on the music, andI Apologizeby Five Finger Death Punch shook the walls. It was a fitting anthem given the circumstances. As Alan listened to the lyrics, he realized he didn’t need to apologize. He had a right to keep their relationship private for a while longer. He shouldn’t be pressured or railroaded into making an announcement. This was bullshit.
He abruptly pushed back on the chair and rose to his feet, ready to march into Jeremy’s room, but stopped at the sound of a door clicking open. He held his breath as heavy footsteps slapped the carpet, growing closer with each loud step.
Jeremy approached from the bedroom wearing a pair of sweats and a crumpled T-shirt. He never lifted his eyes as he walked toward the door. “Ready to go?”
“What’s the rush?” Derek asked, holding up his mug. “I’m still drinking my coffee.”
“Bring it with you.” Without looking back or slowing his stride, Jeremy left the suite.
Alan was left staring after his friend, who up until last night was his lover. The fucking cold shoulder was an ice pick in his heart. It frustrated him as much as it crushed him, and he wasn’t putting up with it. He marched from the suite and ran after Jeremy. “Wait up!”
Jeremy stopped. It was automatic, like when someone said “Look!” and your head involuntarily obeyed.
