Page 115 of Syncopation
Zavier, of course. Ray set the letter next to him on the bed. “Why...wait. Who’s been calling?” Then it hit him—the memories. The information Zavier had told him the day before in the hospital. Carl had drugged him. Theirband managerhad nearly killed him. “Oh my god. The press.”
“Yeah. The press. The record company. Lawyers. Your family. The cops—they came in person, and security let them in. But you were still asleep.”
Ray rubbed his shaking fingers over his arms. “I—I don’t know what help I’ll be to the cops.”
She patted his thigh. “You don’t have to talk to them. And you probably should get a lawyer first. We all should, I think.”
Yeah. Yeah. And thiswas when he really needed Zav, because his mind was rocking and his body burned and all the chaos threatened to close in around him again.
He swallowed. “Where’s Dom?” Because he needed to know where everyone in his little musical family was, especially now.
“Sleeping. He spent the night here, in case you woke up.”
Because everyone bent over backward to take care of Ray when he screwedup. “Fuck. I’m so sorry I’ve put this all on you.”
Mish rolled her eyes. “Ray, honey, none of this is your fault, so you just stop that shit now.”
He was already so tired and he’d just gotten up. Cops. Lawyers. How was he supposed to deal with all this? He pulled at his hair. “I know.”
He did. Logically. He nearly started in on the rebuttal anyway, but his gaze landed on his ankleand the leather bracelet—Zavier’s leather bracelet—tied around it. That brought different memories: Zavier’s touch and voice. The press of his fingers against Ray’s lips.
Shh. Stop. Breathe.
He did. Inhale, exhale. By the fourth time, his head quieted enough that he let go of his hair. “Yeah. Okay.” He didn’t know if he was talking to Mish or himself or both. “I should get dressed andfigure all this out.”
She bumped his shoulder. “You do have us, you know. You’re not alone.”
Yeah, he wasn’t. He stared at the leather around his ankle, picked up Zavier’s envelope, and opened it.
The note inside was brief, and written in that same beautiful hand.
I’m not leaving. I’m not. Read those words again. Call me when you’re ready.
—Zavier
Beneath that was Zavier’scell number. He hadn’t had it—they’d never exchanged numbers. Hadn’t needed to. Ray brushed a thumb over Zavier’s name.
“‘When you’re ready,’” he muttered. “That’s so fucking Zavier.”
Mish chuckled. “He loves you.”
“Hecaresabout me.”
“What’s the difference?” She rose and kissed him on the top of the head. “He’s not a robot, Ray. He’s a lot like you in a way—so damn passionateit overflows onto everything he touches.”
“He’s got more self-control.”
“Or more fear.” She smirked. “You boys are something else, you know?”
He had no idea what she meant “What?”
But Mish only laughed again. “How ’bout I get you coffee that’s not the hotel room stuff?”
His stomach grumbled. “Um. And a bagel? With cream cheese?”
“Anything your heart desires, sweetheart.”She headed for the door.
When it clicked closed, Ray rose. Mish couldn’t give him his heart’s desire, not really. What he wanted most was Zavier.
