Smolder (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

23. Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-three

Skyler

“What the hell are you doing?” The incessant pecking on my shoulder scared the hell out of me.

I turned around to see JD and Arlo, and they were cracking up at my sad covert stalking, the jerks. I was huddled beside a goldfish slot machine, watching Sandy sitting with a beautiful woman in a nearby lounge. They were laughing and talking and drinking, and I was pissed.

“I’m—what the hell are you two doing? Is River wandering around down here?”

We’d gone to a few places—Omni Mart for the trippy vibe they had. New York, New York to ride the rollercoaster and play in the arcade. We’d watched the fountains at Bellagio and eaten pizza until we were ready to bust. I’d reached my time limit without Sandy, so I took us back to the hotel and sent the guys to bed.

Once I knew everyone was tucked into their rooms for the night, I knocked on Sandy’s door. When he didn’t answer, I opened it to see he wasn’t there, so I went looking for him. Finding him in the martini lounge in the casino, I sat at a slot machine nearby. My eyes were trained on the handsome man who had won my heart but didn’t know it, and I didn’t like what I was seeing.

“Riv’s knocked out. Why are you down here? You said you don’t gamble.” JD glared at me before he turned to Arlo, who nodded.

“I don’t gamble because I can’t afford to, but I put in five dollars just to see what it’s like. The last time I was here, I couldn’t gamble because I wasn’t old enough. Now, go away.”

“Oh, are we having a band meeting?” I turned to see Goldie standing behind us.

When I glanced back at the lounge, Sandy and the woman were gone. “Shit.”

Goldie laughed. “He went that way…with a lady.” He pointed to his left toward the hallway that led to more restaurants.

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll be driving home tomorrow. Come on.” The four of us walked toward the elevators, though I was tempted to stalk Sandy and the woman to see where they’d gone. What the hell was going on?

When I returned to our suite, I sat on the couch to wait for Sandy’s return. Who was the woman, and why were they together? I wouldn’t get any sleep until I knew he was back, and even then, I might not close my eyes.

Sweat rolled down my temple and into my ear. So annoying that it woke me from a sound sleep. I was boiling alive. I opened my eyes to see the sun blazing through the large picture window into the suite’s common room. I hadn’t closed the curtains when I stretched out on the couch the previous night, and now I regretted it.

I sat up on the couch, seeing the door to Sandy’s room was still open and the bed untouched. He hadn’t returned to the suite, and my heart shattered.

It was the worst possible outcome. I’d fucked up by not being honest about my feelings, and I’d lost my chance with him. I got up from the couch and went to my room to sulk.

River was still sleeping, so instead of lying down, I took a shower, trimming up some places that required a little maintenance. Checking my face, I decided to leave a five o’clock shadow and a soul patch on my chin before I pulled my hair back, gathering as much as I could to pull it away from my face.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, River was sitting against the headboard, hair like he’d been in a windstorm, with a self-satisfied grin. “I told you to ask him to come along.”

I sighed. “I wanted to spend time with you before returning to Illinois.” I wasn’t ready to leave, but I had the feeling my time with the band and Sandy was coming to an end.

“You’re full of shit, Sky. You’re scared, aren’t you? You don’t know how the fuck to handle a real relationship. You’re just like Regal.”

I stomped across the room and grabbed River by the T-shirt. “You take that back.”

River grabbed my hand and jerked it away from him. “Look at how fucked up our life is, Sky. God knows we’ve never been the picture-perfect family. Hell, our mothers are both fucking our father—or they were. Do you know Arlo might be our half-brother? Seems everyone in the band slept with his mother around the same time, so they don’t know for sure who his father is, but all signs point to Regal.”

That was a huge fucking surprise. “Does Arlo know?”

River chuckled. “Who do you think told me?”

My mouth dropped open because I had no damn idea my assumptions about Regal were true, though I should have expected something of the sort. I’d always waited for the other shoe to drop, and now it had. Why was I fucking surprised?

The ability to curb my language was slowly leaving me because I was dealing with Regal’s bullshit once again. I’d thought I was prepared for it, but here I stood in shock. Did my mother know about Arlo? Would she be in shock as well, or was this yet another thing she’d kept from me so my image of Regal wasn’t tarnished even more?

I released my brother’s shirt and sat on the side of the bed. “How do you feel about this?”

My brother sighed. “Look, Sky, we’ve both known we weren’t like the families we saw on TV. Our parents are different, ya know? They all have different ideas of family, and it’s up to us to decide whether to follow their lead or run as far away from it as we can. I wanna follow in Regal’s footsteps as far as music goes, but I won’t be doing things the way he has. What about you?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? What did I want for my life?

River and I met the guys at the IHOP across the street from the Intercontinental. JD, Arlo, and Goldie had gone sightseeing and souvenir shopping early that morning while River and I were being lazy. I had a lot on my mind, as did my little brother, and neither of us had felt like walking around The Strip.

We were put in a large booth, the three of them across from River and me. “Where’s Marshall?”

Goldie smirked at me. “He had a breakfast meeting with some security guy and Sandy. Sandy looked really fucking rough when he stopped by our suite. He was wearing one of those cheap Las Vegas T-shirts and a pair of dress slacks. Musta been some night.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear at all. “I wouldn’t know. Anyway, let’s order. I wanna get home earlier rather than later. I need to talk to Marshall and Regal to find out what they’ve decided. If they’re going to use a track for the song, Regal can pretend to play. I don’t see that I’m really needed anymore.”

Arlo stared at me. “You gotta play with us until we find a drummer. Marshall said we’re gonna open for From the Ashes when they do those gigs this summer. This might be our big break, and then there’s Rocktoberfest. Whatever our family history is, please don’t fuck this up for us. Don’t we deserve a shot too?”

The guy looked at the end of his rope, and if I had a heart left, it would have ached for him. He was right. He and River deserved their break, and if it depended on me to help them get it, I’d make any sacrifice I could.

“Yes, you do, and I’m sorry, I was only thinking of myself. I’ll help in any way I can, guys.” That was all I could say. My time would come to return home, and I would be more patient. Arlo, River, and I had no say in our parents. We needed to support each other.

River sat forward and focused solely on Goldie. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. What is going on with you and Marshall?” We all sat forward a little at that question, our eyes drilling holes in poor Goldie.

“What can I get ya, fellas? Separate checks or one big one?”

I knew these guys didn’t have much cash between them, so I stepped up. “One check, please.”

I’d eat Ramen when I got back home. I might never get a chance to hang with both of my brothers like this, so I’d better enjoy it while I had it.

We ordered our food, and then we all went back to eyeing Goldie. He chuckled. “Seriously? Nothing is going on. He’s a big flirt, as we all noticed yesterday when he was talking to that Cruz guy. Marshall is in it for Marshall, all the way. He wants us to make him some money, and I get the impression he would sleep his way to the top if that was an option.”

Goldie then turned to me. “Be very careful with Sandy. If he’s anything like Marshall, he’s probably a man-whore. You don’t want an STI. A buddy of mine got a nasty case of syph and has been on meds for months. That shit will make you crazy and eventually kill you.”

Goldie served the topic up on a silver platter. “I use protection, but I wanted to talk to you guys about that very thing. As we know, unprotected sex can lead to unexpected pregnancy.” I pointed to River, Arlo, and myself. “There’s also HIV, which doesn’t just affect queer men. And there are any number of STIs you can get, and some of them are becoming more resistant to meds. Use a condom, please. Get tested. Be careful with your sexual health.”

I made eye contact with each of them, though JD continued to stare at the table. I’d see if he wanted to talk, and the perfect time would be when we were driving back to Cupertino. Marshall and Goldie could ride with Sandy and the others. I’d drive the rented van with JD as a passenger.

I hoped JD had a more solid relationship with his father than I had with mine. Maybe being a big brother to all of them was something I could do. I could fly out to California or maybe meet them on the road somewhere if they got a recording contract and a tour. That was what I hoped for them, anyway.

“I’ll drive the van back to Cali. JD, ride with me.”

Sandy geared up for a protest, but Goldie tossed JD the keys, who handed them to me, and the two of us got into the vehicle.

Sandy was still wearing that stupid cheap-ass T-shirt. My curiosity was piqued. What the hell had happened the previous night? Did I really want to know?

We made our way through Vegas and finally took the ramp to I-15 South. It was about three hours to Bakersfield, where we’d get on the I-5, so there was time to talk.

“Don’t ever get into a poker game, JD. You have a definite tell.” I glanced in his direction to see him look at his hands.

“That’s what Dad tells me.”

A man of few words. I was a teacher. I could get young people to talk. “You got any brothers or sisters?”

“A younger sister. She’s still in high school.”

“Do you get along?” Come on, man, give me something to work with.

“She lives with Mom, and I’m staying with Dad until I can make some money and get my own place. Riv and I were trying to see if we could find something together, but he’s having trouble saving. He does odd jobs and stuff, but he gives his money to his mom to help with whatever’s going on in their lives. It’s wild that your mom and Riv’s mom are both in a relationship with your dad. Does that bother you?” JD started chewing on his cuticles, so I reached over and pulled his thumbnail from his teeth.

“I found out right before I got to Cupertino, and things have been going ninety miles an hour ever since. I haven’t thought much about it, but I guess if a poly relationship makes my mother happy, I just need to support her. I’m not jealous or anything, and as unconventional as it seems, if it works for her, I’ll keep my mouth shut.

“I’m assuming your parents divorced. I don’t know Ripper as well as Dusty, but he seems like a good guy. Is it hard living with him?” We were meandering, but hopefully, he was becoming comfortable with me.

JD chuckled. “He’s great most of the time, but he wasn’t great when I got crabs last summer. He had a fit and gave me a lecture every day when we had to keep doing so much laundry. I used a condom, but they don’t protect against crabs. I know what you mean about STIs. It’s fucking embarrassing, and they itch like crazy. I had to shave off my pubes. I’ve kept them shaved since then.”

I nodded. I hated to tell him, but… “You can still get them on other parts of your body—under your arms, on your legs, anywhere you have coarse hair.”

“You can? How the fuck do you keep from getting them?”

“Don’t have sex with someone who has crabs.” It was the most straightforward way to explain it to him.

“How do you do that?” JD’s face was scrunched in confusion, and he was biting his lip. Ripper really should have had a talk with the kid after that episode.

“Don’t have sex with strangers…like groupies or randos you meet at concerts. I’m not saying all girls who go to concerts have crabs, but you don’t know their sexual history.”

That was something I needed to abide by as well—Sandy Kensington was a great example. He’d said he hadn’t slept with women, but he wasn’t specific about sleeping with other guys, not that I had a standing in his life to demand numbers from him. Was I going to be sorry for a reason other than the fact he was fucking with my head?