Page 102 of Silver Sweet

If RJ had any ill intent, he would not look like he wants to give Tom an IV drip and let him sleep this off. He’s expressing genuine worry for someone he’s only in an on-and-off physical relationship with, and that’s messing me up.

“I’m cool,” Tom assures us in a larger swig. Then he tries to pass the water back to me.

“Finish it,” I say.

“You finish it,” he counters. “Phoenixxxx.” He hisses my name between his teeth.

Here I am, almost smiling again. “You need it more than I do.”

“Not true. So not true, dude.” He tsks a few times, then slams the bottle on the table. I grab it before it tips over, and I screw the cap back on while he says, “Ta-da!”

My lips twitch, then flatline when RJ pulls Tom into his bare chest. He extends an arm across him so he stays put. It’s something I would’ve definitely done—had I been right there. Had that been me.

“You buy him a bunch of shots?” RJ asks me—no,accusesme.

Tom points at himself.

“Looks like you have your fucking answer,” I snap at him.

RJ seems skeptical. The way he’s keeping Tom back, I can tell he’s protecting him from me. Like I’m the one who’d take advantage of a wasted Tom Cobalt.

I would rather die.

My back is so upright, my shoulders ache. I’m standing like a brick wall. “So where do you work and live?” I ask RJ.

“The Starlight on Park.”

My brows jump. “You live on Park Ave?” I know exactly where The Starlight on Park is located. In the fucking Upper East Side.

Tom is slowly processing this like we’re speaking quadrilaterals and hieroglyphics.

“The Starlight on Park is ahotel,” RJ emphasizes.

“Yeah, on Park Ave,” I bark like he’s not making sense. “No, I thought it was on Broadway. The fuck?”

RJ lets out a tight breath. “You asked, I clarified.”

“According to Tom, a rare event.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tom lifts his hands and steps away from RJ, wobbling a little. We both reach out to catch him, but he grips the high-top himself. “Keep me out of this.”

“As if this isn’t about you, nepo baby,” I say dryly.

His lips tic up a little bit. He’s such a fucking…a growl rumbles in my chest. I shake my head once. Tom loves the attention, and I can’t deny, he looks really good in a spotlight.

RJ grips his own waist with both hands. Then nods up to me. “I don’t want drama when it comes to who I get with. So I keep things simple.”

“Drama,” I repeat with a slow nod, forcing myself not to bite out,Then what the fuck are you doing with Tom?

I know Tom by now. From our late nights to our early mornings. I know he is so quick to push buttons, stoke emotion, break dumb laws like feedingsquirrels,willing to stir the pot for a little fun and a good laugh at 3 a.m. when my brain refusesto shut off and sleep. And I want to stay awake even longer just to hear him and see what happens. All the while, he is trying to clutch fastidiously to theonething he does not want out of his control. The band.

Our band.

I’m trying to hear RJ out. So I swallow the asshole comment. Because it’s fair for this guy to not want drama. After my ex, I wanted something simple too, but until I met Tom, I don’t think I was really living.

I was just existing. Going through the motions. Stuck beneath the rubble. I feel like I’ve finally started crawling out from under it, and now…this.

RJ and I both check on Tom as he leans his weight on the high-top. I’m pushing against the force, holding the table in place. And then RJ continues, “I have enough drama with my whole work-life situation. It’s like living in a rumor mill, and Tom knows this is just casual. But I care about him, and I’m going to bring him home?—”