Page 134 of Silver Sweet

“Fuck, Birdie,” I cringe. “That’s four and a half hours long.”

“Five with intermission,” Birdie corrects me. “At least I like playing this one. Act Two never disappoints.”

The door to the diner opens, and I turn my head to see Tom. “Phoenix, you okay, dude?”

I must have been out here longer than five minutes because concern pleats the skin between his brows.

“Is that Tom?” Birdie’s eyes light up on screen.

“Goodbye,Birdie,” I tell my brother.

“NO! TOM! TOM! TOOOM!” He screams so earsplittingly loud that I have to pull the phone away from my face.

Tom hears my brother and starts walking over. Against better judgment, I don’t end the call. I’ve met Tom’s brothers. He might as well be reintroduced to mine.

“Is that Fake Phoenix?” Tom asks as he lands beside me.

“Hey, Tom Carraway Cobalt,” Birdie wears a massive smirk. “I heard you wanted to suck my dick.”

“Fuck off, Birdie,” I tell him.

Tom rolls his eyes. “Dude, I’m pretty sure you told me to beg you, and I hung up on you. But yeah, I totally wanted to blow you. You got me.”

Birdie is still grinning. “I kid. You can’t want to suck my dick if you’re currently sucking my brother’s.”

“Jesus Christ.” I’m five seconds from hanging up on him, but I’m too hooked by Tom’s lack of response. He’s not telling my brother we’renotblowing each other.

Tom glares at the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay, dude? You’re sweating so much, I think you might be melting. Someone throw a can of water on you?”

Birdie laughs. “You’re calling me a Wicked Witch. Nice. Hey, Phoenix, next time you fuck this one can you rail him extra ha—” I end the call.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “My brother’s life goal is to embarrass the shit out of me. It really doesn’t have much to do with you.”

Tom shakes his head. “I don’t really care about your brother. I’m more concerned about you and why you bolted out here.”

A gust blows through the street. I step closer to Tom, blocking him from being beaten by wind. Despite the mountain of pressure on my chest at having this conversation, I’m not as eager to run away from it.

I want Tom to know.

“My ex from college was a songwriting major at Berklee. He sold that song to Oak Bluffs a few years ago. I never thought I’d hear it again. I hoped I wouldn’t.”

Tom’s eyes darken. “The ‘Tragic Hold’ guy?”

“Yeah. That’s the motherfucker.” I swallow the rise of bile.

“Things must’ve ended really badly with him…if you had such a visceral reaction to his song.”Hissong. My muscles tense. My breath shortens.

“You could say that.” I slide a hand against the back of my searing neck. “Last New Year’s, on my birthday?—”

“Wait, you were born January first?” He jerks back like it’s a shocking factoid. “I feel like I should’ve known this before we…you know.” He glances at my dick for two seconds, then scouts the street like some random stranger is going to hear we hooked up.

He’s so fucking dramatic. No one is even paying attention to us. We might as well be the lampposts.

I blink hard at him. “You didn’t even knowRJdid cartwheels for a fucking living, and you’re freaked out that you didn’t know my birthday?”

“I mean, this is a little different.” He gestures between his chest and mine. I open my mouth to respond, but he’s fast to clarify, “You’re my drummer. We work together. I didn’t work with RJ.”

“Right…” My head is spinning. We’ve confessed to having feelings beyond sexual desire, but we haven’t defined what we are. It’s more obvious now. “We’re just bandmates hooking up.”