Beyond the Sea (25 page)

Troy’s gaze was distant. “He was a force of nature, my dad. A born salesman. He orchestrated the TV show, and then had the big idea for the band. He held auditions and picked the other guys, shopped us to the label after putting a video on YouTube that went viral. I have to hand it to him, he knew what he was doing. The band’s done better than any of us dreamed.” His shoulders hitched and his voice went hoarse. “I wish he’d lived to see it.”

“
Here.” Brian passed Troy a water bottle, waiting while he downed it.

“
Thanks. So, he was pretty much always on something. I could tell by the way he carried himself. Alcohol had him slouching. Coke was standing up straight as an arrow, and once he started heroin, he was flat on his back. He’d lock himself away for hours. Days, even. We were still doing the TV show, pretending nothing was wrong. We never even talked about it ourselves. We pretended it wasn’t happening.”

“
Your mom didn’t try to get him cleaned up?”

“
Nope. Not that I know of, at least. Stuck her head in the sand and went on like everything was great.” He sighed. “It’s not because she didn’t care, or didn’t want him to stop. But this was her American dream, you know? She came over as a nanny and ended up a hairdresser. Living in a five-bedroom house with a pool symbolized so much for her. We visited her village in the Philippines when I was a teenager. She grew up in a hut. Dirt floor, no plumbing. So I can understand why she didn’t want to screw up what we had. It’s amazing how people can live in denial for a long-ass time.”

Brian sure knew about that. He asked, “Does she have any family in the States?”

“
Her three sisters she eventually brought over, and their husbands and kids. But she has four brothers in the Philippines and a huge extended family. The money wasn’t just supporting us, but practically Mom’s whole village. And once our show was a hit and we moved into that new house in the Hollywood Hills, she’d say, ‘Look at the Tanners living in Hollywood!’ She was so freaking happy.”

“
A dream come true.”

“
Yep. Still, it had been one thing when he was drinking—the heavy drugs were a lot harder to ignore. But I would deal with him when he got bad, so it’s not her fault.”

Brian hesitated, trying to think of the best way to say:
You were a child and she sure as hell should have protected you from it. “
Well…she’s your mom and you love her, but she could have done better. You were just a kid.”

Troy shrugged, but the tension in his body was obvious. “She did insist that a big chunk of our money be put in trust funds. Made sure Dad couldn’t put all of it up his nose or into his veins.”

Brian wanted to reach out the way Troy had done the night before, but in the dawn it seemed harder. “That’s good.”

Troy pulled at a coconut’s husk. “It was when we were recording our first album. Mom was volunteering at the hospital, and Dad hadn’t shown up to the studio. Some mornings, I had to haul him into the tub and turn on the cold water to get him up. That day, he’d told us to go on ahead. I didn’t like my brother seeing Dad when he was using, so I left while Ty was putting down a solo track. There were still good days, and I figured this was just a bad one.”

Cringing, Brian waited. He hated that Troy had gone through this. He wished there was some way he could change it.

“
He was in a suit. He always wore suits outside the house. It was like…his signature or something. He’d wear a three-piece to a movie. When I was little I thought it was cool, then embarrassing when I was a teenager. By the time I was twenty, I was just happy if he was acting normal.” He went quiet.

“
You don’t have to tell me.”

“
I know.” He looked at Brian. “But I want to. I want you to know.” Troy restlessly tossed aside the fruit and picked at one of his nails, fiddling with a ragged edge. “He was on his back on the kitchen floor. Mom had just had it redone in this black and white tile she loved. He’d puked all over himself, and I remember thinking, ‘He’s gonna be pissed. He loves that paisley tie.’ I never once thought… I’d seen him a mess plenty of times. Dragged him to bed, cleaned him up. Made sure Mom and Ty didn’t have to deal with it. I thought this was just another time he overdid it.”

After a few moments of silence, Brian murmured, “I’m sorry.” He did reach out then, but Troy was already on his feet, busying himself with adding more fronds to the campfire they’d light soon.

“
I realized he wasn’t blinking—he was just staring at the ceiling. His skin was this pale gray, and his leg was twisted under him. I don’t know how long I stood there. Too long. Wanting to wake up and have it not be true. But he was already dead, so I guess it didn’t matter. I’d never thought it would happen. No matter how fucked up Dad got, he’d always been able to pull himself together. Flash his smile and charm anyone who needed charming. Never thought he’d actually destroy himself.”

“
I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“
Yeah. Thanks.” With a sigh, Troy looked down and met Brian’s gaze. “Guess we both have our crap to deal with, huh?”

“
I think it’s safe to say.” Brian itched to hug him, but he got up and tried for a bad joke. “With all this baggage, it’s amazing the jet took off at all.”

Troy laughed, and something warm and wonderful spread through Brian. “We have island spa day, and clearly we need therapy day too,” Troy said. “We’ll take turns being the shrink.”

“
Sounds like a plan.” It was strange how Brian’s heart beat too fast. “Thank you for listening.”

“
You too.”

“
I guess we should hug it out or something.” Brian laughed awkwardly.

Troy was already moving. “Totally.” He wrapped his arms around Brian and slapped his back.

Brian slapped his in return, but when they should have stepped away from each other…they didn’t. Instead, they hung on tightly. It should have been completely weird, but Brian couldn’t seem to care.

It felt so
good.

He breathed deeply, inhaling sweat and sand and Troy’s unique scent. He slowly rubbed his hand up and down Troy’s back, the ribbed cotton of the tank top soft. With a little exhale, Troy leaned his head down onto Brian’s shoulder.

This isn’t normal. What the hell am I doing? Guys don’t hug each other like this. We have to stop, or else…

His hand was at Troy’s neck now, playing with the growing curls there seemingly of its own accord.

Or else what?

He held his breath as Troy’s hand slid down his back to his waist, where his tank top must have bunched up. A shiver ricocheted through Brian as Troy’s fingers brushed over his bare skin. Warm and—

The honking chorus of the parrots going to breakfast exploded from the edge of the jungle, and Brian stumbled back, both he and Troy leaping apart. Troy landed on his ass in the sand, and they stared at the bright swarm of parrots on a nearby tree. They both laughed, Troy’s full lips curving up.

Brian reached his hand down, ignoring the flare of heat as Troy took it.

On his feet again, Troy brushed off his shorts. “Looks like the tide is coming in. I’m going to fish for our breakfast.”

“
Cool. I’ll…” He waved his hand uselessly. “See you in a while.” Brian busied himself with even more firewood. He’d made things awkward enough for one day.

“
Sing something.”

With a laugh, Troy turned his gaze from a cluster of stars they’d dubbed “Toucan Sam” to Brian. “What? No!”

“
Why not?” Brian was stretched out on a blanket next to Troy’s, propped lazily on one elbow, facing the fire and prodding it with a stick. Brian’s cargo shorts were low on his hips, his bare chest catching the colors of the flames. He poked Troy’s knee with his toe. “Come on.”

Laughing, Troy slapped his foot away. “No way.” Sitting cross-legged, he chewed on roasted papaya seeds.

“
But you’re a singer! Come on. Entertain me.” Brian’s low voice rippled with amusement and teasing, and Troy couldn’t help but smile to hear it. Brian was lighter, like he’d popped a blister and now the skin was healing over. Troy felt better himself after telling Brian about his dad. And hugging afterward had been… He didn’t know the right word.

“
Come on,” Brian repeated. “You hum all the time. I know you want to sing.”

“
Only if you sing along.”

“
Oh no. Trust me, you do
not
want that. Although it would surely scare away any jungle creatures considering a raid on our camp.”

“
That bad, huh?”

“
Worse.” Brian tilted his head. “Come on. What are you, shy? You’ve performed for millions of screaming girls. Will it help if I swoon and cry?”

Troy shook his head, still smiling. “That won’t be necessary.”

“
So you’ll do it?” Brian grinned. “We need some entertainment around here.” He tipped his head and motioned to the blanket of stars. “We’ve tapped out our admittedly limited knowledge of constellations. Need to change things up.”

We could jerk each other off again.

Troy could feel his cheeks flame. All day he’d been thinking about it. He shouldn’t have, but after sleeping with Brian in his arms, he wanted to feel him close. Wanted Brian’s hand on him. Wanted to touch Brian. Wanted…

His dick swelled, nipples hardening in the still, humid air. Would Brian notice? Even if he did, he wouldn’t know that Troy wanted…

Things I shouldn’t even think about.

He had to get in control. They’d opened up to each other, and Troy had never felt so close to anyone in his whole life. Even Ty or his mom. It was a different sort of closeness with Brian. But that didn’t mean he should want anything…inappropriate. It was probably like Stockholm syndrome or something, minus the captivity. He and Brian were bonding, and it was clearly confusing him.

He wasn’t into dudes. The end.

Troy looked up at Toucan Sam. One of the stars glimmered more brightly, and he imagined it was the bird’s eye. “Yeah, change things up. Although the stars are the one thing on this island I don’t get sick of.”

“
Definitely. Wait!” Brian jerked his gaze back to Troy. “The
one
thing?”

Trying to keep a straight face, Troy shrugged. “Well, I guess there’s one other thing I’m not sick of.”

“
I should hope so,” Brian said with an exaggerated drawl.

“
Fresh papaya. There’s nothing better.”

Brian kicked at him playfully, and Troy tossed a handful of sand and said, “Oh wait, I forgot getting to swim in the ocean every day. Okay, three things.”

They battled with sand for a few more seconds, their laughter filling the night. With a huff and toss of his thick hair that was getting shaggy over his ears, Brian leaned back on his elbow again, giving Troy’s hip a final poke with his toe. “You have to sing now that you’ve hurt my feelings so cruelly.”

“
I guess I do.” Troy still sat cross-legged on his blanket, and he wriggled his butt into the sand, lifting up straighter from his waist and clearing his throat. It was totally dumb, but his chest tightened and he tapped his fingers against his knees nervously. “Um, which song?”

“
I dunno. Anything.”

He ran through Next Up’s catalog in his head. Would Brian like any of those? They were kind of generic, but what the hell. Troy took a sip of water from his battered bottle and closed his eyes. “Angels Everyday” was an up-tempo piece. He launched into the first verse, and God, his voice was out of practice.

The song was basically about nice people doing nice things, and man, it was super lame now that he sang it acoustically and paid more attention to the words he’d heard a zillion times, wondering what Brian would think of them.

He kept his eyes closed, feeling the heat of Brian’s gaze on his face, and really, really wanting to stop. But he plowed on through the lilting chorus and second verse, doing the bridge and then cutting the final chorus short. The last note faded away, and he swallowed hard, waiting for the derision surely coming.

“
That was lovely.”

Troy peeked over, but Brian wasn’t smirking. He was still stretched out, regarding Troy seriously. “Really?” Troy asked. “I’m super pitchy.”

“
I don’t think so. Not that I’m an expert, but you sound terrific. You really do have a great voice.”