Trey chuckled. Father and son both had tufts of black hair sticking up in all directions.
“I hope he has your brains,” Brian said.
“And your talent,” Myrna added.
“He’s perfect,” Trey said, unable to resist the impulse to smooth Malcolm’s fuzzy hair with his palm. It did no good. The baby’s downy black hair immediately returned to standing on end.
“You’ll be his godfather then?” Brian asked.
Trey lifted his gaze to Brian’s. As if he could deny him anything. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Brian smiled. “I think you need to get busy, Mills—find yourself a nice girl and make Malcolm a best friend. You’re already nine months behind.”
“Ha! Like that’s ever going to happen,” Trey said flippantly, but something inside him wanted that. Wanted something he and Brian could share. Pride of their respective sons. He could almost picture Malcolm and Trey Junior playing together in the backyard, learning how to play guitar together, getting into mischief, growing. Trey Junior? What the f**k was he thinking? There would never be a Trey Junior. He didn’t even like kids. Not even cute little shits who were cursed with the name Malcolm Trey. The baby cooed and Trey melted into a puddle of mush. Okay, so there was one exception to his dislike of kids, but only one.
“I should probably leave you three alone so you can bond as a family or whatever.”
“You can stay,” Myrna said. “You’re part of our family.”
He appreciated the gesture, but Trey knew better. Things would never go back to the way they’d been before Myrna had crashed onto the scene. He’d been sulking over it long enough. It was time to finally let Brian go. As agonizing as that decision was for Trey, he’d lost all hope of Brian ever returning his feelings. Brian belonged to Myrna. Belonged with Myrna. And Malcolm. Trey had been fooling himself into thinking Brian might eventually come to think of him as more than a friend, but now he didn’t even want him to. He wanted Brian to continue to be a wonderful husband and an amazing daddy. Myrna deserved that. Malcolm deserved that. Trey couldn’t interfere with something that important. It wouldn’t be right.
“You know I hate hospitals,” Trey said. “I’m going to go see what Dare is up to. Hang out with my big bro in his McMansion until we have to head back to the tour bus. You can call me if you need me to change a diaper or something.”
“You’re willing to change diapers?” Brian asked.
Trey chuckled at his startled expression.
Trey glanced down at little Malcolm who was making a face that led Trey to believe he was already cooking up a ripe diaper in his honor. “Nah, but I’m sure I can talk some sweet fangirl into doing it for me.” He winked at Brian.
“You will not use my son as a chick magnet, Mills,” Brian said.
Trey laughed and then bent over the bed to offer Myrna a hug. She met his eyes and cupped his cheek. “You okay?” she whispered, seeming to recognize that Trey was moving beyond his infatuation with her husband. Giving up on Brian. Letting her win. She’d been infinitely patient with him. And trusting of her husband. Because she’d recognized the truth far sooner than Trey had. Brian didn’t love him—not the way he wanted him to—and he never would.
Trey leaned closer and whispered, “Love him enough for both of us. Okay? Just promise me that.”
Her hand pressed against the back of his head as she hugged him close. “I will. I promise.”
When he stood upright, he offered Brian a vigorous, one-armed bro hug. He met Brian’s intense brown-eyed gaze steadily. “Good-bye.” He could scarcely get the word out through his constricted chest and throat. Brian obviously had no clue that there was significance behind that single word of farewell.
“Later,” Brain said. “If I don’t see you before, we have a show tomorrow night.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Trey said with a smile.
Brian’s gaze shifted to his son’s face. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. Trey could practically see his separation anxiety and pictured Brian onstage with a baby sling strapped to his chest above his electric guitar and tiny, sound-blocking headphones on Malcolm’s fuzzy head. So not Sinners’ style. But totally Brian’s.
Trey kissed Malcolm’s forehead. “See you soon, godson. Don’t break too many hearts.”
Brian chuckled. “Look who’s talking.”
Trey left the room, forcing himself not to look back at the scene of domestic bliss he left behind. He really needed to do something fun to take his mind off things. Something or someone. What he needed was sex. His drug of choice.
The pretty, young nurse who had woken him with smelling salts stood just outside the delivery room door. When he walked past her, she perked up and grabbed his arm. She’d been waiting for him. Too easy.
“Hey,” she said breathlessly. “Hey, um, Trey, right?”
He offered her a crooked grin, and she flushed before lowering her wide blue eyes to his chest. He watched her, noting the submission in her stance, the way she swayed toward him slightly. The way her thumb stroked his bare arm just above his elbow.
“Um…” she pressed onward. “I was just about to take a break and wondered if you’d like to go grab a cup of coffee with me.”
Trey’s heart rate kicked up a notch. He turned and took her firmly by both wrists, pressing her back against the wall, their bodies separated by mere inches. He bent his head so his breath would caress her ear as he spoke to her in a low voice. “You don’t want coffee.”
Her pulse raced out of control beneath his fingertips. “I don’t?”
“No, but I know what you do want.”
“What’s that?” Her dark blue eyes flicked upward to meet his. She’d already surrendered, and he rarely turned down a good time.
“A hard, slow f**k against the wall.”
“Here?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
He didn’t dare laugh. That would have broken his spell over her. “In that supply closet.” He nodded down the hall.
He held her gaze in challenge, daring her to deny him. She tore her gaze from his and peeked around his body for witnesses before grabbing a handful of his shirt, racing down the hall, unlocking the supply closet, and dragging him inside. The instant the door closed, she wrapped both arms around his neck and plastered her mouth to his. He let her kiss him. Let her touch the hoop piercing his eyebrow and the ones in his ear. He’d show her the one in his nipple, but she was still a little skittish and he knew if he took the upper hand too quickly, she’d balk and either leave or pretend he’d taken advantage of her.