“Trey’s a little down. I figured he could use a party.”
“So you’re here for his sake?”
“Completely. I don’t really mingle well.”
Dare chuckled. “Me neither. Everyone thinks I’m mysterious and deep. I’m just antisocial.”
Reagan grinned up at him. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Dare shrugged. “Why is Trey down?” His gaze shifted toward the bar and Reagan followed his line of sight to see Trey talking and laughing with some A-list actor as if they were old friends.
Reagan wondered if Dare knew about Brian. It seemed like he knew everything about Trey, but maybe it was something that Trey hadn’t confided to him. She didn’t want to toss any bones out of Trey’s closet of skeletons without his permission.
“Let me guess,” Dare said, lifting his finger at another approaching person to head them off before they got too close. “Brian.”
“You know how he feels about Brian?”
“I’m surprised he told you. He thinks it’s this huge secret, but anyone with eyes knows how he feels about the guy.”
“I didn’t know. I always thought there was something different about their relationship, but had no idea Trey’s feelings were so strong.”
“He must be getting better at hiding it then.”
They watched Trey get a bro-slap hug from a professional football player before the guy started acting out passes and touchdowns at Trey’s enthusiastic insistence. Trey still hadn’t made it to the bar.
“I told him that he should talk to Brian about it,” Reagan said. “He didn’t seem to think that was a good idea.”
“He’s made a lot of progress since he met you, Reagan. He’s been struggling with this for a long time. Before all he could think about was ways to get Brian to fall for him. Now he’s trying to figure out how to let him go. Be patient with him.”
“How do you think Brian would react if he knew?”
“I’m sure Brian already knows. He’s just too nice to tell my brother to get his head out of his ass.” Dare finished his drink and set his empty glass on a nearby table that held a guitar-shaped ice sculpture. “Brian’s not stupid, just sort of… non-confrontational. Especially when it comes to those he loves.”
“He loves Trey too?”
“Not romantically. Did Trey tell you how they hooked up?”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “They hooked up?”
“I guess he didn’t tell you. If you want to know, ask him about it.” Dare laughed. “Look, he made it to the bar.”
Reagan turned her attention back to Trey, who was having beers stuffed into the waistband of his jeans by several women. And men. Squirming, he tried to avoid having additional beverages shoved in his pants, while he placed his order with the bartender. She could tell he was having a great time already.
“What an attention whore,” Dare said. He grinned at his brother’s antics while shaking his head in disgrace.
“You’re not fooling me, Dare Mills. Your kid brother means more to you than any other person on the planet.”
“Can’t deny it. If it weren’t for him, I would have died before my sixth birthday.”
Reagan’s head whipped up to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“I had acute myeloid leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant. Trey was a match, so he was my donor.”
“He never told me that.”
“He knows about it but doesn’t remember it. He was only two, but he is still terrified of hospitals, so it had to have some lasting effect on him. Have you seen the size of the needles they use to remove bone marrow? I have.” He shuddered.
Reagan wrapped both arms around Dare and gave him a hard squeeze.
He patted her back and asked, “What was that for?”
“For living.”
He chuckled. “You should hug Trey, not me. He’s the hero.”
“Oh, trust me, Trey is going to get a lot of hugs. Do leg hugs count?”
“I’m sure he’d think so.”
She gazed across the room to the bar where Trey was trapped between some guy who had a three-foot-tall, lime green mohawk and a Hollywood socialite with a yapping Chihuahua in her purse. Both hands full with stiff drinks, Trey smiled, nodded, and chatted as he inched his way back in their direction. “If he ever escapes his fan club.”
“Is this the line for Reagan hugs?” a deep voice said from behind her. She turned and grabbed Steve in a bear hug. He returned her hug enthusiastically. She couldn’t help but notice how great those strong drummer arms felt wrapped around her body. Even though the concert had ended two hours before, he still wasn’t wearing a shirt with his low-cut leather pants. “Are you two having a guitarist meeting over here?” Steve asked. “I noticed Dare has erected his invisible barrier of cool to ward off the ass-kissers. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your private party.”
“We’re just talking,” Reagan said.
“About the show?” Steve asked, giving Reagan one last squeeze before releasing her. “I figured we’d f**k up a lot more than we did. The first show of a new tour is usually the worst. It went well, don’t you think?”
She nodded. “Even though I was scared to death.”
Steve rubbed her back. “You did great, sweetie. Even Max said so.”
“I think he liked being just a front man,” Dare said. “He got even more involved with the crowd than usual. He might want to keep this arrangement after his wrist heals.” Dare winked at Reagan and she had to remind herself that she was a rock star now and should not be shrieking with enthusiasm.
“He’s been trolling the Internet for reviews all night,” Steve said. “He won’t admit this to anyone, but he really does care what people say about us.”
Dare chuckled. “Max? No way. He’s too cool to care.”
“Sure,” Steve said.
“I go off to get the lady a drink and as soon as I turn my back, she starts feeling up her band members,” Trey said with an exaggerated scowl.
“Trey, I did not feel up any of my band’s members,” Reagan said and accepted her drink. “At least not in public.”
Steve burst out laughing. “You kill me, Reagan. Really.” He pulled a bottle of beer out of the waistband of Trey’s pants. “Thanks. I could use a cold one.” He twisted off the bottle cap and took a long swallow before flicking the bottle cap at Trey. “What’s up, Dare’s lil’ bro?”