We Have Till Monday by Cara Dee (moboreader .TXT) 📕

up to this view…?” She gestured toward the paddocks that were cloaked in darkness now. “Thank you for letting us stay here, August.”

“It’s our pleasure,” he responded. “Camden and I have gotten a little too good at closin’ ourselves in. Having Anthony with us this week has made me miss hostin’ dinners.”

I put my hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze.

It opened up a new conversation—about family dinners, parties, and barbecues—and I was content just to listen. Nicky filled in for me anyway. He spoke animatedly about our holidays and how we spent them, and how Nonna had mercilessly pushed us down the ranks in favor of Gideon lately.

I grinned.

“I can relate to that,” Camden chimed in. “My family prefers August over me.”

August chuckled. “Because you and your brothers are constantly raisin’ hell.”

“Pshh!” Camden waved that off. “We show one another love. You wouldn’t get it.”

I met Nicky’s smirk and nodded at Camden. “He grew up similarly to us but abandoned Staten Island for the South early on.”

Nicky widened his eyes. “I’d abandon Staten Island too, man.”

“Ay!” Camden sucked his teeth. It was the first time I’d really seen the remnants of a New Yorker in him. Cute.

I had to broach the next topic—my heart demanded it—but I decided straightaway to stay out of the trash talk that was bound to follow. So I mentioned to my brother that Camden was a Mets fan, and I told Gideon, who rooted for the Yankees, that he had a friend in August. Of course, it got Chris and Luiz going too.

I grabbed my beer, took a swig, and sat back again, pleased as punch.

When everyone was loud, you knew you were among family.

Saturday was meant to be the highlight of my whole stay in Nashville.

Instead, it felt like I was just going through the motions. A part of me had shut down, and I didn’t get it. I knew why; it was because I was leaving soon. But feeling nothing sucked hard.

It showed, too. Before we were off to Murfreesboro, August asked me twice if everything was okay. Nicky kept giving me looks too, and I blew it at the rehearsal. My singing was off, I missed cues, and I fucked up the transition between several songs.

I couldn’t get into it.

And I should. This was a dream come true for the young punk in me who’d once dreamed of becoming a rock star. It was gonna be a big festival, and crew was running around all over the place. The sun shone down on us, people were hollering orders and instructions, tents were being assembled, delivery trucks fought over parking spaces, and various bands performed soundcheck.

Forty-five thousand tickets sold. Eighteen bands. Food trucks, beer tents, the whole nine yards. Everything was going to come together on this massive field in the middle of the woods.

“Yo, everybody take ten,” Nicky ordered.

I made a face and set down my guitar in its stand, then watched the others walk off the stage.

We had everything set up the way we wanted it for tonight. Choir in the back next to the drums, Sylvia on the keyboard, my Hammond organ next to it, Chris with his bass next to our amps, and then Nicky and me at the front.

Nicky lifted a brow at me. “You wanna tell me why I’m here listening to you dying when I coulda been with Gid at the hotel pool right now?”

I blew out a breath and slumped down in front of my Hammond. “Thanks for sugarcoating that.”

“You’re welcome. Thought you needed it.” He uncapped his bottle of water and sat down on the stage floor. “Last year, you helped me when I didn’t know if Gideon and I were gonna happen. Something tells me I’ll be able to return the favor soon.”

I side-eyed him. “I don’t know what tells you that. August, Camden, and I aren’t becoming a thing.”

“They’re called triads, I think.” He smiled.

I knew the goddamn term.

“Don’t you have a few buddies who’re in triads?” he asked. “The concept can’t be that foreign to you.”

“It’s not.” I furrowed my brow. “I don’t think you and I are on the same page here, Nicky. There’s no relationship to speak of.”

“Uh-huh.” He scratched his nose, not believing me for shit. “You can’t tell me you don’t want a relationship with them, though. None’a youse can. Fuck’s sake, you couldn’t go ten minutes without checkin’ in with one another yesterday. If August wasn’t coming over to you, you were going over to wherever he was. And you both sought out Camden.” He paused and tilted his head. “There’s kink involved, isn’t there?”

I reckoned we hadn’t done the best job hiding that fact. Plus, Nicky had his own kink dynamic with Gideon, though I didn’t believe it ran as deep, but it was probably enough for him to see the signs.

“Yeah.” The confirmation was only for the last part. “As for the rest—it’s too soon. It’s been a week.”

He found that funny. “Don’t bore me with that bullshit. Chemistry’s pretty much instant, Anthony. Either you want more, or you don’t. You don’t gotta promise your undying love just because you admit you want more with them.”

I shot him an irritated look and felt frustration building up. We didn’t have time for this discussion. The next band had their rehearsal in half an hour.

“Of course I wanna see them again,” I said impatiently. “We’ve talked about it.” Kind of. “We don’t wanna rip off the Band-Aid. We’ll visit each other or something.” Then I had to be honest. “But you know the reality too, Nicky. These things never last. I already went through it with Charles. Eventually, you return home.”

He wasn’t satisfied with my response, though he had nothing to say at first. He hugged his knees loosely and rested his chin on his shoulder, and he looked out over the festival area.

I handled his arguments a lot better than his silence, and I felt the need to defend myself.

“I’m