Ruin Porn (26 page)

And just like that, the tension in the room eased a fraction. Finn was still pissed at Evin, but he set it aside for the sake of the band as a whole. Once they started playing again, Sid got his prayers answered and then some.

Despite him and Evin not talking or even looking at each other, Rez laid down a hell of a lot more than a few minutes of usable tunes over the next two hours.

T
HE
TWANG
of banjos and fiddles filled the honky-tonk on the outskirts of Nashville as a bluegrass band played on a small stage protected by chicken wire. On the dance floor, patrons whirled and twirled in a two-step fashion. The music wasn’t Evin’s style—the whooping and hollering was causing the throb that had settled into his temples to scream—but the beer was cold and cheap, and they’d managed to get their shit together and make music after Sid’s tirade.

Evin took a sip of his beer and stole yet another glance at Finn. Evin supposed it didn’t matter where he was, some redneck bar or Disneyland, his focus would always be on Finn when he was near, and that wasn’t how this whole detachment thing was supposed to work.

They’d barely said two words to each other since the airport and the standoff was starting to drive Evin nuts. He kept waiting for Finn to bring up the topic of Alessandra, but then again, he supposed they’d have to be actually talking for that to happen. With the way Finn was steadfastly refusing to look at him or acknowledge Evin’s presence at all, he doubted that was going to be happening anytime soon.

Four beers in, Evin needed some room to breathe and excused himself to head to the bathroom. He relieved himself and had just turned on the taps when the door flew open.

“Okay look,” Ritchie started, a frantic catch in his voice. “I can’t stand this tension a second longer. I’m getting an ulcer. You need to talk to Finn.”

“Why? He’s not talking to me,” Evin responded with complete calm as he washed his hands and dried them.

“Ev—”

“What?”

“Give the guy a break. He’s not happy about this Alessandra thing any more than you are.”

Fuck
, he was way too transparent. Evin tipped his chin up. “Look, it’s not like Finn and I are anything but friends. He doesn’t owe me an explanation. So he can choose to tell me about whatever the fuck is going on when he wants.”

“He’s not going to do that.”

“Well, guess we’re at a stalemate, then. I suggest you get some Prilosec or something for that gut.” He wadded up the paper towel and tossed it into the can. He started to leave, but Ritchie moved to block him.

“Both of you are being thick-headed, stubborn assholes.” Evin opened his mouth to say something, but Ritchie held up a hand. “I told him he should have told you about Alessandra, but he refused. He thought it would give credence to something he views as bullshit. Alessandra is a KMA Music artist who needs promo, that’s it between her and Finn. But what he’s really pissed off about is that you didn’t ask him to explain that, you just acted like the two of you are strangers—not even friends, let alone more. Look, kid, Finn is pissed
because
he gives a shit about you. He should’ve told you days ago about the stunt, but he didn’t. You should’ve asked him what was going on, but you didn’t. Now you’re both stubborn pricks who are refusing to talk to each other for no good reason. And I’m begging you to be the one to take a hit on this one because Finn can dig his heels in for much less. You’ve seen him with Miah when they really go at each other. I can see the way he looks at you, Ev. There’s more there and he doesn’t know how to handle it, so he’s fucking it up. And I think you’re doing the same thing.”

Evin fought back the bile that sloshed around his stomach with too many cheap beers. “Fuck.”

Ritchie’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah. Fuck. You two need to talk. Apologize, let him apologize, and then kiss and make up. Because I’m telling you right now, I’ll end up beating the hell out of both of you if I have to put up with this bullshit on tour. You two get this shit sorted, and then we’ll ditch Miah and there will be mind-blowing orgasms as a reward—with me or without me, I’m cool either way. You in?”

Guilt, shame, and embarrassment caused Evin’s gut to fall. Why the hell hadn’t he just talked to Finn in the first place? Was he really mimicking his parents’ behavior and thinking that was the
right
way to deal with this? He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll talk to him,” he assured Ritchie.

E
VIN
WAS
a bundle of nerves waiting for just the right moment to approach Finn. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity the night before; the crowded honky-tonk wasn’t the right setting. He’d hoped to do so once they’d checked into the hotel, but they’d been mauled by fans when their hotel was leaked. The swarm of Rezors turned into an hour of signing autographs and posing for a thousand and one photos. Evin ended up staying out with the fans the longest, unwilling to tell any of them no. By the time he’d made it upstairs, he found out Finn had switched rooms with a grumpy-ass Ritchie. At that point in the night, sleep had been more important than talking.

So of course, just to fuck with him, Ritchie had woken him by screaming “Five minutes till gym time, let’s go, go, go!” and increasing Evin’s misery by jerking the covers off him and throwing them to the floor. When Evin lifted his head to attempt shooting actual laser beams from his eyes at Ritchie, he caught sight of Finn standing in the door in his gym clothes. Evin froze.

He was supposed to be finding a way to open up communication lines again. Right.

Evin opened his mouth, and Finn walked out.

Ritchie sighed. “Let’s get all sweaty. See how that stirs things up.”

Straining while lifting, running, and stretching while covered in sweat and stink hadn’t felt like the right moment either. It was definitely the right time for leering, but not for talking.

Now as he sat chewing on crispy room-service bacon in his and Ritchie’s room, Finn silent across from him, listening to Sid go on and on about tour details, Evin began to wonder if he was going to get the chance to talk to Finn alone at all before they left Nashville.

“Good morning, Resonator!” Miah yelled as he came through their door, doing a piss-poor impersonation of Robin Williams in
Good Morning, Vietnam
.

“Morning,” Evin muttered around a sip of his coffee.

“Who’s ready to hit the gym?” Miah clapped his hands together, annoyingly chipper for the funk Evin was wallowing in. Somebody obviously had a clearer conscience and had gotten more sleep than Evin had.

“You’re about two hours too late, been there done that,” Finn informed him. “Maybe you’d know that if you’d stayed in with the rest of us instead of giving that Rez groupie a story to tell her grandkids one day.”

“She better wait till they’re eighteen,” Miah remarked, snatching the bacon out of Finn’s hand and popping it in his mouth. “C’mon, Sid, you can keep me company while I sweat.”

“I was just bringing the guys up to date,” Sid argued.

Seeing his opportunity, Evin jumped on it. “It’s okay, Sid, go keep the hooker company. You know he’s going to go over it all again with us anyway. Save us from suffering—I mean, hearing it again.”

“Fine,” Sid groused. He gathered up his folder, grabbed a doughnut, and followed Miah out.

Now that they were alone, Evin’s heart started thumping wildly and the pork in his belly did a loopy twist. He didn’t know how to start, and couldn’t find the right words.

Ritchie must have known that Evin was going to take the chance while he had it, because he grabbed his napkin, wiped his mouth, and started to rise. But Evin grabbed his thigh under the table and discreetly shook his head when Ritchie looked to him. He not only needed Ritchie’s support, but if he started to screw this up, Ritchie could intervene. Ritchie pushed his lips into a flat line, but to Evin’s relief, he stayed.

“Um… so… yeah. I’ve been trying to find the right time to apologize for being a dick at the airport, Finn.”

Finn’s head snapped up and he glared at Ritchie. “Did you fucking say something to him?”

Ritchie held up his hands. “I didn’t say nothing.”

“Tell me what?” Evin asked, playing dumb. The last thing they needed was for Finn to be pissed at Ritchie too.

Finn looked back and forth between Evin and Ritchie, suspicion furrowing his brow. “Nothing,” he finally said. “Go on.”

“Right before I got on the plane, I saw the photo of you”—
my heart broke
—“and I got it in my head that we’re supposed to be friends and share shit like that and you hadn’t told me about her and what you’d been doing and…. Look, I know I should have just talked to you and asked instead of going all boiled bunny on you. I should have trusted you.”

Finn stared at him for several ticks of the clock, and Evin had no clue how to interpret if Finn had listened to him, let alone believed him. If he’d thought waiting for the chance to acknowledge the 800-pound gorilla in the room had been tough, then the seconds Finn stared at him without saying a word felt like an eternity.

“I shouldn’t have flipped out either, Ev,” Finn finally said and looked down at his empty plate. “Miah’s dickishness must be contagious.”

Evin’s lips tipped into a smile as relief flooded through him with Finn’s sarcastic remark. They were talking and joking. This he could do. No, this is what he
wanted
to do every day with Finn for as long as he had the chance. Maybe Ritchie was right. “So now that we’ve wasted twenty-four hours on this shit, how we gonna make up?”

Ritchie grinned. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m a big fan of the kiss and make up approach.”

“Think you may have an idea there, Ritchie,” Finn murmured, meeting Evin’s gaze from beneath his long lashes, a wicked grin curling his lips. He pointed to his lap. “You see, I got this itch. Right here.”

The seductive tone of Finn’s voice caused Evin’s blood to make a mad dash south, igniting his arousal instantly and Evin threw his cloth napkin at Finn’s head in retaliation. “You’re an asshole! You know that, right? I thought you were seriously stubborn enough not to let this go, let alone jump from the silent treatment to blow jobs in one breath.”

Finn crossed his forearms over his face to protect himself from Evin’s linen attack as he laughed. “Nah, Ev. Couldn’t stay mad at those sparkling hazels. They’re irresistible, right, Ritchie?”

Ritchie put his hands over his heart and swooned. “Always.”

Finn cleared his throat. “But seriously, you can trust me, Ev. The Alessandra thing is nothing, doesn’t deserve the oxygen I just used to mention it.”

Evin pushed his plate away and rested his elbows on the table, taking in Finn’s words and holding them close. ’Cause fuck detachment. Everything was right in his world when Finn focused on him like that. “Okay.”

H
IS
DICK
was just as happy as his heart, so Ritchie bowed out of the naked wrestling match going on in the bed. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have minded entering the ring and doing a little takedown so to speak, but Finn and Evin needed some time alone. Neither would admit it, but they were crazy for each other, and neither knew how to handle it. He’d go as far to say that falling in love with the other downright scared the shit out of both of them.

It was way too late for that
, Ritchie thought as he set the taps on the shower and stepped under the flow. The hot water beat down on his back, making him hum with contentment, but the warmth couldn’t match the way he felt inside. The fight between Finn and Evin had been painful to watch and he was thankful it was over. He was more than a little relieved that unresolved tension wouldn’t be heading to Morocco with them.

He took his time, showering, shaving, brushing his teeth, primping; ensuring the guys had plenty of alone time to finish making up. He could hear the muffled sounds of Evin and Finn, almost like they were laughing, rather than moaning. He leaned against the counter, not wanting to end the happy moment the two were obviously sharing, but a knock at the hotel door had him moving. It had to be Miah, and he rushed out into the room, his mind flipping through excuses for why the security lock was engaged.

Finn had his jeans on and Evin was in the process of putting his on when Ritchie rushed out. “Hurry up,” Ritchie whispered. The knock came again. Ritchie’s hand hovered over the lock and waited for Evin to do up his pants and take a seat back at the table. Finn chose to sit on the bed, both hands resting on the mattress, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Ritchie said a silent prayer, hoping the lingering room service breakfast was enough to cover up the scents of sex.

Ritchie flipped the lock and opened the door. “Sorry—oh, Sid. I thought you were Miah. C’mon in.”

“He’s coming,” Sid said as he walked into the room. “He stopped to grab some gum.”

Ritchie closed the door behind them and took a seat at the table next to Evin. Sid surveyed the room, taking in the rumpled bed linens, Evin’s and Finn’s tousled hair, and the state of dress of all three of them…. and Ritchie could see the pieces falling into place inside Sid’s mind.

Ritchie’s stomach sank.

Shit.

Both Evin and Finn seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when Sid launched directly into plans for the day, but from where Ritchie was standing, he could see Sid’s fingers curled into a fist, muscles bunching as he glared at Finn and Evin and took in more of the details in the room.

Maybe that tension would be following them to Morocco after all.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Morocco

F
INN
HADN
’
T
known what to expect when he landed at that honeycomb-shaped airport in Marrakech, but it hadn’t been for there to be the familiarity of a McDonald’s waiting for him.

“Are they in every country?” Finn mumbled and wiped the sleep from his eyes. They had one security guy trailing them and another waiting for Miah where he’d gone into the bathroom after they landed. But Finn didn’t want to wait for Miah, he was too excited to see Evin again.