After a while, they slipped into an easy rhythm, getting so lost in the song that whatever tension had existed between them drained away into the night. A few times they’d paused to add more wood to the fire, and they’d each taken a couple bathroom breaks too. At one point, Tripp went in and grabbed them something to drink while Dez played with the melody, sharing a deviation in the rhythm with Tripp when he’d returned.
They played with that until Dez’s eyes widened and his hands went lax on the strings. The fact that he was staring past Tripp was making him a little paranoid. There wasn’t horror on Dez’s face though, but a look of astonishment and wonder. Turning, Tripp realized that they’d played so long, and gotten so lost in the creative process, that the starry night had given way to a shimmering dawn, the sun casting pink, orange and rose streaks across the sky.
Tripp sat in silent awe, watching the sun paint the sky several more hues before Dez’s yawn reminded him that he wasn’t alone.
“I think I’m gonna crash and catch a couple hours of sleep while Riley is still sleeping.”
“Are you two back on again.”
“No,” Dez admitted, followed by a heavy sigh. “But we figured we’d spend some time hanging out and trying to have fun together so it wouldn’t be so awkward when we got back on the road.”
“Shit….I’m….”
Dez abruptly cut him off, snarling as he hurled a rock over the edge of the gorge. “Quit apologizing! All of this is on me! I’m a coward. I hate losing people and when it feels like that’s going to happen, I cut them lose and take off so I’m not the one left behind again.”
Tripp stared slack jawed as tears welled up in Dez’s eyes. Before he could say anything, Dez angrily wiped them away and shoved the guitar back in its case.
“Whether you leave, or they leave, you still lose them,” Tripp pointed out, keeping his voice low. It might not have been the right thing to say, but Tripp didn’t know what was in this situation.
“I know. But I don’t have to like it.”
“Do you think any of us do?”
Dez’s eyes narrowed into a pointed glare, his hands skimming over the lid until he reached the locks, the sharp metallic thunk of them closing drawing the ire of a nearby bird. Its tweets turned to screeches before it rapidly flew away.
“You can lose someone even when they’re right in front of you,” Tripp said. “Trust me, I know. It’s what happened to me and Winter.”
The aggression bled out of Dez eyes, leaving them a little bloodshot and exhausted.
“Thanks for helping with the song.”
A little shrug and a half-smile was better than Dez’s defeated look. “It’s what I do.”
“Maybe. But I doubt anyone knows just how well you do it.”
Judging from the scoffed snort Dez let out when he staggered to his feet, Tripp could tell he didn’t believe his actions meant much of anything.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Tripp blurted as Dez turned to walk away.
“Fine.”
“How much outside of the music have you gotten to know Zakk?”
“Oh come on, are we back to this shit again?”
“No, not at all. I’ve been trying to figure out something to surprise Zakk with, and I’ve hit a brick wall. This whole desert thing was kinda sprung on me. I realized the other night that he’d listed off a bunch of things I liked, but never told me what he was most looking forward to.”
Dez’s smile spread like the colors in the sky, slow, but brightening everything it touched. There was no hesitation in his response either. “Arrange a hot air balloon ride. He’s been curious and no one in the band will go up with him.”
“Even you?”
“I don’t mind heights, but I was trying to do better when it came to paying attention to my boyfriend instead of yours.”
“Much appreciated.” Tripp stroked his chin, contemplating Dez’s suggestion. He had always been curious about those balloons himself, and with the sky here being so blue and endless, he could only imagine what the view would be like.
And it would be a first he and Zakk could share together, that was something to appreciate too.
“I did look into it, when we talked about coming out here,” Dez said, crashing the silence that had formed between them. He was swaying too, and several feet away from where he’d been when Tripp had last looked at him. Oh, yeah, he had said he was going in. Only, rather than turning away, he was fishing around in his pocket.