“That’s what they remind me of too,” Tripp murmured, drawing Zakk’s attention to the fact that he’d caught wind of the conversation.
“And here I was thinking will o’ the wisps,” Zakk murmured, turning his attention back to the sky.
“What the hell are those?” Tripp asked.
“Swamp gas, some people say,” Dez replied. “Or fairy folk, if you wanna believe that way.”
“I thinkI’drather believe they’re living,” Kane said.
“Why?” Damien asked.
“’Cause I’d rather not imagine glowing alligator farts.”
The only sound to follow Kane’s words was the steady pop, pop, popping of the fireworks in the sky. Then Dez snickered, and Damien let out a snort.
“We have gotta find a way to use that in something,” Tripp remarked.
“I’m game,” Kane replied. “Just as long as I don’t have to smell ‘em.”
“That’s not the end I’d be worried about,” Zakk replied. “Would be a hell of a way to go, winding up an alligator’s lunch.”
There was more laughter than, all around the circle. Mellow and warm, the vibe so relaxed Zakk felt like he could wrap himself up in it. If they could keep the whole tour feeling like this, it was gonna be a hell of a thing to be a part of.
Chapter 29
Ride with the fireflies
When Tripp stepped onto his band’s RV whistlingOn the Road Again, Kane stepped directly into his path and fixed him with a withering gaze.
“I swear to fuck, if you whistle one more bar, I will dropkick you over to Tattered Angel’s bus!”
There was a moment of déjà vu, and for a handful of seconds, Tripp did stop whistling, than he lifted his chin, smirked, and started singing.
The shock on Kane’s face was immediately followed by a look of confusion as he scanned Tripp from head to toe, even snagging his arm and staring at his tattoos.
“Problem?” Tripp asked, feeling relaxed and even a little bit cheeky.
“Was checking to make sure you and Winter hadn’t switched places, ‘cause that shit sounded exactly like something he’d do.”
Snickering Tripp was about to sing another line when Kane crushed him into a hug and squeezed the breath out of him. “God, I missed you, fucker.”
Tripp spent a good fifteen seconds trying to cough his lungs back into the proper place once Kane let get of him. “Damn,” Tripp wheezed. “You just saw me last night!”
“That’s not the you I’m talking about,” Kane said, backing up so he could grab something out of the fridge.
“Yeah, you lost me.”
“I know. It’s been way too long.”
Frowning, Tripp tried to figure out what the fuck he was talking about.
“He’s right,” Bobby added, confusing Tripp more.
“I was literally gone less than thirty days, for fuck’s sake. We can’t live in each other’s back pockets, at least when we’re not on tour.”
“That’s so not what he meant,” Bobby insisted, leaning back in his seat and getting comfortable as they pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the spa behind them.
“Clearly. So, who’s gonna clue me in?” Tripp asked as he nudged Shanny over on the couch, so he could occupy his favorite spot in the corner.