Nathan watched him dress in the same pair of worn-out jeans. He grabbed the only clean t-shirt left in the closet. It was Nathan's Semper Fi shirt and it hung on his slender frame. The red suited him.
"I thought we could maybe make it an extended road trip … Is there room on the bus for two extra people?" He had no idea why he was afraid to ask if he could go on tour with his lover. He was terrified.
"You want to … with me … ?" Quinn looked stunned. "Tour. You want to go with me?"
"Yeah, unless you'd prefer I didn't. I could stay here with Emma. Or at the house in Florida."
"No, no. I mean. Yes. I want you to come with me. I want to bring Emma. I don't want to be alone. I hate being alone. It will be the best road trip. So many concerts. So many places to see. It'll be like we're a real family."
"We are a real family." Nathan reached for him. He cupped Quinn's face. "I love you. There's nothing you can do to make me stop loving you. I need to … I need to get out of here for a while. I need to be with you. I need to … live, Quinn. I need to live. I want to live with you."
Quinn nodded. His eyes glimmering in the dim light. He started to say something, but Nathan kissed him. There would be plenty of time later to argue. Quinn melted against him. His tongue brushed Nathan's lips gently. Nathan groaned and broke the kiss. "You're driving."
Quinn grinned and grabbed his wallet and keys; he didn't bother with shoes or luggage. Nathan closed his case and turned off the lamp and without a second's hesitation, he followed Quinn out to the car.
Epilogue
He'd forgotten how much he loved Tennessee in the summer. Seems like it had been years since he'd last come home. Instead of just a few weeks ago. Seemed odd that he was back here. As if he was called. Something inside his chest felt tight and congested until he crossed the Tennessee state line.
"This is a quaint town." That was Mother-code for ugly. "Are you sure this is the right place, baby?"
He rode in the backseat like he was a child. He felt like a child. His father drove. His mother talked nonstop in the passenger seat. It was his childhood come back to haunt him. "It's okay. The people are nice." He didn't try to defend the architecture. The town was little more than a map dot between more populous counties. And until she'd won a place in the US Senate two years ago, this side of the state could kiss her ass for all she cared.
Banners stretched across the main street advertising the big Independence Day celebration sponsored by Truman Steel. "Just follow the banners," he said, looking around at the lack of traffic.
"Looks like a thriving little town," his father said. His father was always the pragmatic one. "They have a bookstore and a library. It's nice. And clean. I like it. Looks like the town where I grew up."
"It's not Nashville." His mother would never be small-town. They both knew this. It wasn't that she was a bad person. She just didn't understand "the little people."
"And Nashville isn't DC. And DC isn't New York. Not every place has to be the same, Arnie," his father pointed out. "I think the entire town has turned out to greet us."
"More like they're here to see whoever owns that tour bus." His mother noticed the slick black land vessel with the silver Q and A scrolling along the side.
"Quinn Anders, Mom. This is his hometown." He hadn't known what to expect when he'd decided to come back. He didn't know if they would welcome him. They hadn't called or come to see him. He'd found out this morning that his mother had controlled everything. She'd refused to let anyone anywhere near him. Finally giving in when Agent Morgan had forced her to give him access.
"There's no place to park," his father said. And if he knew his father, he'd drive right on by without even trying.
"Go over to the bus," Drew directed. He recognized the infamous Deputy Dawg standing watch in the crew zone. "Pull up by that deputy."
His dad did what he said. Drew let his window down and beckoned for the deputy. "If it isn't Deputy Dawg," he said feeling a rush of adrenaline course through his body. The look of absolute loathing on the man's face fed Drew's need to humiliate him. "I see you're pulling shit-duty. What did you do to deserve … you know, never mind, I don't really care. Clear a space for Senator Walker. And let's keep that to ourselves."
"Yes, sir, Agent Walker," the deputy said. He looked as if he'd rather eat crushed glass, but he pulled back one of the barriers behind the bus and waved the driver, in this case, Drew's father, into the restricted area. Drew rolled up his window and slumped against the glass.