Snowed In (6 page)

Nate walked away, tucking his hands into his pockets. Quinn stared after him, but didn't follow. Folding the flyer into his pocket, Quinn sighed with resignation. He was going to a strip club tonight. They were sticking together whether Nate liked it or not.

*    *    *    *    *

The bouncer at
TRIAD
checked his flyer as thoroughly as if it was a counterfeit hundred dollar bill. Quinn bit his tongue against a sarcastic remark when he gave it back, saying, “Looks legit,” and stamped Quinn's hand with an ugly black stamp in the shape of a triangle. The music abused Quinn's senses the moment he walked inside. It was loud and thumping, the beat so intrusive he couldn't hear his own thoughts. He’d always hated clubs like that – strobe lights, blaring music, a throng of people with no regard for personal space. He’d done his fair share of clubbing, but he’d never particularly enjoyed it, or felt comfortable doing it.

Looking around, Quinn couldn’t spot Nate anywhere. Then again, the club was huge, on two levels as far as he could see. It would be like looking for a needle in a very large, very dark, crowded haystack.

Making his way to the bar, Quinn was groped more times than he could count. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself he was here for Nate. At the bar, he ordered a bottle of beer, sat on one of the bar stools with his back to the bar, and waited. Nate was bound to come by the bar at some point, or at least somewhere in Quinn's view.

Two beers and half an hour later there was still no sign of Nate. Quinn was getting restless sitting here and doing nothing, but he didn't want to risk going in circles around the club and missing Nate either. The scene in front of him was getting more and more debauched as the time for the strip show approached. Professional strippers and go-go boys mixed with the crowd, getting everyone even more excited for the main event. Soon, one of the stages to Quinn's right lit up and the music abruptly changed to some sort of hip hop mix with a thumping bass rhythm. A guy in skimpy shorts, knee high socks, and not much else strutted on stage, gyrating his bubble butt in time with the music. The crowd cheered and people started throwing money at him, some beckoning him closer to the edge of the stage to tuck the notes in his shorts. The guy danced, crawled on the stage, and fooled around with the audience, letting people touch him, even smack his ass.

Quinn shook his head. He didn't want to be a stuck up prude, even in his own head, but he found absolutely nothing sexy about a guy being groped and ogled by a hundred people. Mercifully, the guy’s performance wasn’t too long and he soon departed from the stage, collecting his money. A double act followed, two guys making out and pretend fucking on stage as the crowd cheered and showered them with money.

What bothered Quinn was that there was still no sign of Nate. He was starting to doubt Nate’d even come here after their argument. What if he’d changed his mind and gone back to the hotel instead? Quinn texted him, not expecting a reply, and nearly jumped off the stool when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

I’m at the club like I told you. Don't wait up, I met these guys and I’m going to another party with them. Don't know when I’ll come back to the hotel.

Hell no!

Quinn jumped off the stool determined to find Nate before he followed people he didn't know to some party god knew where.

Luckily, after the double act had come on stage – literally – and departed, the guy that gave them the fucking flyer came out. Quinn was fairly certain he’d find Nate somewhere close to the stage.

Quinn's heart dropped when he saw Nate. He was standing next to the stage, two men on either side of him. They both had their arms around Nate, one of them kissing his neck and the other whispering something in his ear. Nate didn’t seem to mind if his relaxed posture was any indication.

Anger and jealousy overwhelmed any rational thought as Quinn barrelled towards them, earning a few disgruntled shouts from people he pushed out of his way. When he reached the trio, he grabbed one of the men and pulled him away from Nate. The guy stumbled backwards, only the crowd of bodies around them saving him from falling on his ass.

“What the fuck is your problem?” The other guy yelled, but seeing the rage in Quinn's eyes took a hasty step back from Nate.

Before Nate could react, Quinn grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him towards the exit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nate shouted, trying to loosen Quinn's hold on his arm. “Let me go, asshole.”

“Not a chance,” Quinn said without looking at him or slowing his pace. He was so fucking angry he’d throw Nate over his shoulder if he had to, but they were leaving this place.

Even though Quinn was taller and stronger, he was losing his hold on Nate as he struggled against him, fighting him every step of the way. There was no chance they’d get to the exit on the other side of the bar before Quinn was forced to let him go.

The glowing sign of the back exit caught Quinn's eye and he headed towards it. Thankfully, it was a few yards away and Quinn managed to open the door, push Nate out in front of him and slam the door after them.

The moment they stepped outside, Nate shouted, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The street was quiet, a lonely street lamp at the far end the only source of light. It was enough to see Nate’s fuming expression though.

“I’m someone who cares about you, you prick! How could you let two men you don’t know talk you into going fuck knows where? Especially when you’re not entirely sober?” Nate swayed on his feet a little but got a hold of himself, taking the distance between them and slamming his palms into Quinn's chest. Quinn staggered back, hitting the wall behind him. Nate was in his face in a flash.

“I wasn’t going anywhere with them, you moron,” he snarled. “I only sent you that text to annoy you.”

“Annoy me?” Quinn asked in disbelieve. “Why would you want to annoy me?”

“Because you owe me!” Nate yelled, and then his mouth was on Quinn's.

Nate’s kiss was nothing like he remembered. The memory of these soft, gentle, teasing lips had played in Quinn's mind on a loop for the better part of the past two years. This kiss... This kiss was forceful, angry and raw. Nate was biting his lips until Quinn was pretty sure he tasted blood. He was pummelling his tongue inside Quinn's mouth, greedily conquering every inch of it.

Quinn didn’t care. He accepted Nate’s assault, meeting him half way, fisting his hands in his shirt and kissing back as savagely as Nate was kissing him. He could taste the alcohol on Nate’s tongue, and the lemony aftertaste of the soda it was mixed with.

“You owe me,” Nate murmured between kisses, over and over again, his hands gripping Quinn's shoulders, keeping him caged between his body and the wall. “You fucking owe me.”

The sound of his voice broke Quinn's heart. It started off as angry, demanding, but as they kissed it turned into a soft, sad chant, until Nate’s voice cracked and Quinn tasted salty tears on his tongue.

“Take whatever you need, baby,” he whispered between kisses that had turned slower, the violence leaking out of them just as the fight left Nate’s body.

He crumbled in Quinn's arms, his shoulders shaking, and Quinn held him as he cried the past two years away.

Chapter nine

THE NEXT morning Quinn woke up to the door opening and closing. He squinted one eye open and saw Nate tiptoeing into the room, fully dressed and carrying a tray of food.

“What time is it?” Quinn asked, making Nate jump, spilling some orange juice.

“Fucking hell, you scared me! I thought you were sleeping!” Nate carefully placed the tray on the side table and walked over to Quinn's bed, sitting on the edge. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Quinn through lowered lashes. “I got you some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, propping himself to a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Half past ten.”

“What time did you get up?”

Nate shrugged. “Dunno. Around five? Didn't sleep much anyway.”

Quinn noticed the dark circles under Nate’s eyes and the ashen tone of his skin, but said nothing. Last night, after he’d calmed down and allowed Quinn to take him back to the hotel, Nate flopped on the bed, turned his back to Quinn and didn’t even move. He’d been quite drunk, so Quinn thought he’d passed out, and left him alone.

“I’m...” Nate began, his voice cracking. He looked away for a second, but then focused his green eyes on Quinn, taking his breath away. He couldn’t remember ever seeing them so sad. “I’m sorry about last night, Quinn.”

Quinn nodded, accepting Nate’s apology.

“Can I ask you a question?” Nate asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“Sure.”

“Why did you leave?”

That was the only question Quinn didn't feel like answering right now. He held Nate’s gaze, but didn't speak. Nate stood up, shaking his head.

“Here. Get something to eat,” he said, bringing the tray of food and coffee to Quinn. “I’m going to take a shower and lie down for a bit. I need to be well rested for the flying lesson at five.”

“The what now?” Quinn nearly dropped the piece of toast he was buttering on the floor.

“Bran didn’t tell you? I thought you guys shared everything.” The note of resentment in Nate’s voice was back and Quinn was sure it was because he’d refused to answer his question.

“No. He didn’t.” Quinn took a bite of the toast and groaned in pleasure. He hadn't realized he was so hungry that a piece of dry toast could make him moan.

“He bought me a flying lesson for my birthday. We organized this whole trip around it.”

When they were kids Nate had always said he wanted to be a pilot. He was fearless when it came to heights and all kinds of crazy shit Quinn could never stomach.

“We have to be there at five. They’ll come pick us up at half past four here at the hotel,” Nate said, rummaging through his bag, looking for something.

“Wait. We?”

“Yeah. You’re taking Brandon’s place. He was supposed to be in the cockpit with me, for moral support or whatever.”

Nate pulled out a pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt from his bag and headed for the bathroom as if he hadn’t just told Quinn he was going to be locked in a flying death trap in a few hours.

“There’s no way in hell I’m going on that thing!” Quinn said, louder than necessary with just the two of them in the room.

“Oh, you’re going,” Nate threw over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

*    *    *    *    *

The car was waiting for them when they got in front of the hotel at half past four. The air base wasn’t too far away and they were there in time for the safety briefing. Quinn didn’t hear a word of what was said. All he could think about was that in a few minutes he’d be locked in a tiny plane that could be blown away by the slightest of winds. He could feel Nate watching him, but couldn't bring himself to turn around.

If Nate needed someone in that plane with him then Quinn was going to be there for him. That didn’t make it any less terrifying.

The pilot came to introduce himself. With a kind smile, he assured them there was nothing to worry about, and proceeded to give them the equipment they’d need.

“Quinn,” Nate said next to him, startling him out of his terrified thoughts. “You don't have to do this.” He touched his forearm gently, taking the helmet away.

“No, I want to,” Quinn protested, sounding fake even to his own ears.

Nate laughed. “You look like you’re about to walk down to the electric chair, Quinn.”

Quinn exhaled a loud breath, running a trembling hand through his hair. “You’re right. I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life. But I want to do this with you.”

“Quinn,” Nate said softly, taking a step closer. “You hate flying. You clutch the armrest the whole time when you fly in a big ass commercial airplane. Trust me, you don't want to do this.”

Relief washed over Quinn, making his lungs work again. “No. I really don’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Nate smiled, putting his helmet on. “Give me a sec.”

He jogged to the pilot who was waiting for them next to the plane and after a short conversation returned to Quinn holding what looked like a small radio.

“This is connected to my headpiece,” he said, tapping the microphone in front of his face. “Just press that button here and you can hear me. If you press that other button, you can talk to me.”

Quinn took the radio, grateful to have some contact with Nate while he was in the air.

“Thanks.”

Nate nodded and turned on his heel.

“Nate?” He stopped midstride and turned to face Quinn. “Be careful, alright?”

Nate saluted him with a cheeky, excited smile before he ran off to the plane.

*    *    *    *    *

Quinn's heart dropped every time the tiny red airplane made a sharp turn or wobbled unsteadily in the air. He’d switched on the radio the moment the plane took off and could hear the pilot’s instructions as he explained to Nate what he was doing and what Nate eventually had to do. Quinn had never heard Nate so calm and so focused on something. He didn’t curse once and was polite to the pilot, only talking when he had a question.

Deciding to give Nate space and only listen for now, Quinn leaned against the wall of the building, his eyes never leaving the red dot in the sky, the radio close to his ear. The white knuckled grip he had on it made his fingers ache. His head was spinning just from watching the plane circle above him. Time seemed to crawl and the next thirty minutes felt like an eternity to Quinn, whose overactive imagination conjured hundreds of ways for this whole thing to go wrong.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t ya?” Quinn heard the pilot’s voice on the radio.

“Yes, sir,” Nate replied, and Quinn could hear the grin in his voice. “I wanted to be a pilot when I was a kid.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Never got around to doing it, though.”

“You’re young. You have all the time in the world,” said the pilot. After a short pause Nate asked,

“Do you like it? Being a pilot?”

“I love it. Makes me feel invincible.”

Quinn huffed, shaking his head. The last thing Nate needed was encouragement to feel invincible. Quinn would probably get a heart attack every time he saw Nate climb into a plane and take off.

Unless...

Unless he didn’t see any of that because Nate didn't want him in his life anymore.

The thought hit him so unexpectedly and so hard that, for a second, his reality shifted and he saw himself in a world without Nate. His heart ached as he rubbed his chest, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the ground.

“You wanna do something special, kid?” The pilot’s mischievous voice brought Quinn back to the present and he clutched the radio even harder.

“Hell, yeah!” Came Nate’s excited response.

Oh, god.

Quinn could do nothing but watch as the plane flew straight up like an arrow, doing a loop high in the sky, then dropping down like a stone. Quinn couldn't breathe. He could hear Nate’s excited shouts on the radio and the pilot’s laughter before he straightened the airplane again and cruised above Quinn's head.

How anyone could enjoy this was beyond him. Quinn was sweating, his heart was thumping as if he’d run for miles, when in fact he hadn’t moved in the past hour.

“Quinn?” Nate’s voice crackled from the radio. “You there?”

Quinn managed to get a hold of himself and reply, his voice only slightly shaky. “Yeah. I’m here.”

“Did you see that?” Nate wasn’t even trying to conceal his excitement. The pilot laughed and Quinn felt the urge to punch him.

“Yeah.”

“It was awesome!”

Quinn could picture Nate in his mind, beaming from ear to ear, his eyes shining with childish joy, his body thrumming with adrenalin. Despite his fear, Quinn smiled. “You’re insane,” he told Nate, and heard both him and the pilot laugh.

*    *    *    *    *

After landing the plane and shaking the pilot’s hand, Nate hurried towards Quinn, a dazzling smile still plastered on his face.

“That was incredible,” he said when he reached Quinn. “I’ll have to check where I can get flying lessons in LA and what I’m going to need to get a license.”

The fire in Nate’s green eyes, the way his smile transformed his whole face, the animated body language – everything about Nate at that very moment – made Quinn's heart soar with the love he felt for this man. He nearly blurted the three dangerous words out loud. Stuffing his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out and pulling Nate into his arms, Quinn tried to sound more enthusiastic than he felt when he said,

“Great.”

Nate cocked his head. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re OK?”

“I’m fine,” Quinn replied, hating that he couldn’t share Nate’s excitement about this, but flying scared him shitless. “Come on, let’s go find something for dinner.”

Without thinking he swung an arm around Nate’s shoulders and pulled him closer, leading him towards the door.

Nate didn’t pull away.