Page 26 of The Senator

Heretic stared at me for a solid fifteen seconds before he cracked up, slapping my hand and offering me another beer. “Dude, you speak the truth.” Hell yeah, I did.

I hung out with The Volunteers for the weekend, and Packard, the geek, was still sorting through a mountain of miscues and bullshit. Whoever was responsible had covered their tracks well.

Denver got me a room while we were all in a holding pattern, and we hung out in the evenings. It was nice, being back in their company, and I wondered if I hadn’t had such a restless spirit, could I have patched in? I’d been a prospect, as had Clint, but he’d stayed. I had to keep moving back then.

On Sunday, The Volunteers decided to break camp and head back to Sparta—everyone except Denver. “I’ll be home tomorrow. I’m gonna take Nash to Roanoke where he can rent a car tomorrow to head home. I’ll see y’all.”

I thanked all of them for coming and waved goodbye as two of them roared out of the parking lot while Pacman followed in a tricked-out cage.

I turned to Denver. “I’m ready.” He smiled and took my hand, leading me to my room and closing the door.

“I checked out of my room. Is it okay if I stay here with you?”

I could see the man was vulnerable, and I had worried about calling him, knowing the memories it would bring back, but a debt was a debt.

I woke up first on Monday morning and slid out of the bed. I made my way to the bathroom and got into the shower, trying to make sense of the previous night.

It wasn’t what I expected it to be, and I’d done my best to give him what he’d asked for. When I stepped out of the shower, I quickly dried off and dressed in my last set of clean clothes.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Denver was sitting on the side of the bed, blanket over his lap.

“You okay?”

I walked to the bed and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. I kissed his cheek. “I’m fine, Denny. Are you okay?” I whispered as he leaned his head against my shoulder. I felt a quiet sob break free, and my heart broke for the gentle giant.

I held him for a few minutes until he rushed into the bathroom. I pulled my phone from the charger on the nightstand, prepared to send a text to Spencer, but then I remembered him saying I should keep in touch with Vani, so I pecked out a text to her.

Vani—On my way back to town. Let’s catch up this week. If you want. Whatever you want. Nash

When I read it back, it didn’t smack of confidence. I got three laughing emojis back, which made me smile. Vani wasn’t one to fool, that was for sure.

Denver came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and looking like he had his shit together. “Thank you, Nashville. I can’t tell you how much last night meant to me. It’s been so fucking long. Well, there’s been nobody since I lost Clinton.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist, giving him a hug he was reluctant to return.

Finally, I felt a kiss to the top of my head, and I pulled back, reaching up to pull on the beard. “I like this. You know, Clint would have loved it.”

Denver nodded and pulled away. “Your man seems to have the potential for a great beard. Maybe if you tell the senator that you like it, he’ll grow it.” Denver was cutting to the chase. He wasn’t one to mince words.

“How did you know it was him and not her?” I felt my cheeks flush.

Denver chuckled. “I remember when you and Clint ended up at the clubhouse. Hand’s little sister thought you were right up her alley.”

I laughed. Hand, as the club president was called, had a baby sister who was a gusher—as in, she was clingy and needy, and if one didn’t give her all their attention, she’d tell her brother, and he’d beat the hell out of you. He beat my ass once over that idiot, and that was one of the reasons I decided to leave.

“Yeah, well, she needed more than I was prepared to give. Whatever happened to her?” We grabbed our things and headed out of the room.

Denver chuckled. “She found herself a younger guy, and she’s pregnant. He’s a prospect, and if Hand doesn’t kill him, I’ll be the first one in line to throw the Prez a parade. They guy’s name? Seymour.”

I looked at Denver to see he wasn’t laughing. I couldn’t hold it after that. Pansy, her actual name, loved the movie, “Little Shop of Horrors.” It would figure she’d find a guy named Seymour.

We headed downstairs and hopped on Denver’s Road King. Once we had the helmets on and our shit in the saddlebags, I wrapped my arms around Denver’s muscled abs to hold on, my thoughts settled on the events of the previous night. They were nothing like I’d expected.

I exited the rental office with the keys to a Mustang that Denver had insisted on renting for me. “I’d have been fine with the Nissan.”

We’d had an argument in the line because I wanted to pay him for the car. I didn’t have a credit card, so that was a problem, but Denver had insisted he was going to cover it. After I assured the agent I could drop the car at the rental office in Crystal City, the deal was done.

“Yeah, but you remember what Clint wanted to do before you left, and you guys never got to do it?” Denver grinned, taking me back to the conversation.

“I wanna take a road trip with you and little brother in a Mustang. You think we can do that someday, Daddy?”

---