Page 77 of Torch Songs

He didnotwant to stop to take a pain med.

But apparently dads didn’t give a fuck what you wanted because Chris gave a grunt and crossed two lanes of traffic to take the next exit.

“Sweet or savory?” he asked as they headed for the outlet malls near Vacaville.

“What?”

“Never mind,” Chris decided. “There’s an IHOP. We’ll get you chicken and waffles and you can have both.”

“We can do drive-thru,” Guthrie told him.

“No, we can’t,” Chris said. “I need at least two gallons of black coffee, andyouneed a meal. Don’t argue. My kids all learned how not to argue from the very beginning, but I bet I can train you up.”

“You telling me Tad doesn’t argue with you?” Guthrie asked peevishly. “Because I’ve met the man, and he’s bossy as fuck.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a grown-up. When you’re grown you can argue.” Chris pulled into the parking lot and surveyed the foyer. Apparently satisfied, he parked and chivvied Guthrie into the restaurant.

“Am too a grown-up,” Guthrie muttered as Chris took a booth for the two of them. “And I want steak and eggs.”

“That’s fine,” Chris conceded, pulling Guthrie’s prescription bottles out of his pocket. “I’m just having coffee because Tad’s sister is getting me my favorite burrito for when we arrive. Plusyou seem like the type of man who will eat about half your steak and eggs, and I can finish that off to hold me over.”

Guthrie gave him an unfriendly look. “Never underestimate how much a musician can eat,” he said direly. “Restaurants go broke doing that.”

“Fair,” Chris told him. “I’ll get biscuits and gravy. And then you can tell me why Tad’s afraid to ask you to move to Colton.”

Guthrie stared at him, so shocked that Chris had to order for the both of them, including coffee and a chocolate milkshake for Guthrie.

The server left, and Guthrie blinked, his brains still scrambled. “Why’d you order me a milkshake?” he asked.

“Because you looked like you needed one. Your brains back in your ears yet?”

“Yeah. I just… did that nice family really ask you both up there to work? Who does that?”

“Nice families, I guess,” Chris said, a small smile playing on his lips. “You got to know them when you were up there?”

Guthrie nodded. “Olivia Larkin-McDaniels and I text,” he admitted. “She’s funny,” he added with a small smile. She also read his song lyrics, which, somehow, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to show to anybody else in his life—not Seth, not Kelly, not even Tad. The girl didn’t just say, “Oh, that’s great!” she said, “Maybe a different word here,” or, “Are you trying to convey despair or yearning, ’cause they’re very different, and I’m getting one instead of the other.”

“So you can see the appeal of moving to Colton,” Chris asked gently.

Guthrie nodded. “Yeah. I mean, of course. Same job, less stress, and it’s gotta feel good, Aaron George wanting you both as a team. I’m… I’m surprised he hasn’t told me.”

“I don’t think he expected a formal offer,” Chris said with a shrug. “But Aaron came by the day before yesterday, and I wentto Tad’s yesterday morning.” He stared directly at Guthrie. “Tad and April only had one reservation.”

Guthrie swallowed. “We’re new,” he said defensively. He felt like he’d been saying it a lot since he’d met Tad, but the last three weeks hadn’t feltnew, they’d feltgood, and he was still working that out in his brain. “My life is in flux. I’m losing my band. I lost my job—”

Chris frowned. “Lost your job?”

Guthrie swallowed. “That whole Colton thing,” he muttered. “I walked out to take April up there. It’s no big deal. I need to do the resume thing and—”

“Well, why not hitch your star to Tad?” Chris asked kindly. “There’s worse things than ending up in a new town because of a love affair.”

“Because I don’t want to ‘hitch my star’ to him,” Guthrie snapped defensively. “I want him tolove me.” He stopped then, so shocked he clapped his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled from behind his own palm. “You didn’t hear that. Can we go now?”

“No,” Chris said, definitely bemused. “We can’t go now because you still have to eat.”

“I… I need to go,” Guthrie said. He started to stand up and bumped his arm against the table, which blew a whole shot of pain up to his shoulder, sending him back to his seat. “Dammit!”

“Sit down,” Chris said in that stern dad voice that made Guthrie wish for things that were obviously long past having. “Sit down, eat the food when it comes out, and stop panicking. Guthrie, there’s no sin in hoping for love. You know that, right?”

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