Page 72 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“Shut up. We saw nothing. Nothing.”
“Admit it. It was hot.”
Q snorted. “Objectively, yes. In that my best friend ew way, no.”
“Lord, I do love the way you make me laugh. Even if it hurts.” He grabbed his little breathing exerciser and did a few breaths. That eased things down some. Then he sipped his Sprite.
“So, Chauncey gets out tomorrow. Then we can always drive for a few days if we need to. Like up to Seattle. If you two aren’t cleared for flying yet.”
“Yeah. We’ll see what they say about him.” Frost knew the docs could be kinda picky about lung stuff and altitude. Like flying altitude.
So they would see. He would get a short check-up at the urgent care attached to the hospital tomorrow when they went to get Chauncey.
Q leaned on him. “You scared me.”
“I scared me a little, too. And I have survivor’s guilt. But I’m fucking glad I’m here.”
“Well, you can work that shit out at the mandatory psych visits.”
Frost pinched Q on the hip. “Asshole.”
“That’s me, lover.” Quentin kissed his jaw, just holding onto him. “All over.”
“But like I said. Mine, baby boy.”
And that wasn’t going to change no matter what the hell happened to them.
Twenty-Four
By the time they made it to Seattle, Quentin figured he was going to kill someone.
Maybe himself.
Boone was the worst kind of mother hen. Chauncey was queasy as fuck from the pain meds they had put him on to travel. He hadn’t puked in the vehicle, but he’d been silently miserable, which was awful.
And Frost was in a foul humor because he wasn’t flying them.
Moody fucker.
So thank God they got to the damn hotel and got into two accessible rooms and one with the biggest minibar Boone could probably find.
“Y’all want to eat supper together?” Boone asked.
“I’m just gonna head to bed and eat room service,” Chauncey murmured. He was crutching okay, but his tired was showing. “Maybe they’ll make me some eggs if I ask.”
“If you need me to talk to them, man, just holler,” Boone said. “I have member stuff at this hotel group.”
“Cool.” Chauncey gave them a tired grin. “Thanks for everything today, guys. Except you, Frost. You were a dick.” He winked, and he was off, clumping down the hall.
“Sorry!” Frost called. Then he sighed. “Sorry, Boone.”
“Hey, you kept it mostly to yourself. But if you two want to have a beer and a steak…”
“They got a nice place here, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. Dry aged steak. Good seafood. Fantastic bourbon.”
Frost raised an eyebrow at him, and he nodded.
