“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” More words danced on Jameson’s lips, but he stopped himself from saying them, anxious that it wasn’t the right time. Instead, he lifted his flaky sandwich and bit into the egg and cheese.
“Where do you think our first stop should be? If there’s still a crowd outside your house, it might not be smart to roll up to the gate like nothing happened.”
Jameson sipped his coffee. “We could always go straight to my publicist. Her office is like a fortress, with secret entrances and everything.”
“Secret entrances?”
Jameson shrugged. “She has a lot of clients with a lot of bad habits.”
“We’ll use the Bat Tunnel at your publicist’s office, then,” Gray said. “It’s a plan.”
Gray started to shuffle and gather his stuff, but Jameson took his hand to stop him. “Hold up,” he teased. “We don’t need to rush.”
“Oh,” Gray laughed, then squeezed Jameson’s hand. “Sorry. Whenever you’re ready.”
Jameson looked out over the park. The sun was just high enough that the shadows of the trees stretched across the grass. It was hard to believe that this was where they were going to call it quits and bring their adventure to an end.
“Actually,” he said. “Can we make one last stop?” He grabbed his ear, then tugged on the lobe. He still had the clip-on earring that Gray had given him, and he rolled the silver ring between his fingers. “I kind of want a souvenir.”
Gray popped his eyebrows up. “Can’t say no to that.” He reached up, then pulled on his own ear. “You mind if I get one, too?”
“I thought you didn’t have tattoos or piercings?”
Gray shrugged. “I don’t. But maybe now I will. It’s about time I try something new, too, don’t you think?”
Jameson laughed, then smacked a kiss on Gray’s cheek. “Absolutely. You think you can find a place?”
They finished their coffee on the drive, making their way to a nearby town. Gray relied on his instincts to find a tattoo parlor and made Jameson laugh by pretending to sniff the air while they drove around. For a second, everything felt surreal. Jameson knew that there was an absolute nightmare waiting, but in his weird bubble with Gray, they were just driving down a highway and past a bunch of fast food restaurants, cruising the radio in the hopes of finding a Queen song.
It felt normal. He felt normal. He had on one of his favorite looks, eyeshadow that looked like exploding stars and rich red lipstick. It somehow matched perfectly with Gray’s old sweatshirt, a wolf howling on the front, and the comfy black tights he wore. And with the old car humming beneath him, Jameson was more comfortable in the seat next to Gray than he had ever felt in a limo or an SUV with tinted windows.
“Here we go,” Gray said. They were at a strip mall, and Jameson looked back and forth over the stores, squinting. “There’s no tattoo parlor here?”
“Nope,” Gray answered, flipping the car off. “You think tattoo parlors are open this early?” He gestured to a store with a purple awning, then hopped out of the car. “Beauty supply!”
The bell rang when they walked through the door, and the two women working the counter turned to check them out. Jameson adjusted his scarf, then grabbed Gray’s hand. He knew that as long as they were together, he could act like himself and avoid being recognized as Justin Sweet.
Gray greeted the women and quickly swept everyone up with his charm, telling a big story about how they were getting matching earrings to celebrate the end of an exciting romantic vacation. It was all basically true, except that Gray made up a fake history for Jameson, claiming he was an artist from a small city nearby. Jameson giggled along with the workers, the thrills of being an out gay person in public making him giddy.
“My guy,” he teased Gray, then bumped their hips together. “He tried to buy me a clip-on earring first.”
Thinking quick, they made up an excuse about Jameson having some dental work done recently, a flimsy lie that still worked to explain the scarf over his face. After deliberating over the choices, Jameson and Gray both went with silver rings. Jameson got a matching set, one in each ear, but Gray chose a single ring in his right ear. Gray held Jameson’s hand while he got his second one done, after Jameson asked, and the woman who did the piercing hummed at them appreciatively.
The women complimented his eye makeup one more time while they paid, and Jameson giggled again. For the first time in his life, he was appreciating having an audience.
Once they returned to the car, Jameson pulled his scarf down and leaned across the seats to give Gray a long, slow kiss. He licked his teeth and pushed his hands through Gray’s hair, and he let himself ask the question one more time. “You’re not going anywhere?”
“I’m right here,” Gray said. He kissed Jameson back, then pressed their foreheads together. “You ready?”
Jameson nodded. He pulled the scarf back up, then buckled his seatbelt. His ears were throbbing with a dull pain, and he gently touched the back of a finger against one of the rings, proof that everything had been real. “To the publicist we go.”
“To the gas station first,” Gray said. He pulled out of the strip mall, then down the city street.
“Maybe we could get a house on an island somewhere,” Jameson said, gazing out the window. “Would you want to live on an island with me?”
Gray laughed. “Maybe. Can I put Raiden and Horatio on another island so I know they aren’t getting themselves killed?”
“Two islands. Got it. I guess for that much money, we could just build a secret bunker at your place in Albany.”
