Prophet's Pass
Page 13
Aiden finished. Maybe there was something Orson Jensen cared about more than power after all.
Someone rang the doorbell again. He looked at Javi.
“Who else did you invite?”
Javi shrugged. “No one.”
Aiden went to the door and opened it.
There, on his threshold, was Hunter, an Air Force kit bag slung over his shoulder. His ears were a little sunburned from whatever Middle Eastern climate they’d sent him to, but he looked good. Suddenly, Aiden’s words failed him.
Fortunately Hunter had one. “Hi.”
Aiden threw his arms around him, imagining that he still smelled pine and the tang of waterfall. It was a long time before he let go.
“What are you doing here?”
Hunter held out a crumpled piece of notepaper. His address. “I wondered if this was still good. I actually came by earlier, but your doorman said you were at work.”
“Yeah,” Aiden said. “Just about.”
Hunter looked past him, at Javi’s and Patrick’s curious faces peering round the wall. He waved. “Hey!”
Patrick waved back. Aiden stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.
“Looks like you’re having a party.”
Aiden snorted. “Party of three.”
“We call that a rave in Utah.”
Aiden laughed, finding himself staring. Those bright blue eyes, that strong Viking jaw. He’d missed him. He barely knew him. It didn’t make sense, and yet it did, in all the parts that mattered. They stood apart from each other like either of them might explode at any moment.
“I owe you an apology,” Aiden said eventually.
“No, you don’t. I owe you one. My mom and dad seeing us like that. I just froze. I should never have let you go like that.”
“And I shouldn’t have said those things. I don’t pretend I get it, and you’ll never get me giving up coffee or praying for moisture. But it’s your faith. It’s you. I should’ve respected that.”
“Thank you.”
They smiled shyly.
“How is it?” Aiden asked.
“Some steps forward, some steps back. I got a disfellowshipment from the Church. Lost my priesthood and my Temple rights. Next step’s probably excommunication. We’ll see, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, Hunter.”
“It’s okay.”
“And you parents?”
“We’re working through. Mom’s getting there. Turns out she knows a few gay people in Provo artistic circles.”
Aiden smiled. “Go figure.”
“Dad… Dad’s himself.”
“He gave up the Senate.”
Hunter nodded. “He did. He’s trying. I can’t ask more than that.” That was the thing about the worst thing happening: once it happened and you were still standing, nothing else felt quite as bad.
A police siren started outside, joining the rumble of the elevator through the walls, the muffled music from across the hall, the smell of cooking in 17B. Here they were again, so far removed from the quiet of the desert and the mountains, that perfect Utah silence.
“Why are you here?”
“I took some leave and this is the only place I wanted to go. Now I realize you’re the only person I know in New York. Can I stay?”
“Of course you can,” Aiden said. He didn’t know what he’d do about the mess or the pine needles or two large men in one small apartment, but it didn’t matter. He was here.
Hunter searched him with those bright, watchful eyes. He was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t promise you anything, Aiden. It’s all a mess.”
Aiden took his hand. “I know. I’m not asking you to.”
He opened the door and let Hunter in.
CHAPMAN BROWN was born in the United Kingdom but drifted across the Atlantic a decade ago and hasn’t looked back. When not writing something or another, he enjoys cooking, traveling, and exploring the wonderful, beautiful, and occasionally confusing landscape of America. He lives in New York City.
By Chapman Brown
Prophet’s Pass
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Prophet’s Pass
© 2018 Chapman Brown.
Cover Art
© 2018 Brooke Albrecht.
http://brookealbrechtstudio.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
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Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-779-2
Digital eBook published September 2018
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America