Rather than dwell on that, though, he flipped on the stereo, letting the conversation shift naturally to bands and music. Still struggling with rehydrating, they stopped in Kingman, which was full of kitschy Route 66 memorabilia, for drinks and to top up the gas tank.
“You still look tired,” Canaan observed as they carried their drinks out of the convenience store. Renzo had decided to relax his no-food rule to let them have more fluids. “You sure you want to drive the whole way? I could drive a few hours, let you nap.”
“Not going to nap.” Renzo wasn’t kidding there—he could seldom sleep in a moving vehicle. But then, seeing how Canaan’s face fell, he softened his tone. “You really want a turn driving?”
“Sure. I mean, I know you’re a control freak about the truck, but I’d like to feel like I was helping. More than I could out there on the ledge at least.” Canaan huffed out a breath.
“You did more than you’re thinking.” Renzo didn’t like admitting this, but maybe Canaan needed to hear it. “You kept me sane. Gave me a focus. A goal. Having you to think about kept my head on straight, kept me from taking stupid risks. I’m glad I wasn’t alone. For real.”
“Yeah?” Canaan’s tentative smile made Renzo’s stomach wobble. And that decided it. He fished out his truck keys.
“You’ve driven something this big?”
“There’s a joke just waiting for me there.” Canaan leered, making Renzo’s skin heat. “Yes. I’ve driven something the size of your truck before. When we toured Europe the first time, we were in this huge van, and while Kelly did most of the driving, I spelled him some. And I’ve driven Maureen’s F-150 a couple of times. Your baby is safe with me, promise.”
Sure enough, Canaan made a show out of adjusting the seat and mirrors and asking good questions about how the truck handled, and while not exactly relaxed, Renzo was less tense as Canaan took the on-ramp for the highway. And there was something to be said for making Canaan happy, the way his eyes crinkled and his mouth hummed along with the music as he drove. A strange...well, not pain, but something bloomed in his chest. He wanted to make Canaan look like that a lot more often.
They switched back again in Barstow, where they also got food. Canaan insisted it was Renzo’s turn to choose, and since he was still in recovery mode and not as worried about his diet as usual, he chose a local burger joint with woodsy decor and cute burger names. When the check came, they both reached for it.
“I dragged you along on this trip.” Canaan’s chin had a defiant tilt to it.
“Yeah, but at least let me split, like we did on our first date.”
“Oh is that what that was?” Canaan grinned at him. And maybe it hadn’t been at the time, but it sure felt significant now, like that evening had been the start of something huge in Renzo’s life, a landmark of sorts. “If I remember right, you wouldn’t even kiss me goodnight. Am I at least going to get a kiss when you drop me off?”
A certain vulnerability around Canaan’s mouth made Renzo bump ankles with him under the table. “You know it.”
“Good.” Seemingly satisfied, Canaan let him split the check.
As they approached San Diego a few hours later, Renzo found his muscles tensing, and not from the long drive. What were they back here? Where did they go from here? How did they act? True, he was good at being a fake boyfriend, but he had precious little knowledge of how a real one should behave and, maybe more importantly, he wasn’t sure what Canaan’s expectations were or even how to ask.
“You’re stewing.” Canaan turned the stereo down. “Something wrong?”
“I...I’m not sure I’m going to be very good at this,” he admitted.
“We talking sex again?” A low, dirty laugh escaped Canaan’s throat. “Because I thought we’d laid that notion to rest. You’re fucking amazing in bed.”
“Thanks.” Renzo’s neck went burning hot. “I meant more...everything else.”
“Ah. Does it help if I say I’m not sure about me either?” Canaan played with a stray thread in his jeans. “Been more than a while since I’ve done anything like this. But I want to try.”
“Yeah.” Renzo wasn’t sure whether it helped or not, knowing Canaan had doubts.
“Maybe it’s kind of like the sex, and we’ll figure it out as we go?”
“Hope so.” Renzo didn’t do so great with on-the-fly plans and no clear guidelines to follow, but there was a certain wisdom in Canaan’s suggestion. And he did want to try, so he reached over and squeezed Canaan’s leg. “If it’s as fun as the sex stuff has been, I’m in.”
“Good. You gonna come in? Try some more of that?” Heavy conversation apparently over, Canaan’s voice was light and teasing.