“You… you apologize well,” Cain told him, and Damon grinned.
“Drive, Cain,” he said, shaking his head.
And after a deep, steadying breath, Cain did.
******
The morning passed quickly, and despite Damon’s insistence on backtracking and taking detours at every opportunity, they found themselves an hour south of Nashville shortly after lunchtime.
“Oh, shit, not this song again,” Cain complained.
“Thought you Nashville folks lived for country ballads.”
Cain gave him side-eye. “There are so many things wrong with that statement.”
He reached for the radio control, only for Damon to bat his hand away. “Navigator picks the tunes,” he said.
Uh, what?
“Bullshit.” Cain threw him a scowl. “Driver is the DJ. Everyone knows this. It’s road trip law.”
“Well, you lost your opportunity the first two times this song came on and you did nothing. You’re fired.”
“Fired… as DJ?” Cain clarified.
Damon shrugged and spread his hands out in mock apology. “Cain, I don’t make the rules.”
Cain burst out laughing and shook his head. “By all means then, please make a selection.” He waved his hand at the radio like a game show hostess.
Damon scrolled through all of the pre-set stations on Drew’s satellite radio, his frown getting deeper each time. “Drew listens to Sports Radio, NPR, and classical music?”
Cain shrugged. “This doesn’t surprise me.”
Damon kept punching buttons, and the sound of classic rock filled the car. “There we go,” he said.
“Aerosmith?” Cain said dubiously, and Damon turned to look at him.
“Okay, pause. Whatever you’re about to say right now, I want you to think about it carefully,” Damon warned. “This could have a significant impact on our… friendship.”
Cain’s lips quirked. He’d almost swear that Damon had been about to say relationship, but honestly,friendshipwas pretty fucking cool too.
“Nothing wrong with Aerosmith,” Cain allowed. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”
“Comfortable?”
“You know, older people need their routine. They like things a certain way. It’s cool,” Cain said quickly, loving the scowl on Damon’s face. “We can totally listen to this.”
“Listen,sonny, respect your elders. These are the Bad Boys of Boston. They’re kings.”
Cain rolled his eyes. “I mean, theywere,” he agreed. “Two decades ago.”
“Oh, tell me you didn’t just say that. Tell me you did not just shade Aerosmith.”
Damon sounded truly shocked, and Cain bit his lip. In truth, he probably owned every Aerosmith album available, but the opportunity to needle hisnavigatorwas too good to pass up.
“Don’t get agitated, Big Daddy,” Cain said in his most placating tone. “I’m not arguing with you.”
“You know,” Damon said, and despite having his eyes on the road, Cain could feel Damon’s gaze burning his cheek like a laser-beam. “You’re right. I really shouldn’t be selfish. I’ll pick something you’ll like better, kid.”
