QUINN
The silence in my car was absolutely blissful. I drove slowly down the side roads of my hometown, smiling as I saw the red, white and blue bunting on some of the houses. Eatonboro had the best Fourth of July parade, and I'd missed it the last three years. It made me sad; the last time I'd sat curbside watching the floats, the antique cars and the endless local marching bands, it had been mere weeks after my father had died. I'd been with Leo and Nate that day, I recalled. Leo had carried two lawn chairs from my house to the edge of the parade route, five blocks away. After he'd set them up, Nate had taken one, and Leo and I shared the other, with me nestled between his muscled thighs. Leo's arms had been wrapped around me as I'd leaned back against his chest, feeling safe and protec
