Chapter 25
R ob was still starfished across the mattress as late afternoon approached evening. Jude rolled out of bed, drawn to the window where he stood, naked, and took in the view. He watched, hardly thinking, mind pleasantly quiet, for once, while his body still thrummed with pleasure.
“What are you looking at?” Rob asked from the bed.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, you are.” Rob got up to stand behind him, warm and a little tacky as he rested his chin on Jude’s shoulder.
“Or you were, anyway. I was watching you. Well, your bottom, to be specific. You haven’t moved for ages.
Been staring out at the same thing for minutes.
” He slid a hand from Jude’s hip to his shoulder, his light touch raising goosebumps as he then tilted Jude’s head a few degrees to the left.
“There.” He asked, “What were you looking at that was so compelling when you could have been looking at me?” He dropped a kiss on Jude’s shoulder, his questioning hum a teasing buzz that Jude felt everywhere they pressed together.
Had he ever felt so happy?
“Why would I waste time looking at you?” Jude murmured, voice gritty and throat a little sore in a way he wanted to get used to, could get used to now they had some time together.
“Like I could forget your ugly mug just by looking out the window.” Closer to the truth was that he only had to close his eyes to see Rob’s many facets, had done so for months, Rob something to take his mind off each search that came up empty.
Rob bit his shoulder. “Liar.” Then he kissed the same spot. “I said your name three times, Jude. Thought you’d had a stroke. Imagine having to make that 999 call?” His tone turned warning, “And can you imagine me explaining to your sister about how I sucked your brains out?”
Jude turned in his arms. “How about you never mention Lou, my cock and blowjobs in the same sentence ever again. Think you can do that for me?” Up close, Rob smelled of sex, tasted faintly of salt, and felt absolutely perfect. “How about we go back to bed?”
“Not until you show me what you were looking at. If I’ve got to vie for your full attention it’s only fair that you show me the competition.”
As if anything could distract Jude now that he had exactly what he’d dreamed of for so long. His hold on Rob’s waist tightened. “I wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Just the horizon.”
“Is that all?” Rob peered over his shoulder, thoughtful.
“You do that at home too.” His hands dropped to Jude’s arse and pinched it.
“How about I be your horizon, sailor?” he joked.
“Maybe then you’ll look at me more often.
” He pulled back to arms’ length, his hair sticking up every which way, a dishevelled disaster.
Look at him more often? Hell, Jude already saw Rob each time he closed his eyes. Had done for longer than he’d ever tell him.
Rob’s gaze flickered away for a second as if nervous. “You can make a start by looking at me over dinner.” He backed away and grabbed a towel, holding it shield-like across his bare chest. “I’ve got something to talk to you about while we eat, but I want to shower first.”
Jude grabbed a towel too. “What do you want to talk about over dinner?” he asked, but Rob had already gone, the bathroom door closed behind him.
Later, Jude caught glimpses of the sea as they wended their way downhill, slivers of azure now a deeper shade of jade as the sun lowered.
A tide of tourists trudged uphill as they descended, some parents carrying sleepy toddlers while others bumped strollers laden with beach toys across cobbles.
A beach ball bounced free, rolling downhill until Rob ran and caught it, holding Jude’s hand as soon as he returned it.
He laced their fingers like that was normal as he coaxed a smile from the beach ball’s crying owner.
And it was normal, Jude decided as they said their goodbyes.
Holding hands in front of kids wasn’t about attracting attention. It was how acceptance started.
Even though Jude only imagined his own father’s turned back, his fingers flexed regardless.
Tamping down the urge to let go wasn’t easy.
So what if Dad had made his feelings clear without ever saying a word?
He’d been wrong about Marc based on no more than black nail polish and eyeliner—the man was artistic, not gay.
And if he’d ever thought Rob’s brand of open affection was a sign of weakness, he’d have been wrong about that as well.
There was more strength in Rob than Jude knew how to measure.
Rob chatted while they strolled, about what Jude barely registered, just knowing one thing for sure at that moment—Rob’s happiness was transparent, his assumption that he could show it a much-needed lesson that Jude wished he’d witnessed when he was young.
A tug of regret pulled hard—turning his back on Marc when they’d been kids had been a real waste. He might have had someone to confide in about feeling different. Instead of being lonely, Jude could have had a friend that whole time. More to the point, he could have been one.
He thought about reaching out and trying harder when they got back, and his spirits lifted. As for Lou and Marc maybe being an item…. For the first time in months, he was glad he might not get to see his dad’s reaction to that as well.
Guilt pulled him straight down like an anchor.
What kind of person wished for shit like that?
Rob looked Jude’s way, his brow furrowed before he threw a verbal lifeline. “Are you even listening to me, fish face?”
“No. I mean yes.” Rob’s question moored him to the present. “Of course I am… what did you say?”
“God, you’re such an airhead. I have no idea what I see in you.
” Rob slipped an arm around his waist, huffing.
“Apart from your face, of course. And your body.” There was only one word for his next action; he snuggled into Jude’s side as they strolled down a street lined with shops selling vacation souvenirs and postcards.
“Not gonna lie, I’m finding that cock of yours quite compelling as well, which reminds me…
.” He darted into a mini-supermarket, out of sight until he stood from where he’d bent down to select a couple of containers.
His shout to Jude in the doorway was hardly private. “Do you prefer warming lube or normal?”
Every head in the store turned Rob’s way before pivoting to see who he spoke to.
“Jesus.”
“What did you say?” Rob shouted before answering his own question. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get both.”
That was one way to jump the queue, Jude supposed after retreating, spying through the window as customers with full shopping baskets let Rob cut in line with his two items.
A Cheshire cat’s smile would have been smaller than the one Rob wore as he rejoined him. “There. That’s tonight’s entertainment sorted.”
“For them?” Thank God they didn’t live here.
“No, for us.” Rob winked and twirled the bag he carried.
“In fact, I’m tempted to skip dinner to get the party started early, only I think you’ll need to keep your strength up.
Let’s eat,” he said as if he hadn’t just embarrassed Jude half to death in public.
Rob started whistling a sea shanty before they’d gone far, bursting into song about pirates.
Heads turned again, all eyes drawn to Rob like iron filings to a magnet.
This was what it would be like, Jude guessed, if he stopped searching for his parents.
If he spent every day with Rob instead, he’d have twelve months a year of this brand of bullshit; three-hundred and sixty-five days of him living life at full volume, and fuck who might be looking; millions upon millions of moments where Jude couldn’t wallow in fear of guilt by association.
There would be no-one left to judge him.
He stopped stock-still in the middle of a bustling street, Rob walking ahead, still swinging his bag and whistling. Jude couldn’t make himself follow, mired so very deeply between a rock and a hard place.
He wanted both options.
He wanted both so much—to be with Rob, like this, just like this, out and oh-so-happy. And he wanted his parents, alive and safe at home, however unlikely.
“Hey.” Rob backtracked, standing so close that Jude could see fine laugh lines that age would surely deepen. “What do you want, Jude?”
He wanted to see that happen, Jude knew.
Wanted to watch those laugh lines deepen, to be around to have Rob annoy and embarrass him where everyone could see it.
Wanted to take him back to that hotel suite and hold him, just hold him, for as long as Rob would let him.
He opened his mouth to say so, but a gruff, “You know that I’ll still have to leave at the end of the summer, don’t you? ” came out instead.
“I meant what did you want to eat,” Rob said quietly as tourists streamed around them.
“But yes, I do know.” He nodded, those fine lines not deepening any further.
“Of course, I do.” It shouldn’t be possible for eyes to soften, but Jude watched it happen, Rob’s gaze turning limpid—liquid in a way even a strong swimmer like him could drown in. “I’ve always known that about you.”
“I-I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for, next time.”
“For as long as it takes you to get an answer you can live with.” Rob’s nod was slow, his smile barely there, but gentle.
“But if the season goes to plan… If the Anchor gets a good review and does well, you’ll get back your investment and then—” Jude’s you’ll be the one to go was silent.
Perhaps Rob heard it, regardless. He looked somewhere over Jude’s shoulder, for once saying nothing.
Jude pushed even though he didn’t truly want an answer. “Your dad isn’t going to let up about you taking over from him.”
“How about we just think about being here, right now, with each other?”
It was easier to nod than to debate what-ifs, pointless when the summer would end regardless of what each of them wanted.
They walked, Rob’s fingers tight around his, his chatter about nothing important a raft that carried them away from troubled waters.
“Sit yourself down right here,” Rob ordered once they got close to the beach.
He left Jude on a bench facing the sea until he returned with fish and chips wrapped in paper, the scent of vinegar strong and malty.
He passed Jude a chip fork and a can of cola. “What?” he asked when Jude was silent.
“When you said you were taking me out for dinner, this isn’t exactly what I expected.” Jude unwrapped his greasy parcel, wry. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I might have an ulterior motive.” Rob sat so close their elbows jostled.
“We’re eating somewhere romantic.” He gestured at the sea view, which was stunning.
“Pretty sure that makes this our third date.” Rob took a swig of his drink before adding.
“I think you know what that means we’ll be doing later. ”
“The lube was a clue.”
Rob chuckled, breaking off a piece of battered haddock, crisp and golden.
He blew on the steaming fragment, cooling it before changing the subject.
Something in his tone switching from glib to serious caught Jude’s full attention.
“Talking of clues….” Rob looked his way briefly, the set of his shoulders stiffening as if braced for impact.
“Why do you think I kept nipping into the office to look at maps of this place?”
“Of St Ives?” Jude hadn’t thought too hard about it.
The last week had been a whirlwind of preparation.
All of them had been so busy that Rob spending time alone in the office had hardly registered.
Jude was just as inattentive now as he scanned where the sky met the far edge of the sea until Rob said, “Hey. You’re doing that staring thing again.
Don’t you remember what I said about you zoning out like that? ”
Jude blinked. They’d only had this conversation an hour or so earlier. “Of course I remember.”
“Tell me what I said then.”
“You told me to quit it.”
Rob relaxed, pleased. He next spoke around a huge mouthful, his cheeks bulging in a way that shouldn’t ever be attractive. “And…?”
“And you said that I should look at you instead.”
“Because I’m…?” Good grief; now Rob’s eyes actually twinkled.
“Because you’re my horizon, these days,” Jude said, food forgotten at Rob’s reaction.
Surprised into stopping mid-chew, Rob’s eventual swallow came with the slightest shifts in his expression—sweet, and so delighted.
Jude would have missed each flicker if he’d still searched the horizon for sails, as had become habitual.
“I didn’t think you were listening.”
“I always listen to you.” Fuck it , Jude thought as he lifted his arm to wrap it around Rob’s shoulder, tugging him until he closed the small distance between them.
He wanted more of this; more of Rob smiling at him as though he was the one who hung the evening sun that had him squinting; more of everything—anything—that Rob had to give him.
“I have to listen to you,” Jude grumbled.
“It’s not like you ever stop talking long enough for me to get a word in.
” He stole a chip from Rob’s portion rather than look around to see if anyone was staring.
That was another habit he’d work on breaking because leaning in for a kiss shouldn’t stop the world from turning.
He did just that, pressing his lips to Rob’s before saying, “So go ahead, chatterbox. Tell me why you googled this place.”
“Oh.” Rob was bizarrely flustered given that he’d raised the subject in the first place. Tourists passed them, teens on skateboards flashing by while smaller kids walked slowly, licking dripping ice cream cones. “It can wait,” he said, his cheeks rosy.
“Or you could just tell me?” Jude said, most of his attention on his dinner.
The fish was delicious, the haddock perfectly fresh and the chips just the right mix of crisp and greasy.
He speared some more before looking up. That rosiness now extended from Rob’s cheeks to his throat, stain so red it was startling.
“What’s up? You’re not allergic to any of this, are you? ”
“Allergic? No… I just….” Rob huffed out a small laugh, but he straightened his back, shifting position almost as if he wanted some distance between them, for once.
“It’s just that when I started searching online, I was only being nosy.
I didn’t think I’d find him.” It was Rob’s turn to stare into the distance, avoiding eye contact.
“Find who?”
Rob turned away from the view of the sea to glance over his shoulder. Across the street behind them, cottages crowded close together, one of them holding his full attention. He turned back to Jude, apologetic, his gaze worried.
“Trevor Mirren.”