Chapter 12
Later that evening, after his second confrontation with Foster Price, Jude was wound way too tight.
He’d stewed at work, but at least there, he’d had other things to keep his mind and hands occupied.
At home, all alone, he had nothing to keep him from churning it over and over again in his mind. An apology? What the fuck?
While he’d told Anton that Foster wasn’t to blame for what happened, the guy had still played a big hand in what went down. Jude had taken all the heat while Foster had gotten away, life intact. He owed him more than a shitty apology.
Foster needed to pay.
Of course, he had gotten in that punch, which had felt great. But it wasn’t enough.
When Foster had been in the shop, there had been no mention of the party or the punch. Had he just been keeping it dl because they’d been in public or did Foster not realize it had been him? He chuckled to himself.
He doesn’t know. Figures. I matter so little in his world.
For some reason, Foster not putting two and two together pissed him off even more. Jude wanted the asshole to know whose fist it had been that had planted itself in the middle of his face.
Jude’s head was all over the place. He paced his apartment, the setting sun casting long shadows over his living room.
Anton wasn’t answering texts. He didn’t want to call Roan and interrupt his time with Mia before the baby came.
Yet he didn’t want to be alone, either. Probably shouldn’t be as antsy as he was.
Grabbing his phone to text Anton again, he ended up searching Grindr instead.
He sent a few messages, but no one of interest was on.
Once the sun fully set and the apartment grew dark, his stomach growled. He walked downstairs, appreciating the slight chill to the air as he opened his front door. Shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, he headed toward the hoagie joint a few blocks down, hoping the walk might do him good.
But his feet led him somewhere else instead.
Jude ended up across town, far from Pat’s Hoagies. He knocked on the front door of a lovely two story split-level in an upscale neighborhood, sure he’d lost every last brain cell.
An older woman with ice-blue eyes opened the door. She smiled at him. “How are you, Jude?”
He was a bit shocked she knew who he was. The last time she’d seen him had probably been grade school. He and Foster had been in the same fifth grade class. Mrs. Price had been their room mom. How he’d adored that woman. She reminded him of his own mother.
“I’m good, thanks, Mrs. P. Is—” He paused and took a steadying breath. “Is Foster around?”
She pointed a finger behind her shoulder. “He’s staying in the little apartment above our garage. Last I heard, he was up there, but I can’t say that for sure. He’s in and out sometimes.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Sorry to have bothered you. Have a nice night,” Jude said before backing down the small ramp that led to the front door.
Foster’s mom smiled softly at him. “Not a bother at all, Jude. Anytime.”
Jude backtracked and rounded the house, heading for the upstairs apartment. He lifted his hand to knock but couldn’t do it.
What the fuck am I doing?
Before he could leave, the door whipped open, and Foster nearly crashed into him. Foster backed up, narrowing his eyes. Brows furrowing more, his gaze lowered, sizing Jude up.
And down.
Get it together. You’re here now. Say what you want to say.
“Do you have any idea the amount of pain you caused me?” Jude asked.
Foster was silent a few seconds, searching his face. “Jude?”
“You just saw me earlier today, asshole. You forgot me that fast?”
“Yeah, I saw you. But you were wearing all your work crap. I saw maybe half your face.” His brow furrowed. “Sorry.”
Jude realized work him and off him did probably look different. Between all the layers, the protective gear, and the fleece jacket he wore under his butcher’s coat to keep him warm, he was pretty hidden. He wasn’t going to say any of that to Foster, though. Better that he felt a little more guilty.
He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring.
Foster’s gaze trailed over Jude’s arms, a hungry look flashing in his eyes. “Do you… want to come in?”
He needs to stop looking at me like that. “No.”
Awkward, weighted silence fell between them.
Jude gave Foster the once over, clenching his jaw at the form-fitting Giant’s t-shirt and gray sweatpants.
From the indent, it didn’t appear that he had any underwear on.
The hint of tenting was going to end up making his half-chub into a full one.
His gaze lifted to Foster’s heavy-lidded one.
Fuck, why does he have to be so damned hot?
He’d look even hotter with my dick in his mouth.
“Yes,” Jude said, changing his mind. He pushed Foster back with a hand to the middle of his chest and strode into the apartment. Spinning to eye his foe, he searched Foster’s face, looking for a spark of recognition. Something. Anything.
“I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for what you went through—and my part in it. I didn’t know how to help you. Not without tossing myself onto the bonfire.”
“Apologies won’t do anything to change what’s already happened. Rick and his buddies made my life hell after that day, yet they didn’t do anything to you. Your name was never mentioned. Why is that?”
“I don’t know. I waited for months for the bomb to drop, but it never did. To this day I don’t know why I wasn’t right there beside you.”
“Somehow you escaped it while I anguished. All because you kissed me.”
“I seem to recall you kissing me back,” Foster said.
Jude cocked his head. “You started it. And now you’re going to pay.”
Foster froze. His eyes narrowed as his brows furrowed. “Meaning?”
“Well, I could give you another black eye,” Jude replied as he scratched at his thin beard. A slow smile crept over his face. “Not gonna lie. That felt pretty good—seeing you knocked on your ass.”
The slow widening of Foster’s eyes was almost comical. He backed up a few steps, his bottom hitting the kitchenette’s counter. “It was you.”
A statement, not a question.
“Yeah,” Jude replied. “It was me.”
Foster’s lips moved without words. They paused a second before he said, “You were the one in the parlor, too.”
“The one who shoved you down and rode that big dick of yours?” Jude surveyed Foster from head to toe and back up again. “Correct.”
The dumb look on Foster’s face was pure gold. That alone was worth coming over for.
After a few more seconds, Foster broke the silence. “I thought it might’ve been you. I hoped it wasn’t.”
“You hoped it wasn’t?” Jude scoffed. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Foster said, shaking his head. “I just… I didn’t want to add another reason for you to hate me onto the pile.”
Jude relaxed hearing that. It meant the plan circling in his head could move forward.
“I even looked you up on social media. Found a picture of you at work. With all your many things on it was hard to tell, but I didn’t think it was you.
You looked a bit stockier. Shorter.” He pointed to his own chin.
“And you didn’t have a beard that night but did in the picture and now.
I’d crossed you off the list of suspects. ”
Suspects? “Are you going to have me arrested?”
“No,” Foster replied, his voice low. “Not when I know it was deserved. You’re probably owed a few more.”
Damned right I am.
Silence fell between them. Jude’s body thrummed with an electric current, a pull coming from Foster’s direction. Their eyes met, and Jude couldn’t look away.
“Why?” Foster suddenly asked.
Jude frowned, not understanding the question. “Why did I hit you? I think we’ve determined that.”
“No. Why would you fuck me? Was it some weird form of punishment?”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
Foster seemed to relax after that.
“It was dark in there. We had masks on. I could barely see. I didn’t know it was you until I came out after and overheard Cary say your name.
You don’t find too many Fosters around, you know.
” Jude let out a shaky breath. “I said your name, and you turned right around and confirmed it was who I thought it was just before my fist landed in the middle of your face.”
There was still a faint, faint bruise under Foster’s left eye. He would’ve loved to have seen it in full bloom. Maybe taken a few pictures for his scrapbook.
Foster swallowed. “I swear I had no idea it was you. I never would’ve approached if I had.”
“I gathered,” Jude spat.
“How anyone could see anything in that room, I don’t know,” Foster said. He captured Jude’s gaze. “I’m sure it was a gut-punch to find out you’d just been with the enemy. I’m sorry for that.”
“Are you my enemy, Foster?”
Silence stretched between them.
“I never wanted to be.” Foster scrubbed his cheek, gaze searching around the room, landing on nothing before he focused on Jude again. “I was a coward. And in my cowardice, I caused you immeasurable pain. I knew then I was a piece of shit. My opinion of myself hasn’t changed much.”
Jude moved his gaze away, unable to see the sorrow in Foster’s eyes. That sorrow was nothing in comparison to what he experienced, yet it spoke to something inside Jude. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but it did.
He scanned the small apartment with its outdated furnishings instead of looking at Foster, allowing his mind to chew on what he wanted to say next.
“Nice digs.” He lifted a white goose wearing a sunhat and a pale blue ribbon around its neck.
The back was filled with wooden spoons and spatulas.
“It’s like a time capsule from the 90s in here. ”
“Yeah, it’s dated, but it’s temporary. I’ve been staying here since a little before the divorce was finalized and just until I figure out where I go next.”
He is divorced. That’s good to confirm. I won’t have Ashley breathing down my neck. “How long do you plan to stay in town?”