Chapter 29 #2
“We can’t ignore there’s a past between us or brush it under the rug, but a fresh-ish start sounds pretty good to me,” Foster said.
“Me, too.” Jude took a deep breath, a little of the panic rising at the thought of a fresh start he could soon fuck up.
The deep breath turned into a massive yawn.
“We’re both exhausted. I know there’s likely a lot more for us to talk about, but I think we’ve covered enough for tonight, don’t you?”
Jude nodded.
“It’s been a long day,” Foster said. “Why don’t we get inside and have some pie… and then go enjoy our turkey coma somewhere quiet together?”
Jude grinned. “I like that plan.”
Foster caressed Jude’s cheek. “I like that smile.”
Jude frowned. “Is it different than the others I have?”
“I’ve never seen one before.” Foster searched his face. “At least, you haven’t smiled with me. Not until tonight.”
“No,” Jude said, shaking his head. “That can’t be true.”
“There were a couple of evil ones, like when you told me my cock belonged to you. Otherwise, no. There have been hints you fought, but never full ones.” Foster ran his thumb over Jude’s lower lip. “It’s nice to see I can make you smile.”
“I’m sorry,” Jude said.
“Don’t apologize,” Foster whispered. “Just don’t hide them from me anymore.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
Foster leaned in and captured his lips. Jude opened to him, hungry for more. Their kisses grew heated. When they separated for air, he noticed the windows had fogged up and had to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Foster asked.
“A makeout session with a hot boy in a car. Steamed up windows. Parents waiting inside for us to break curfew. I used to fantasize about those normal, everyday things straight kids took for granted.” Jude grinned. “Now I’m finally getting them. And with my crush, no less.”
Foster smiled before sneaking in another kiss. “We both get them.” He sighed. “Let’s go in before we have the parents flipping on the porch light and telling us to come in.”
Jude chuckled.
He climbed out and met Foster on the other side of the SUV.
Foster threaded his hand through Jude’s and led him to the back door.
They made it to the darkened porch before they paused to kiss again.
Foster dragged him close and kissed him hungrily.
Thoughts of pie drifted from his mind. Jude needed to get naked and horizontal with Foster.
The back door flung open, and the light overhead switched on. Foster dragged him even closer, gaze flying to the door.
Adeline stood in the doorway, her eyes and mouth wide.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, shock etched onto her face. She slammed the door shut.
Jude eyed Foster in the light. This time, he hadn’t pushed Jude away when they’d been caught. He’d actually pulled him closer. Maybe it was a small thing, but it felt huge to him. “You should probably go in and talk with your mom.”
“In a minute,” Foster said before kissing Jude again in the light.
Jude melted against Foster, lapping at his mouth with his lips and tongue. When they parted for air, Jude didn’t want to let go.
“Do you want to come in with me—or head up to the apartment and wait?”
“Which would you prefer?”
“It’s up to you,” Foster said. “But I don’t know how they’re taking the news. It might not be pretty in there.”
The door cracked open just a bit. Not enough for anyone to see them.
“I’m so sorry I interrupted you two. I heard noises and thought there might be another racoon out here. I never meant to embarrass anyone.”
Foster’s gaze met Jude’s.
“Anyway, your father and I are going to go to bed early. It’s been a tiring day. I left two dessert plates and forks on the kitchen table along with what’s left of the pumpkin pie for you to enjoy whenever you’re ready.”
“Mom,” Foster said. “You can open the door.”
His mother pushed it open a little more and peeked out. “I am so sorry I intruded.”
“Well, it was probably past time you and Dad found out… that I’m not exactly straight.”
His mother chuckled. “Like we didn’t already know that.”
Foster cocked his head to the side. “What?”
“Honey, you told me you were in love with that little blond boy from Home Improvement when you were four.”
Foster chuckled. “I’m sure a lot of kids say things like that at four.”
“You also told me girls were icky, and boys were prettier.”
“I was four,” Foster said.
“Then there was the Backstreet Boys at eight or nine. You didn’t come out and say you had a crush, but it was pretty clear who your favorite was.
Although, you had Britney Spears posters on your walls, too, so that made me wonder—but they all came down a couple of years later when you started your obsession with Michael Phelps. ”
“I wouldn’t call it an obsession.”
“Foster—your walls were covered in photos of him in a tiny Speedo.”
“I’d made the swim team. I wanted to be like him,” Foster said, his face red.
“Sweetheart,” his mother said. “I saw the way you gazed up at those posters when you didn’t think anyone was looking. You had a puppy crush on young Mr. Phelps.”
Jude coughed, covering his mouth with his hand—trying his damnedest not to laugh.
“Okay. Maybe a little.”
“Your brother had pinups of women in tiny bikinis. You had sweaty, muscular men.” She grinned. “We knew.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Foster asked.
“Well, we didn’t want to make assumptions or embarrass you, either. We felt it needed to be natural without us interfering. And then along came Ashley. During high school, we assumed she just might be your beard, but then you went and married her. We were both quite confused.”
“You didn’t question their marriage?” Jude asked Mrs. Price.
“We kinda eloped,” Foster said to Jude. “While we were out visiting her dad in California, we took a weekend trip to Vegas, got a little drunk, and got married.”
“He’d already told us Ashley’s father had been urging them to get married and he was considering it,” Mrs. Price said.
“I assumed there would be time—and we’d gently question Foster and make sure it was really what he wanted before they walked down the aisle.
Then they showed up with rings on their fingers and what was done was done. ”
“And now undone,” Jude said.
“Thank heavens,” Adeline said, lifting her hands. “He’s free to be who he really is.” She smiled at Jude. “With someone like you.” She smiled. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation for dinner and finally got my boy out of his funk.”
Jude eyed her, confused.
“As if we hadn’t seen the two of you sneaking in and out of that apartment for weeks. And noticed his gloomy mood the second it stopped,” Mrs. Price said. “We might be old, but we’re not completely blind.” She sighed, yawning. “We can talk more tomorrow if you want. I’m going to bed.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
She paused at the door. “We love you, Foster. Exactly as you are. Straight. A little curved. Or completely queer. Makes no matter to us.”
Foster took a few steps forward and hugged his mother tight. “I love you, too.”
After they pulled away, Mrs. Price urged Jude over, opening her arms for him.
Jude wasn’t really a hugger, but there was something about the moment—and the woman—who led him forward.
Adeline wrapped her arms around Jude like any mother would a child.
“I know you lost her before you knew who you were, but I’d wager she saw you, just like I did my Foster. And knowing Rosalie, I suspect she would’ve loved you no matter what,” Adeline whispered against his ear before kissing his cheek.
Jude leaned into Adeline, needing that hug more than he’d realized. And the acceptance that came with it.
When he pulled back, she patted his cheek. “You’re the best of them both.” She turned toward the door and shuffled through it. “Night, boys.”
Foster turned to face Jude. “I suppose I couldn’t have asked for better.”
Jude shook his head. “Nope.”
He closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Jude’s. “I’ll go get the pie and we can go up.” He paused at the door. “Or we could go back to your place, if you’d prefer.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jude said. “Although, my bed is bigger.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Foster whispered, smiling.