Almost.
Because he still remembered the one truth he’d learned too well. The one that kept him breathing.
He didn’t have the power to make him leave.
Callum paused. But he stayed there. Suffocating Jude with only his heady presence. Hands roaming up his back, heavy breaths suggesting he was getting himself ready. Then a sharp buzz cut through the air. One of Callum’s burners. He stepped back with a low chuckle.
“Saved by the bell.” The sound of plastic scraping denim as he fished the phone out didn’t feel like safety. But Jude would take it. A click, and Callum’s voice tuned casual, businesslike, and he wandered into the next room.
Jude stayed bent over the counter for a moment, muscles locked, swallowing down air in deep pulls. He straightened by degrees, forcing his spine upright, coaxing himself to breathe as if nothing had happened.
Thenhisphone rang.
He flinched hard, pulse kicking. Fumbled it from his pocket with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Jude? It’s Nate from Carter Cars. Alfie’s dad?”
Jude could have cried.
“Sorry it’s late but the part for your Romeo came in about five, so I stayed back and fitted it. If you want it tonight, I can hang around… or drive it over.”
Relief punched through Jude’s chest so hard it left him dizzy. “I’ll come get it.”
He ended the call before anything else could be said, grabbed his keys from the hook, and slipped out before Callum’s voice from the other room could follow him into the night.
The walk to Carter Cars was long, the wind off the sea carrying the tang of salt and rotting leaves, sharp enough to sting his nose. But the cold outside didn’t trouble him half as much as the darkness he’d left behind in his house. He trembled, survival mode burning through him like static. He’d been without his car for weeks. If it was finally ready, maybe he could breathe again. Maybe he could run. His trainers scuffed over gravel as he cut through the park, breath misting in quick bursts. By the time he turned the corner past the chain-link fences and the Carter Cars forecourt came into view, he was breathless.
Light spilled from the open garage bay. Inside, Nathan was at the workbench, sorting tools, with Freddie behind him, leaning against his Peugeot, watching Nathan with a lingering gaze.
Jude slowed without meaning to.
“The survey came back all sound,” Freddie said to Nathan. “We’re good for the exchange in a couple of weeks.”
“Perfect.” Nathan clanged a tool into the box. “Told the old man we’ll be out before Christmas.”
“Be so fucking good to get some time together.”
Nathan glanced over his shoulder. “We’re together now.”
“This your idea of a date. Me watching you get all filthy.”
Nathan chuckled, sliding a spanner back into its rack. “You love me filthy. And I’m fixing your car. Should I be charging you for the view and all?”
Freddie tilted his head, roaming his gaze from the oil-streaked overalls hanging loose around Nathan’s waist to the vest clinging to his shoulders. “How much is yourfullservice?”
Nathan turned to face him. “Expensive.”
Freddie widened his grin. “Babe, half these tools will be mine the second we move in.”
“Still not letting you anywhere near my tools.”
“Too late.” Freddie winked, waggling his tongue. “Been near your tools plenty.”
Nathan shook his head, crossing the floor in two easy strides. “Then you need to be dirty too.” He swiped a smear of oil across Freddie’s cheek, grinning when Freddie made a mock-offended noise.
Freddie shoved him, light and playful, but Nathan caught him by the belt loops, hauled him in, and kissed him before pressing him back onto the Peugeot, where Freddie wrapped his arms around Nathan’s neck, deepening it.
Jude’s stomach twisted. Not with jealousy exactly, but with something heavier. The ache of watching two people touch because they wanted to. Not because one of them needed to prove they could. That kiss wasn’t about control or winning. It was… easy. Mutual. And all Jude could think about was Warren. How Warren had kissed him like that for all of a millisecond before stopping it.
