Jude gave the barest nod, as if agreeing to something still not sitting right with him. Warren stepped out the car, letting Jude climb into the driver’s seat. He waited until Jude started the engine, headlights washing across the lay-by, before heading for his MG. Once behind the wheel, he keyed the engine but kept the lights off for a beat, scanning the mirrors, the treeline, the road behind. Still clean. No shadow cars, no loiterers. Then heswitched the beams on and eased out, checking Jude’s reflection in the rear-view. Two car lengths back, not crowding him.
Every few seconds, Warren drifted his gaze from the road to that set of headlights. The urge to cut the distance, to pull him over and shove him into the passenger seat, sat hot in his chest. Tokeephim, where Warren could control the variables. But control was already gone. He’d given it up in the back seat of Jude’s car, and no amount of UC training could make him believe otherwise.
The route back was instinctive. Round the industrial estate, cut through the quieter residential streets, then the back road bringing them to the house. He pulled up to the kerb, lights still on until Jude rolled in behind him. Then he killed the engine. Sat there for a second with his hand on the keys, the weight of what he was about to do pressing against the back of his skull.
One more compromise.
He stepped out, the night air biting, and waited until Jude joined him on the pavement. “Let’s get inside.”
Chapter eighteen
Lay it All Down
Jude took in the stripped-back lines of Warren’s place and inhaled.
Bare walls, furniture with no softness, nothing to ease the edges. It didn’t feel lived in. More stopgap than sanctuary. A bolt-hole. He’d been in plenty of places like this, rooms without photographs or knick-knacks, the absence itself a declaration: this is a house, not a home.
Warren had only just moved in. But weren’t those the first things people unpacked? The pieces that anchored you, reminded you where you belonged.
Not that Jude was in any position to judge.
So he didn’t.
He was already treading far enough beyond his own lines of safety without picking apart anyone else’s.
Back in the car, he’d been reckless. In a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be in years. He hadn’t let another man touch him since… well, he didn’t want to drag that ghost into the room now. It had taken too much to get here. To trust his own body again and feel the weight of another without flinching. To stop hearing the echoes of someone else’s control in his head.
Of course he’d wanted. He was still a man. And he still woke some nights with a bone-deep ache for another’s skin against his, for heat and scent and the solid press of someone over him. He’d taken the edge off himself often enough. With porn. His hand. But that was nothing compared to the real thing.
Trust had been the slowest, hardest thing to relearn. To believe a man wouldn’t use his size as a weapon. Wouldn’t turn the weight of his body into a cage. And the first man he’d tried dating after years alone, years ruled by fear, had been Freddie. Maybe he’d chosen him because he was a police officer. By trade he was meant to be safe. Trustworthy. And even though Freddie had tried to take things further after a couple of harmless dates and tentative kisses, Jude hadn’t been sure he could do it. Not without handing over all the secrets he kept locked down.
The ghosts on his shoulders had been too heavy.
Then Nathan had walked back into Freddie’s life, and that was that. Jude was relieved he’d never let Freddie in too far. Because that would have been its own kind of torture. Breaking down walls for a man who loved someone else? No. Better to stay alone.
But now there wasWarren. Broad shoulders. Solid frame. Power that should have made Jude flinch, but instead drew him in. He wanted it. Wantedhim. The strength, the unshakable steadiness, the way his presence seemed to occupy every inch of a room. He’d let him close. Let him touch.
And now here he was.
In Warren’s house.
Jude wasn’t even sure what had carried him through the door. Impulse, need, or some quiet surrender. But once inside, safety suddenly felt within reach. Tangible. Dangerous too, though. Because safety was a lie he’d been told before. Warren might not raise fists or spit threats but lies hurt just as deep.Something about Warren didn’t add up, and Jude’s heart, as fragile as his body, knew it.
The door clicked shut behind them.
“Drink?” Warren asked. “Tea, coffee, water?”
“Water’s good. Yeah. Thanks.”
Warren nodded him towards the kitchen where he retrieved two bottles from the fridge, passing one over. Jude twisted off the cap, took a sip, his eyes fixed on Warren doing the same. The silence stretched until it pulled a small, nervous laugh out of him.
“You married?” Jude asked, cutting straight to it. Better to rip the plaster off than peel it slowly.
Warren hesitated, throat working before he answered. “No.”
“Separated then? Divorce dragging on?”
“No.”
