At the waiter’s approach, Mason held off until the plates were set in front of them and they were left alone.
“You’ve spent your whole life doing guard duty. You never had the chance to fuck up, get wild and crazy—there wasn’t any room for that. You always had to be there for Ilana. Because of your mom.”
“I didn’t mind. She’s my baby sister.”
“Of course you didn’t mind.” How could he phrase this without Jude blowing up? “You did what you were asked—you’re a kind and loving person. But don’t you see how you were cheated out of life? It was a heavy burden to put on a teenager, and while I respect your mother and the choices she made to keep her family safe, I can see with the clarity of someone not in the situation that you came out on the losing end.”
“Thanks,” Jude said sarcastically and turned his attention to his bagel. “I’ve had enough of this conversation for now.”
“Well, I haven’t. You don’t want to see it. I know you think I’m criticizing your mother, but I’m not. I think she was brave and fearless, how she fought for her children and against the disease that killed her.”
Seeing Jude’s eyes grow stormy and wet spurred Mason on. Whether they came out of this still together and stronger, or whether Jude told him to fuck off and go to hell, Mason knew Jude needed to hear the truth.
“But I also think you never had the chance to live and do things other kids did. You spent your twenties watching Ilana and Doug fall in love, but you didn’t get that chance yourself. The duty to her had embedded itself into your blood, and you couldn’t walk away. And now that Ilana is married, you’re left in limbo and don’t know what to do.”
Jude bit into his bagel, chewed, and swallowed. “So I’m a lost cause, is that what you’re saying?”
“Hell, no. You’re not lost. I’m here. Iseeyou. And I see who you are. And I think we’ve only just begun. If you let go and let it happen.”
“Since when did you become so rational? And if we’re going to be frank about each other, I always thought you were a party boy, mixing drinks and hopping from bed to bed.”
At college he had been, and for the first few years away, he’d been tempted. “It might surprise you that while I did enjoy the party scene, and as a bartender had every opportunity to hop from bed to bed—as you so delicately put it—I wasn’t that type.”
“No?” Jude’s expression remained unconvinced. “Doug used to tell me about your exploits and show me pictures. One of you dancing in Ibiza was particularly memorable.”
Mason recalled that trip. It was a wild time, and much of it now remained a blur of loud music, drinking, and parties into the early morning hours.
“Sure, I had fun. And was there sex everywhere? Absolutely. Drugs too. But just because it was there doesn’t mean I was into it all. I looked but didn’t partake. I might’ve been young, but I wasn’t naïve or stupid. Eventually I was coming home and settling down. I wasn’t about to risk it all for a night of cocaine and a big dick.”
Jude choked on his food. “Okay, well, that’s a picture.”
“Don’t you see? We’re all the sum of our parts. Yours are large and easy to fit together—helping your mother, taking care of Ilana, and work. Mine are a little more fractured and messy, without clean lines, but I’m trying to piece them together. Maybe I need a little more time and some help, but this is who I am.”
Without another word, he attacked his French toast, and they finished as much of their meal as they could. When the waiter had taken the remains away and they sat with nothing left between them but silence, Mason couldn’t be sure where he stood.
“I think you’re right.” Jude’s quiet statement cut through the fog of misery in his head, where he contemplated going home to his tiny room and staring at something stupid on television. Either that or apologizing to Jude and telling him to forget it.
His gaze snapped up. “What?”
Just then the waiter dropped off the bill by Jude, whose eyes crinkled with laughter. “Do I look like your sugar daddy that I get to pay for our lunch?”
“Sorry, but that’s a hard pass. I’m not into that at all. Much as I love having sex with you, I am not calling you ‘Daddy.’”
Jude snorted and threw some bills on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And go back to yours?” Mason held his breath. He so wanted to hear what Jude had to say.
“Yeah. I’ll get a car. It’s too hot to walk.”
Less than twenty minutes later, they walked into Jude’s apartment, where Mason went to the cabinet, took out the tequila he’d seen earlier, and poured them each a hefty splash. He added ice and handed a glass to Jude, who watched him with trepidation.
“Didn’t we get in trouble the last time we drank tequila?”
Mason downed a solid gulp, licked his lips, then kissed Jude. “Yeah, but that was before, when we didn’t know.” He left Jude and sprawled on the sofa, kicked off his flip-flops, and wiggled his toes. “Ahh.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That we wanted more than sex. Now, at the restaurant you were going to tell me why you thought I was right. And since that’s a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, I’m thinking, I need you to spill.”
