Ash’s face broke into a broad smile.
“My husband is teaching himself,” he said. “He won’t mind you borrowing it.”
Husband. Rusty had heard that from men alotwhile he’d been here.
“This town is astoundingly gay,” he said without thinking. Ash didn’t necessarily know he was gay, and he might take that the wrong way.
And Rustyreallyneeded his help right now.
Thankfully, Ash chuckled before Rusty could even open his mouth to apologize.
“Right? We didn’t notice until we moved in here, but… it’s a nice place. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never lived anywhere I felt safer or more accepted.”
“I do kinda get that vibe,” Rusty said. “This isn’t a bad little place.”
“Maybe not as exciting as where you’re from,” Ash said. “But it has its charms.”
Rusty chuckled about that. “There’s a few little bookshop cafés like this in Melbourne. They’re some of my favorite places.”
“Well, you’re welcome here anytime. To play, or just to hang out.”
Rusty opened his mouth to say he wasn’t staying, but he didn’t want to disappoint Ash. The guy seemed nice, and he was offering to let Rusty borrow a guitar.
“Sounds good. Probably have to get a guitar of my own, though.”
Ash’s eyes widened. “Oh, right, that’s probably kinda urgent, huh? I’ll be right back,” he said, heading for the stairs at the back of the store.
Rusty breathed a sigh of relief, glad he had one less thing to worry about. Things were starting to go according to plan.
Just as he finished having that thought, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled it out, wrinkling his nose when he saw it was his father calling.
He had to take the call. It could have been an emergency, though he suspected, somehow, that it wasn’t.
“Hello?” Rusty answered, trying to sound less annoyed than he was by the interruption.
“I thought you were sorting all this out and coming straight home,” his father said.
Rusty’s jaw tightened. “I’m allowed to be wherever I like,” he responded. “I’m a grown man, and you can do your photo op without me.”
“Have you solved your little problem yet?”
Rusty clenched his teeth.Little problem.
That was all Blake was to his father. A problem.
He didn’t care about Blake’s feelings, or Rusty’s, or anyone else’s. All he could see was how this affectedhim, and what he wanted Rusty to do about it.
“Problem,” Rusty said, keeping his voice as even as he could.
“Would you prefer mistake?”
Rusty moved the phone far enough away from his mouth that his father wouldn’t hear him take a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself not to respond immediately.
He was angry. Angrier about this than he had been about anyone else.
His dad could belittle him as much as he wanted, fine, but not Blake.
