His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,70

it, holding Jude’s hand as soon as he returned it. He laced their fingers like that was normal as he coaxed a smile from the beach ball’s crying owner. And it was normal, Jude decided as they said their goodbyes. Holding hands in front of kids wasn’t about attracting attention. It was how acceptance started.

Even though Jude only imagined his own father’s turned back, his fingers flexed regardless. Tamping down the urge to let go wasn’t easy. So what if Dad had made his feelings clear without ever saying a word? He’d been wrong about Marc based on no more than black nail polish and eyeliner—the man was artistic, not gay. And if he’d ever thought Rob’s brand of open affection was a sign of weakness, he’d have been wrong about that as well. There was more strength in Rob than Jude knew how to measure.

Rob chatted while they strolled, about what Jude barely registered, just knowing one thing for sure at that moment—Rob’s happiness was transparent, his assumption that he could show it a much-needed lesson that Jude wished he’d witnessed when he was young.

A tug of regret pulled hard—turning his back on Marc when they’d been kids had been a real waste. He might have had someone to confide in about feeling different. Instead of being lonely, Jude could have had a friend that whole time. More to the point, he could have been one.

He thought about reaching out and trying harder when they got back, and his spirits lifted. As for Lou and Marc maybe being an item…. For the first time in months, he was glad he might not get to see his dad’s reaction to that as well.

Guilt pulled him straight down like an anchor.

What kind of person wished for shit like that?

Rob looked Jude’s way, his brow furrowed before he threw a verbal lifeline. “Are you even listening to me, fish face?”

“No. I mean yes.” Rob’s question moored him to the present. “Of course I am… what did you say?”

“God, you’re such an airhead. I have no idea what I see in you.” Rob slipped an arm around his waist, huffing. “Apart from your face, of course. And your body.” There was only one word for his next action; he snuggled into Jude’s side as they strolled down a street lined with shops selling vacation souvenirs and postcards. “Not gonna lie, I’m finding that cock of yours quite compelling as well, which reminds me….” He darted into a mini-supermarket, out of sight until he stood from where he’d bent down to select a couple of containers. His shout to Jude in the doorway was hardly private. “Do you prefer warming lube or normal?”

Every head in the store turned Rob’s way before pivoting to see who he spoke to.

“Jesus.”

“What did you say?” Rob shouted before answering his own question. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get both.”

That was one way to jump the queue, Jude supposed after retreating, spying through the window as customers with full shopping baskets let Rob cut in line with his two items.

A Cheshire cat’s smile would have been smaller than the one Rob wore as he rejoined him. “There. That’s tonight’s entertainment sorted.”

“For them?” Thank God they didn’t live here.

“No, for us.” Rob winked and twirled the bag he carried. “In fact, I’m tempted to skip dinner to get the party started early, only I think you’ll need to keep your strength up. Let’s eat,” he said as if he hadn’t just embarrassed Jude half to death in public. Rob started whistling a sea shanty before they’d gone far, bursting into song about pirates. Heads turned again, all eyes drawn to Rob like iron filings to a magnet.

This was what it would be like, Jude guessed, if he stopped searching for his parents.

If he spent every day with Rob instead, he’d have twelve months a year of this brand of bullshit; three-hundred and sixty-five days of him living life at full volume, and fuck who might be looking; millions upon millions of moments where Jude couldn’t wallow in fear of guilt by association.

There would be no-one left to judge him.

He stopped stock-still in the middle of a bustling street, Rob walking ahead, still swinging his bag and whistling. Jude couldn’t make himself follow, mired so very deeply between a rock and a hard place.

He wanted both options.

He wanted both so much—to be with Rob, like this, just like this, out and oh-so-happy. And he wanted his parents, alive and safe at home, however