Page 59 of Sinful Sharing

Three months. Three goddamn months of wondering if he was alive, if he’d gotten himself hurt somewhere, if I’d ever see him again. And now he’s standing here like a ghost that decided to become flesh. His hair has grown longer, brushing his shoulders. He’s bundled against the lingering cold in a charcoal coat over a dark sweater, jeans, and sturdy boots.

He looks...

Christ.

He looks a little taller. Stronger. His shoulders have broadened beneath the coat, his frame leaner but more muscular, as though the last three months have carved something new into him.

Beautiful.

More beautiful than I remember. My fingers loosen around the stirrups, and it falls into the snow with a dull thud. My feet start moving. “Jude!” I shout toward the main house.

The front door flies open a few seconds later, and Jude steps outside, wiping his hands on a rag. “What?”

I point ahead. He freezes, every bit as stunned as I am. The difference is that happiness flashes across his face almost immediately. “Holy shit.”

He rushes toward Taylor, beating me there. Up close, the changes are even more obvious. His jaw is sharper, and there are faint shadows beneath his eyes. His face has matured somehow.

But something about his expression makes my stomach twist.

Without hesitation, Jude wraps Taylor in a tight embrace. “Oh, my fucking God.” His voice cracks. “You scared the shit out of us, pretty boy.”

I wait for Taylor to hug him back. He doesn’t. His arms stay rigid at his sides. After several long seconds, Jude seems to realize it too. He slowly pulls away. “What happened? Where have you been?”

Taylor lowers his eyes for a second before meeting Jude’s again. “I’ve been living in New York for a while now. I needed to get away.”

His calm voice clashes with the tension in his shoulders. “I had to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And I thought... if I stayed away long enough, I’d be able to move on.”

He swallows hard. The silence stretches as I wait for him to continue. Somehow, I suspect I won’t like what he will say next.

“But I couldn’t,” he finally mutters. “I realized if I’m ever going to move forward, I’ll need answers.”

“Answers?” Jude interjects with a frown.

“Yes.” Every muscle in my body goes rigid when Taylor asks, “Did you take me in because my mother paid you to?”

Jude and I share a glance. There is no use denying what I didn’t even want to hide from him. “Yes.”

Taylor grimaces. He closes his eyes.

“In hindsight, I should’ve followed my instincts and told you the truth, but your mother asked me not to,” I go on. “She wanted to keep the peace between you and her. I didn’t want to be the reason you two fell apart. I’m sorry that my decision hurt you.”

Jude’s hefty sigh fills the brief silence. He steps forward. “Taylor—“

“Was any of it real?” Taylor’s eyes open, his harsh gaze shifting from me to Jude. “Were you both using me?”

The question hangs in the air. Jude takes another step toward him. “No, Taylor. Every second with you was real—so real that I’ve been fucked up since you left. I kept expecting you to walk through the front door.”

The first sign of emotion runs across Taylor’s face. He blinks furiously, glancing at his feet. Jude lifts his chin with the tip of his finger. “So real that I could hardly fucking breathe.”

Taylor’s lips part. His eyes glisten. I should say something—anything. Instead, I stare at the man I’d spent months trying to convince myself was just another mistake.

It didn’t work.

It never will.

“I wish it weren’t real,” I murmur. Taylor shifts his gaze to me, a slight frown bunching the skin between his brows. “I wish I could look at you and feel absolutely nothing. It would’ve made my life a whole lot easier.”

Taylor snorts, his eyes watering even more. “At least you’re honest.”