Here it comes. The apology. For still being in love with his best friend.
The pebble in Noah’s pocket burned. What had possessed him to keep carrying it? Now, when Wade left, he’d have to deal with it.
A large, insistent hand clasped Noah’s upper arm and Wade stepped forward urgently. “I have to talk to you. We have to talk.”
Rip the band aid off, have it done, move on. It was the sensible move to make, only . . .
Only Luc sat in his living room, drowning in tears.
Noah shook his head. “Wade—”
“Noah, please.”
“—Luc is here.”
Wade startled. Stiffened.
“His parents found out about him. They kicked him out.”
The blood drained from Wade’s face; he pushed urgently into the cottage.
“Luc,” the heavy depth of Wade’s concern carried from the living room, and Noah stared at the garden, at escape.
But tea.
And . . . and some torturous part of him needed to hear it all. See it for himself.
He approached with two mugs and soft footsteps.
Wade sat in the middle of the couch; Luc had curled against him, face buried at his armpit, fist clenched around a handful of Wade’s t-shirt. Wade murmured to him, caressing his back.
“I knew they’d do this. I knew it,” Luc said. And later, “But I had to, Wade. I want a future too.”
Noah should have left but he stood, back to them, staring at Wade’s car-birds on the wall. He swallowed hard and harder.
“We’ll figure all this out. We will.”
“There’s m-more. It’s all my fault. I’m so, so sorry.” Luc sniffed. In the reflection on the glass over the Ford Falcon, he saw Luc look up at Wade, trembling. “They guessed. You and me.”
Wade’s hand stopped roaming circles on Luc’s back.
“I’m not sure if they’ll call your mum or . . . It’s your news to tell, not theirs. I told them that, but . . .”
“I see.” Wade nodded calmly. “I suppose we’d better face this right away.”
Wade pushed to his feet and held a hand out for Luc. He took it, head bowed.
“Sorry, Noah,” Wade said. “We have to go.”
“I understand.” He did. Completely.
“Thank you for taking care of Luc.” Wade’s grim face met his, lines tightened with worry for what the rest of the day would bring.
“If you need anything . . .”
A nod. Wade steered Luc toward the door, stopping only for his backpack.
A whisper of movement on the porch, and the door shut with finality.
It was fine. He was fine. He would be fine.
Such was life.
He’d drink these untouched cups of tea, square his shoulders, and move on.
A . . . a book would help.
Ink blurred and sharpened at one passage.
She was stronger alone, and her own good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as with regrets so poignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be.
This. Noah would be this, too.
He snapped the book shut. There was cleaning to be done, bedclothes to change.
The doorbell again.
Noah finished the last pillow, stomach swirling. He knew it wouldn’t be Wade this time, it couldn’t be. Yet until he turned the knob and Brandon smiled at him, he’d hoped.
“Brandon. Everything okay?”
Brandon glanced at the pot in his hand. “Soup, in case you were hungry. I’ll set it on the stove.”
Noah moved aside to let Brandon pass.
“Zach asked me pick some things up for him. Dry clothes, mostly. Noah, are you okay?”
Hurriedly, Noah blinked the sting from his eyes. He settled against the counter and rubbed his short beard, chuckling. “Thank you for the soup. Glad you found Zach.”
“He was worried about you, too, Noah. I had to stop him from charging over here earlier. You looked . . . preoccupied.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
From behind him, a sneeze, followed by Zach—in a bizarre grey costume—stumbling into the room. “Talk about what?”
Brandon pressed his lips together. “I told you to rest. I’ll bring everything.”
“You’d have to go through my underwear drawer and there are . . . things. I’ll do it.” His brother had never looked so flushed in his life. Actually, he seemed . . . fevered.
Noah moved over to him and felt his forehead. Warm. And Zach was shivering. “You’re coming down with something.”
Zach brushed his hand away and brotherly eyes narrowed on him. “What do you have to talk about? Why are you so pale?” Zach herded him toward the table, and Brandon pulled out a chair.
Noah sank into it. “I’m fine. Just—”
Zach dropped to his knees and looked right into Noah’s eyes. “I know you can deflect anything, but—”
“Deflect anything?” Noah laughed hollowly. “I don’t know where you get the idea that I’m made of steel.” His voice tightened, and he looked away. “You have no idea . . . Luc is in love with Wade and wants him back. I’ve known for days that eventually Wade would choose his ex. His best friend. Just because I don’t go running off through the rain, doesn’t mean . . .”
