Page 73 of In Step

“It’s hard for me to put aside those old feelings, you know?” he began, staring at his hand stroking the fur of Tank’s back before looking back up at me. “It’s hard to get perspective. I hated my school years, all of them, and I’m still so fucking angry about it. The only good thing in my life back then was dance. This town was a small-minded prison, and school sucked for a lot of reasons, but mostly because guys like you made my life miserable. The only safe space I had was at home or on the dancefloor.”

Pain flashed in his eyes and my heart squeezed, knowing I’d been responsible for some of it. It also struck me that in some ways, Judah and I had been mirror images of each other back then—his safe space at home, mine anywherebutthere.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of here,” he continued. “And then when I came back, it was almost impossible for me to see you as anything different from who you were back then. Maybe because I never saw you in between.Younow andyouback then are bookended together without any break, without any chance to change.”

Oh god, we were really doing this, we were finally talking.“I get that.”

He snorted. “Morgan says that anger is like this warm, reassuring blanket that’s hard to give up because it’s safe and seems easy. To change means you have to make an effort, and that’s true. Fuck knows, it’s been like that with me and Leroy, and I’m sure he feels the same. Iwasa diva as a kid, and Ididtake up a lot of my parent’s attention, not to shut him out, but because I didn’t really have anyone else. I didn’t evenseeLeroy, you know. Not really. We had nothing in common and four years between us. I didn’t see his pain and he didn’t understand mine, either.”

Judah sighed and reached for his coffee, taking another swallow before sinking back into the couch. “I want to understand why you did what you did to me, especially since you knew you were gay. And fuck me, I’m still getting my head around that little gem. I mean, hell, Kane, I could’ve done with actually knowing about you back then, knowing I wasn’t the only fucking queer for miles.” He gave a weak grin.

He stared at me, lost somewhere in his past, eyes glistening, and I recognised the loneliness I saw. I knew that place intimately, knew it to my bones.

Judah drew a shaky breath. “And in case you’re wondering, Abe has told me zip about you, but he did ask some questions that got me thinking. Back then, you were never the one I was worried about in that little group of fuckers. I always saw you as a tagalong. Ineversaw it coming, not from you. And then afterward, you kind of disappeared. I hardly saw you around school at all and never back with them. I guess I want to know why.”

I sighed and swallowed the dregs of my coffee, taking my time to slide the empty cup onto the coffee table before answering. “Okay.” I looked into his earnest eyes and took a steadying breath. “But to be clear, my decision about not coming out back then isn’t up for discussion.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

And so, I told him everything. I told him about losing my mother. About my father’s abuse. About realising I was gay and knowing I could never tell my family. About the beatings and the homophobia and the ripping apart of my family. About what happened that day, why I snapped, how terrified I was that the other boys would talk and my father would find out and think there was something between Judah and me, and how ashamed I was after, how my father hated Judah, but how I actually admired him—an admission that came as a shock to Judah.

I told him about the farm and university and about my first real taste of men and how giddy that revelation had made me. He’d smiled at that, although the smile slipped when I’d reminded him I was still in the closet and it wasn’t exactly the romantic experience I’d hoped for.

I told him about the land and my mother’s will, my sister and the kittens, and why I’d finally left the farm earlier that year. And lastly, I told him about his mother finding me in my car and the relief of landing a job and a place to stay.

I spoke for nearly an hour. Judah threw a question into the mix now and then, but mostly he just listened and passed the box of Kleenex when it all became too much, after taking one for himself, which had pretty much thrown me.

And when I was done talking, I slumped in my chair and stared at my feet, exhausted but oddly calm at the same time, having finally told my story to the man who needed to hear it the most, the man I’d hurt so much.

At first, Judah said nothing, although his gaze burned hot on my face. I couldn’t meet it, too scared of what I might find there—rejection, more cold anger, disgust, or maybe even some kind of twisted satisfaction in my pain.

“I get it,” he finally said, so quietly I almost had to ask him to repeat it. “It doesn’t excuse what you did. Hell, I could’ve been down a kidney, but I guess it explains it as much as it can. To be honest, I feel a bit better knowing I hadn’t read you wrong at the start.”

I finally looked up to find soft eyes watching me, and I blinked. I’d seen that look before, but always directed at Morgan or Leroy or any of Judah’s family or friends—neverat me.

“And your father’s a fucking arsehole. Goes without saying,” he grunted. “Growing up with that breathing down your neck is something I can’t even begin to imagine, and I’m really sorry that happened to you. I’m not sure I would’ve survived in your place.”

The admission surprised me. “But you were always so strong, so ballsy, even as a kid. It was something I admired about you. I wanted tobeyou. To have that fuck-the-world attitude.”

Judah snorted. “Trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted that, not really. Besides, I could afford to be like that because Mum and Dad always had my back. You had no one, and I think that sucked more.” He paused. “But on another topic, you almost kissed me, huh?” His lips curled up in a shit-eating grin.

I threw a cushion at him and he ducked, laughing. “Back then, you were the only fucking gay guy I knew.” I shook my head. “Hell, I’d have kissed old Mike, the janitor, if he was gay and had fallen into my arms.”

Judah’s whole face screwed up. “Ew. He smelled like turpentine and three-day-old fish.”

“Exactly.”

Judah laughed, then blew a slow breath and started picking at the hem of his sweater. “And you and Abe?”

I sighed. “We just... clicked.” I couldn’t hide my smile. “It wasn’t planned. In fact, it was the last thing I was looking for, as you can probably imagine. He just seemed to want to get to know me.Me.” I patted my chest and Judah’s gaze followed. “Like he couldn’t see the fit between what he’d been told by Leroy and who I was now. And you have no idea what that meant to me. It was so fucking refreshing. When I’m with Abe, I feel seen for who I am without all the fucking baggage that I carry around in this town and with your family.” I threw up a hand. “I know there’s good reason for the baggage... but it’s still hard.”

Judah let out a breath as he stared at me, long and hard. I squirmed under his gaze but it didn’t relent, like he was looking for... something. Finally, he arched a brow. “It probably helps that he’s hot as all fuck, right?”

I rolled my eyes and grinned like a ridiculous person. “It’s a... consideration.”

He snorted. “Fucking silver foxes. What is it with us men?Allthe dancers had a crush on him, menandwomen, even me.”

“Really?” I chuckled. “The first time I saw him dancing in the studio with his shirt off, I just about swallowed my fucking tongue.”

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