Page 43 of Worth the Wait
He collected Alfie, guiding him out into the corridor and as they pushed through the glass doors into daylight, Nathan dropped his hand to the back of Alfie’s neck. Not a warning. Nor control. Just contact. Reassurance.I’ve got you,that’s what he meant. And maybe Alfie got it too, because he didn’t shrug him off.
Not until they hit the car park and Nathan stuttered.
Because there, leaning against a red Peugeot, arms crossed tight, posture casual, was Freddie Webb.
Backlit by the April sun, jaw shadowed with stubble, dark hair slipped back into that up and over that looked too deliberate not to have taken effort, Freddie met his gaze and his lips parted. Nathan caught the scent before he registered the expression. Aftershave, crisp and clean, carrying on the breeze as if aimed right at him.
Fuck, he smelt good. Always had.
Nathan’s stomach flipped, traitorous and immediate, and he dropped his hand from Alfie’s neck. Alfie glanced between them, brows drawn. Nathan didn’t miss the flash of recognition in his eyes. He’d forever remember the copper who nicked him. But he didn’t say it. Although he hovered awkwardly, watching. Clearly noticing the unrest between them. How could anyone not? It was palpable.
Freddie blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting to see him either, and he unfurled his arms from their cross. “Hey.”
Nathan swallowed. “Hey. What are you—”
Before he could finish, a window slid open behind him and Mr Ellison leant out, cheerful and oblivious. “Sorry, Freddie! I’ll be two minutes. Tops!”
Unease bled out of Freddie. “Yeah. No worries.”
Of course. Of fucking course,thatwas happening.
His father’s voice rang out, uninvited and ugly:In and out of each other’s beds, that lot.
First the fireman. Now the teacher.
And Nathan, like a fucking idiot, was still standing there nursing a crush as if it hadn’t been his own fucking fault for walking away from him in the first place.
He had no right to feel angry. It wasn’t as though he’d stayed clean or celibate, pining in noble silence. No, he’d taken what he could. Barracks beds, quiet corners, menwho didn’t ask questions and didn’t need answers. A few women, too, here and there. Ones who didn’t expect more than he could give. Even Katie, more than once. After Alfie. Before the spiral. When he was lonely, and she was warm, willing, and too familiar for it to feel like anything new. Each time, he told himself it meant something. Each time, he knew it didn’t.
And each time, he hated himself a little more.
Didn’t make it sting any less, though. Not when this wasFreddie. Not when the thought of him doing the same felt like a knife in his chest.
He turned on his heel. “Come on, Alf.”
But Freddie’s voice caught up to him before he reached the car. “Nate—wait.”
Nathan stopped. Turned. Tried to hold himself together as Freddie launched away from his car and stuttered closer, shifting from one foot to the other and glancing from Nathan to Alfie as if he wasn’t sure if he should say anything at all. Then, with a breath scraped up from somewhere deep, he said,
“Look, I don’t even know if we’re talking or not. If you want me to talk to you. Or not. But it’s weird, yeah? Seeing you. Pretending like we don’t know each other.” He paused again, swallowing, as if the words cost something. “So I wanted to ask if maybe you… wanted to talk?”
Nathan held his gaze. And for that second, he didn’t know what the right answer was. Coming back to Worthbridge had been about Alfie. About pulling his kid out of a bad situation and giving him something better. He hadn’t thought through the Freddie part. Hadn’t dared to. He’d boxed it up. The way they got taught in basic. Keep it neat. Keep it buried.
But now here Freddie was, standing in front of him. Not buried at all.
Nathan jutted his chin towards Alfie. “Go wait in the car, Alf.” He fished the keys from his pocket and handed them over.
Alfie took them, casting a look between the two of them before slinking off towards his Fiesta. Silence rushed in behind him, heavier than it had any right to be.
Nathan turned back. “Alright.”
Freddie blinked. “Alrightwhat?”
“We can talk.”
That seemed to catch Freddie off guard. He straightened, chest rising as if he’d braced for rejection and got the opposite instead.
“Okay,” he said, quiet, surprised, then promptly said nothing at all.
