Page 66 of Unexpected Boyfriends

“I thought Max’s family had disowned him?”

“His parents have, yeah, but his grandma’s chill. She’s been his safe haven a few times. That’s where he went when I…” Shannon’s voice trails away. He doesn’t like thinking about the time he broke Max’s heart, and he still beats himself up about it. “God, I was such a dick.”

In the background, I hear a voice say gently, “Move on, babe. I have.” I think I hear the sound of kissing.

“Anyway,” Shannon resumes a moment or two later, after I've had to listen to some disgusting slurpy sounds, “he can stay with her. And she understands the situation and that he needs to stay under the radar.”

Relief sweeps over me and I let out the mother of all sighs.

“Oh, thank god.”

“No, thank Max. Or thank his grandma when he gets there,” Shannon chuckles, then grows serious. “Good luck, man. I hope your guy makes it out of this okay. I’ll text you the details, okay? And let me know if there’s anything else we can do. We’re both pretty steamed up over this.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Shannon ends the call, and as promised, texts through a name and address. As I head back to the peninsula, I consider the logistics of getting Justin there safely. He can’t get on a plane or any form of public transportation because of the risk of being recognized, since he’s now a missing person. That leaves only one option that I can think of. Someone has to drive him. And because I don’t trust anyone to protect him more than I will, that someone will have to be me.

Closer to home, butnotat the shopping village where they know me, I pull into a parking space next to an Italian restaurant and pick up the two large pizzas I called ahead for.

It’s early afternoon and Justin must be hungry and wondering where I am. A sudden thought sends chills down my back.

What if he’s not there when I get back? What if the shame and the guilt and all the twisted emotions they’ve heaped on him came back while I was gone and he decided I wouldn’t want him,couldn’twant him?

Fuck.I have to get to him. Panic starts to overtake me, and I break out in a cold sweat. I’ve been away from him too long already. My hands are shaking as I navigate the bends and pull up in the little carpark behind the Sandy Point beach, at a safe distance from the boatsheds.

I grab the pizzas and a couple of my shopping bags and hurry along the road and down the back entrance to the sheds. I can hear voices in the distance, but I can’t see anyone, and I conclude there must be people further down the beach. It’s all clear around the boatsheds, though, and I don’t hesitate as I take the last few steps to the old shed.

I put the pizzas and bags down with trembling hands, and after looking around to make sure there’s no-one to see me, prise open the loose boards and frantically look inside. My eyes take their time adjusting to the gloom after the bright sunlight. At first, I can’t see anything. It’s all quiet in the shed, and for an awful moment I think he’s gone.

Then I see him, a pale shadow slumped against the wall, in virtually the same place I left him. He seems to be sleeping.

The tension drains out of me in relief and maybe I sigh, because I catch a glint of white as he opens his eyes.

“Justin?” I whisper.

“Axel?”

The relief in his voice matches my own, and he scrambles to his feet as I climb into the shed as quickly as I can, bringing the pizzas and bags.

I rush to him and embrace him fiercely. He hugs me back and we stay like that for a long time. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, and the faint tremble that shakes his body mirrors the shaking of my own.

“Fuck,” I whisper into his neck. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wait for me, that you’d be gone when I came back.”

Justin lets out a choked sound and holds me tighter. Then after a minute, he releases his grip, and pulling away a little, gifts me one of those sweet smiles I remember so well.

“No. I knew you’d come back,” he says, “you left something valuable behind.” He fingers the neck chain I’d placed around his neck that morning.

It’s not really funny, but I smile anyway. He’s trying. A little bit of the Justin I know is coming back. He just needs time, and love, and a whole lot of therapy.

“That’s not the only thing I left behind,” I chide him, playfully, “and you know it.”

Suddenly, he wrinkles his nose.

“Is thatpizza?” he sounds excited.

“Yep. Thought you might be hungry by now.”

“I am now. Pizza. My favorite!”

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