Page 50 of Worth the Wait
Chapter Ten
Friendly Fire
Present day
“So… you, uh, know Nathan Carter?” Jude’s voice was casual, but the question landed like a stone in Freddie’s gut.
Freddie got into the car, starting the engine, clenching the steering wheel a little too tight as Jude climbed in beside him, juggling his bag and a stack of papers onto the passenger side floor.
“Yeah,”he said eventually. “Sort of.”
Jude adjusted his glasses, glancing sideways. “Because of Alfie? He’s the teen you mentioned Sunday. The one you had to arrest for assault. Possibly drugs?”
Freddie winced.Brilliant.This was exactly why he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Why he shouldn’t be policing in the same damn postcode he grew up in. What every instructor at Essex Police College had warned him about.Don’t police your own town. Too messy. Too personal.He’d nodded along, cocky and sure it wouldn’t apply to him.
Yet here he was. With Jude, whom he’d kissed, who he maybe liked orcould’veliked, now teaching the son of the man Freddie still dreamt about. Ached for. Couldn’t scrub from his system no matter how many years or bodies had passed.
He sighed, eyes fixed on the road. “We, uh… went to school together. This one, funnily enough.” Freddie settled on the safest version of the truth. “Back when it was still Worthbridge Comprehensive. Before the Academy rebrand.”
“Ah.” Jude glanced out the window. “That must be… awkward.”
Freddie gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah. Could say that.”
Jude hesitated, then added, “I heard he’s back from the army. Do you know why? What happened? Where Alfie’s mum is?”
Freddie closed his eyes for half a second too long, then jerked them open again.Stupid. You’re driving.
“Can we not?” His strain leaked into every word. “Not right now.”
The car settled into a heavy silence. Only the quiet hum of the engine filling the space, underscoring the tension winding tighter in Freddie’s chest.
“Sorry,” Jude said after a moment. “I didn’t mean to push. It’s… the more I understand about Alfie’s situation, the better I can support him in class.”
Freddie forced a smile. Of course, Jude cared. Thoughtful. Steady. Compassionate to a fault. And it only made Freddie feel worse. Because Jude wasn’t the problem. He was good. Solid. A man he should want to come home to.
But he wasn’tNathan.
Having Jude beside him in the car, all soft-spoken concern and good intentions, only highlighted the hollow ache inside Freddie. The one he’d been trying to fill since the second Nathan walked out of his life. When Nathan had been away, Freddie could lie to himself. Could pretend that whatever he was building with whoever he had been with at the time might one day be enough.
But Nathan wasn’t away anymore.
He was back.
Indefinitely.
The rest of the drive was quiet. Not peaceful. Awkward.Loaded. Jude must’ve felt it too, though he didn’t say another word. He stared out the window as if realising too late he’d boarded the wrong train.
Get through the match. Take him home. Then be honest.
Harrow Park loomed into view. Its community gym, tennis courts and netball hoops buzzing with late-day activity. The car park was already half full, the overflow spilling onto the verges. Freddie pulled into a spot near the changing huts and the moment he stepped out, he spotted Reece. Helmet under his arm, full leathers peeled down to his waist and grinning as he held court with the fire squad. Reece lifted a hand in greeting. Freddie gave a tight nod. Nothing more. No energy forthat.
He popped the boot, grabbed his sports bag, and slung it over his shoulder as Jude stepped out of the passenger side, zipping up his coat to stave off the sea breeze rolling inland across the pitch.
“I’ll head over to the sidelines, yeah?” Jude scanned the gathering crowd. “Find a spot to cheer you on.”
Freddie nodded, biting back the guilt clawing through his chest. Jude didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be dragged along into some emotional holding pattern while Freddie’s head and heart twisted in knots over someone else. But Jude had wandered off easily enough, spotting a few women gathered near the sideline. Teachers, maybe? Or school mums he knew from the PTA. They ushered him into their fold, and he stepped into it as if he belonged there.
That helped. A little.
