Page 27 of Worth the Wait
“So, howdoyou feel about him being back?”
Now that was the million quid question. The one chewing at the edges of his chest, wearing through the armour he’d built up over years.
What could he even say? That the moment he saw Nathan again, his world had shifted off its axis? That the scar he’d spent years pretending didn’t hurt had flared up as if never fully healed? That even seeing a stranger wholookedlike Nathan in a crowd had always tugged at him, like gravity refusing to let go. And now, standing in front of the real thing, felt like a gut punch he couldn’t breathe past?
“Apparently he’s working at his dad’s garage now,” Piper said, filling the loaded silence.
“Right.”
She gave him a sly side-eye. “That rust bucket of yours still whining every time you turn the key?”
Freddie huffed a laugh, but it came out thinner than he intended. “Subtle, Pipes.”
She grinned as Ryan began to squirm, his little head lifting from Freddie’s chest, mouth opening as if he was hunting for his tit. Since Freddie didn’t have one to offer, Piper leant over and gently scooped Ryan into her arms.
“I do my best,” she said with a wink.
As she bounced the baby on her hip and wandered towards the kitchen, Freddie stared at the front door, thoughts spinning.
Could he…?
It wouldn’t take much.
A quick fix made to look like a fault. Something harmless. Easy to undo. Loosen a spark plug lead, maybe unplug a sensor. Enough to make the engine stutter and justify swinging by the garage. Nothing serious. Nothing dangerous.
Long enough to need help.
Long enough to seehim.
He told himself it was practical. Strategic. Curiosity. But he knew better.
He’d spent half his teenage years sprawled on the driveway beside Nathan, watching him tinker with old cars under his dad’s grumbling instructions. Nathan had been all grease-stained fingers and focused frowns, as if engines listened to him when no one else did. And Freddie had thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Nathan with flushed skin, knuckles bruised and blackened, voice low and rough like the engines he worked on. He’d be explaining something, and Freddie had no idea what. He hadn’t heard a single word. He’d just stared, heat rising like a fever and falling in love, one sun-drenched Saturday at a time.
He cleared his throat. “Hey, Pipes? You still got that little tool kit under the sink?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Something I want to check on the car.”
A lie.
It wasn’t the worst lie he’d ever told.
No. That one was quieter. Simpler. One he whispered to himself in the quiet moments. One that had settled into his bones.
The one he still told himself, again and again.
That he wasn’t still in love with the best friend who’d broken his heart.
That was the lie he’d stuck to for years.
But crouched beside the bonnet a few minutes later, skimming his fingers over cold metal, Freddie felt it hit. Sharp and stupid and inevitable. His pulse already quickened at the thought of seeing him again. Because Nathan wasn’t just back in town. He was back in his bloodstream. Taking up space in his chest like nothing else had managed to in years.
Why was he back? What had dragged him to Worthbridge now? Was it Katie? Were they together? Had they ever been together? Had he loved her, or done what he thought he was supposed to after that night?
Did he bury the past, scrub it clean, rewrite it?
Freddie didn’t know. Because Nathan didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address when he disappeared. And now he was back. Older, broader, battle-worn in all the ways Freddie hadn’t seen happen.
