Page 85 of Still Bruised
Jude stormed down the stairs, tossing out a “Have a nice night,” as he passed Foster.
Foster’s hand snaked out and snagged his arm.
Jude spun, glaring.
Foster’s brows furrowed. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Why?”
“I came and you weren’t here.”
Foster’s frown deepened. “I’m here.”
“Now—but where were you?” Jude asked.
“Out,” Foster replied. “I didn’t think you were coming over.”
“You invited me. I said I’d meet you here. I came. You weren’t here.”
Foster pulled his phone out and swiped over the screen. “I never got a reply.” He then showed his phone to Jude. His final reply wasn’t there. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I assumed you weren’t coming so I went out.”
Jude opened his phone and showed Foster. “Ididreply.”
Foster leaned closer and scanned it. “It doesn’t say delivered at the bottom of your text. Maybe it never went through?”
Jude turned his phone and saw Foster was right. Maybe it hadn’t. But that didn’t resolve the question of where he’d been so Jude wasn’t yet in a forgiving mood.“Oryou deleted it to cover your ass.”
“Deleted it?” Foster asked. “To what end? I invited you here. Iwantedto see you tonight.”
They stared at one another, the security light outside the apartment door washing them with pale light.
“I’m glad you came,” Foster said, moving one step closer.
“Are you?” Jude asked, not convinced.
“I am,” Foster whispered.
“Where’d you go tonight?”
“Out,” Foster replied.
“Where?”
“You don’t want to know anything about me. We’re not friends,” Foster said.
Jude rolled his eyes. Fuck Foster for throwing his own words back at him. “Who was it?”
Foster frowned. “Who was who?”
“Your date. Someone local?”
A look of surprise hit Foster’s face seconds before a slow smile spread. “Are you jealous?”
“No,”Jude snapped.
Foster grabbed his hips, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You’re jealous.”
