Page 39 of And the Best Man Ran Away With the Groom

GLOSSARY

Root - Fuck

19

Trent

Ispend a long moment just staring after Xavier’s scampering form, completely baffled by his behaviour. I mean, I guess it’spossiblehe really does need to call his mum—I get the impression she’s the kind to fret if she doesn’t hear from him for a while—but I can’t shake the feeling that he was just bullshitting so he’d have an excuse to leave. And if he was telling the truth? Well, that’s a bit of a bruise to the old ego, I’ve got to admit. No one wants the person they’re grinding up against to be thinking about theirmother.

Realising there’s no point dwelling on it—if Xav needs space, he needs space…there’s not much I can do about it now—I decide to leave the bungalow and head over to the bar. I quickly toss on a singlet and go hunting around for a hair-tie since I’m pretty sure the one I was using earlier is now secured around Xavier’s wrist, and there’s no way I’m leaving my hair out with how muggy it is outside now the rain’s stopped. I’d probably end up resembling Monica fromFriendsthat time they went to Barbados.

I manage to locate one on the bedside table and use it to pull my hair back in a haphazard bun before slipping on my thongs and grabbing my wallet.

“Where’s your other half?” Rupert asks by way of greeting when I get to the bar. “Not used to seeing one of you without the other anymore.”

I feel a blush creep over my cheeks at his obvious insinuation. “Ah, he had to call his mum,” I say, reaching for the excuse Xavier gave me earlier. Rupert doesn’t need to know how much I doubt that was the actual reason for Xav’s flight from my bungalow.

The older man just nods and gestures at the bar. “Shake? Cocktail? Beer? Tea?”

“Yeah, one of those citrus iced tea things sounds good,” I say, taking up a seat at the bar. “Thanks.”

Rupert starts making my drink and I draw in a breath, preparing to broach the topic I came here to discuss. “Do you mind if I ask…what are you on the—uh—Kin…seyscale?” I ask, struggling to remember the name of the thing Xavier was talking about earlier.

A wry grin spreads over Rupert’s face and he lets out a loud chuckle. “Ahh, the Kinsey scale. Let me guess, Xavier told you about that one?”

“Yeah…”

He shrugs. “Well, I don’t use that to measure my queerness.”

“Huh. Do you mind if I ask how you identify? I remember you saying Olivier’s your first—”

“I don’t identify,” he says simply, sliding my iced tea across the bar. “I’m just a man who happens to be in love with another man. And I don’t love him because of his gender. I love him because he’s Oliver and there’s no one in the world like him,” he explains passionately. “So, I don’t know. Maybe I am bi, or pan, or some other letter of the queer alphabet…who knows? Frankly, I don’t give a toss about any of it. All that matters to me is Olly.”

“Wow.” I take a sip of my tea, still a little awestruck at the undeniable passion evident not just in Rupert’s voice but in his whole body, with the way his face lights up and his hands wave around as he articulates his love for Oliver. “That’s really sweet,” I finally manage to say. “I feel even more embarrassed now.”

“Why should you be embarrassed?” he asks, silver brows drawn together.

“Oh, it’s um…” My face flames even brighter than it did earlier as I realise I have no choice but to confess my assumptions from our first day here. “I was pretty surprised when I realised you guys were a couple,” I admit, cringing through the words. “I actually, um, kind of thought you were Oliver’s dad at first.”

Rupert tosses his head back, releasing a gale of wild laughter.

“It’s notthatfunny,” I say with an eye roll, taking another sip of my drink.

He gets himself under control and offers me a bright smile. “Sorry. I’m just imagining how freaked out you must have been whenever you saw us snogging.”

“I’d worked it out by then, obviously,” I say with an eye roll. “It really just crossed my mind for a second when I was trying to puzzle out your relationship, that’s all.”

Rupert lets out a little breath of laughter and shakes his head wryly. “You know, the ironic thing is that when we’re aloneOlly’s the one who likes being called daddy.”

My jaw practically hits the bar in response to that. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say now.

“Jesus, Rupes—what the hell did you do to him? He’s got that deer-in-headlights look you used to get back when—”

“Yep, okay, enough said,” Rupert grunts, slapping a hand over Oliver’s mouth as he joins us at the bar. “Let’s not traumatise the kid.”

Kid?I’m a good ten years older than his boyfriend.

Thankfully I’m saved from having to contribute anything else to this conversation by Xavier’s arrival at my side. As soon as I see him and the way he’s smiling at me, my concern from earlier completely evaporates and I can’t help reaching for him to pull him close for a kiss.

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