Chapter Eleven
As much as Blake wished he could get his mind off Rusty, he couldn’t stop thinking back to when they’d first met, and how magical it’d all seemed.
The wedding, especially. Blake was right—they’d both thought it was nothing more than a gimmick for Valentine’s day. They’d gotten married by an Elvis impersonator. The whole thing had taken a handful of minutes, maybe.
He mostly remembered Rusty chasing him back to the hotel room, kissing him, touching him, showing him how much more fun he could have with his body when there was another person involved.
It was a good memory. One of Blake’s best.
He couldn’t hate Rusty, and he knew he hadn’t really meant what he’d said. It was just that between seeing him again and being back home, his nerves felt raw. It was easy to get on them. Everything was so much.
It wasn’t Rusty’s fault. He’d have to apologize. It was completely unfair to be bitter about being rejected, especially when he hadn’t been rejected because Rusty didn’t like him. There were bigger things to worry about.
Blake shut off the shower, opening the fogged-up door and stepping out into the cold bathroom.
To see Rusty standing right in front of him, holding a towel.
Blake yelped, snatching the towel from him and rushing to wrap it around his waist.
“What the hell?” he demanded, shocked by the whole situation. Right as he’d been about to forgive Rusty, too.
“I’ve seen you naked before,” Rusty said.
“Not recently,” Blake objected, his skin flushing all over. He’d always hated that he blushed so easily, and he hated it a whole lot more right now. “Don’t they teach you boundaries in Australia?”
Rusty shrugged. “You still look great naked,” he said. “I was coming in to apologize. Not just for what I said to mum this morning, but for… all of this. I don’t think I’ve apologized before now, so here goes.”
Blake watched him take a deep breath, already feeling his shock and anger subsiding.
“I’m sorry,” Rusty began. “For dragging you into this mess in the first place, for never getting in contact before now, for showing up out of the blue, for the way I’ve acted, for kissing you, and now for coming in here without knocking. I wasn’t thinking. I just… I don’t want us to end up like my mum and dad.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “How have your mom and dad ended up?”
Rusty sighed, brushing his hair away from his face. “They should have gotten a divorce a long time ago. They don’t get on. They got married young and they’re just sort’ve… stuck together. And I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me. I want us to walk away from this as friends. I like you.”
Blake took a deep breath, his anger completely evaporating at the look on Rusty’s face. This was sincere.
Rusty was often a lot more sincere than Blake gave him credit for. It was… disarming.
“I like you, too,” Blake admitted. “And I’m not… mad at you. Not really. I’m just under a lot of stress and looking for someone to yell at about it. And I shouldn’t take that out on you.”
“I’ve got a pretty broad back,” Rusty said. “I can handle it. If that’s what you need.”
Blake shook his head. “No. What I need is… I don’t know, exactly, but I know it’s not fighting with you. You’re my friend. You’re doing a lot for me and you really don’t have to. I should be grateful.”
“This is the bare minimum I owe you,” Rusty said. “I still reckon you should take the money. Set yourself up. Maybe live the dream.”
Blake shook his head again, more firmly this time. “No. I didn’t marry you for that. And I know I didn’t know I was really marrying you, but that’s… not the point. I don’t want anything from you, except your friendship.”
Rusty’s face broke into a broad grin. “Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with that,” he said.
Blake breathed a sigh of relief, tucking his towel more firmly around his waist so he could let go of it to fix his hair.
He knew better than to think Rusty would leave unless asked, but he didn’t mind the company.
Besides, it’d really sell that they were genuinely married to his mom. Which was all he’d really wanted from this.
“We probably should’ve clued in when they started getting us to sign stuff,” Rusty said.
Blake snorted. “Did you read it? Because I kind of took it as clicking ‘I agree’ on the TOS of literally any website.”
“I didn’t read it,” Rusty said. “But you’re not meant to sign stuff without reading it, are you?”
Blake shrugged. “We do it all the time. It’s human. There’s no point in beating up our younger selves. We were having fun, and as far as consequences for fun go, I think we’re getting off light.”
Rusty chuckled at that. “You got so mad when I called you Mr. Brightside, and yet here you are, looking on the bright side.”
“You were comparing me to a song that’d been played to death on the radio and the TV and everywhere else.”
“I do a great acoustic version of that one, y’know.”
“I’m sure you do,” Blake said. Rusty was good at what he did.
“I was never comparing you to the song,” Rusty said. “I like that you’re not miserable all the time. Even when you are miserable. You don’t let it weigh you down. I wish I was more like you.”
“Yeah, well…” Blake shrugged. “I wish I had your stunning good looks.”
Rusty raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t think you have, I’m taking you to an optometrist.”
Blake laughed at that, the last of the fog of irritability he’d woken up in this morning lifting.
Rusty had a way of doing that. Soothing him, making him laugh. It was a rare talent.
“I’m serious, but I’m gonna let you finish up by yourself,” Rusty said, surprising Blake again by heading for the door. “Nice arse, by the way.”
Blake rolled his eyes as Rusty left the bathroom, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It was hard to resist a compliment, even if the guy handing them out was driving him nuts right now.
He’d called Blake cute to his mom on the phone, too. It was nice to hear nice things about himself.
Walking away from this as friends was the best possible outcome. Blake didn’t want to lose Rusty entirely, even if he never actually saw him again.