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They watched and waited. They searched for the right moment. And when they spotted a break in the line of defense that they could slip through, all one could pray for was some flicker of light, some flicker of hope, to pull them back through to the other side. Luckily for them, there was strength in numbers.
This weekend, Priest was Julien’s line of defense and Robbie was his light and hope, and it had never been more apparent that the connection they had forged was one they’d all been searching for, and one they desperately needed.
Chapter Seventeen
CONFESSION
You never get anywhere standing still.
But then, you don’t get much further on the 405 either.
“IS HE OKAY?” Robbie said, as he and Priest stood by baggage claim around thirty minutes later.
Like him, Priest wasn’t paying any attention to the bags that were rotating on the black conveyor belt. Instead, they were focused on Julien, who was standing over by one of the exits, staring out at the buses, cars, and taxis driving by.
Julien hadn’t said a word since they’d arrived, and the smile from earlier on the plane had vanished the moment they’d set foot in the L.A. terminal, making Robbie start to worry.
“No,” Priest said, his mouth set in a grim line, his focus locked on his husband. “He’s not.”
Shit, Robbie thought, but knew there was little to nothing he could do. There was no quick fix to all of this. No fix at all…really.
When Robbie sighed, Priest turned to him. “Are you sure you want to be here for this? It’s not too late for us to book you a return—”
“No,” Robbie said, and shook his head. There were many things he wanted to do right then, from comforting Julien to being there if Priest needed him. But leaving? That wasn’t one of them. “I’m not going anywhere but with the both of you. So if you’re trying to get rid of me, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
Priest ran his fingers over the frown on Robbie’s brow, and as he looked into those grey eyes, Robbie wished he could read Priest’s mind.
“That’s the last thing I’m trying to do,” Priest said. “I just want to be aware of how you’re coping with all of this. How you’re feeling is just as important here.”
Robbie looked over at Julien and knew only one thing. He wanted to be there if, and when, Julien needed him. He wanted to be available to listen when Julien was ready to share. And that couldn’t happen if he was back in Chicago.
“Robert?” Priest said, and took Robbie’s chin in hand. “You can leave. We won’t think any less—”
Robbie reached for Priest’s wrist and drew it away. “I’m not leaving. Not him. Not you. He asked me to be here and you didn’t nix the idea, so let me be here. Let me help you take care of him this weekend.”
Priest ran the pad of his thumb over Robbie’s lips, then he leaned in and kissed him softly, making Robbie giggle when Priest’s short scruff tickled him.
Priest raised his head, his eyes serious as he slicked his tongue over his lower lip and said, “What’s today’s flavor?”
Robbie’s mouth curved into a wide smile. Ever since he’d moved in, he’d delighted in introducing Julien and Priest to his wide array of flavored lip glosses, his favorite addiction.
“Sugar Plum. But I like to call it Sugar Plum Fairy.” Robbie added an impish wink that drew out that elusive grin of Priest’s. “You like?”
“Very much,” Priest said. “You and your sweet lips.”
“Are you trying to take my mind off things by appealing to my vanity?”
“I am.”
“Well…it’s working,” Robbie said, and held up his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart. “A teensy bit.”
“Good. Then let’s grab our bags and get over to Julien and see if we can distract him.”
Robbie nodded and turned back to the suitcases circling them on the belt, but couldn’t stop himself from taking one more look at Julien, who remained staring out the window like a caged animal. One who desperately wanted to be anywhere but where he was.
BY THE TIME they collected their bags and came to a standstill behind Julien, his hands were jammed into his pockets and his shoulders were rigid.
Priest glanced at Robbie and held a finger up, as he stepped around his suitcase and walked over to stop beside his husband. Julien didn’t turn to look, but when Priest touched his fingers to his arm, Julien automatically brought a hand out from his pocket to cover the one now resting on his loose, cream-colored cardigan.
“I’m all right, mon amour,” Julien said in a quiet voice, and it didn’t surprise Priest that Julien knew what he was thinking without him having to speak. That was always the way with them.
