“Wait!”
Instead of waiting, Justin walked faster. Was he embarrassed? He looked it. He had his head down. If Thom had to place a bet, he would have put all his money on the probability that Justin’s cheeks were aflame with colour. The same colour they’d been when he’d been laughing in the sun while watching Thom drag himself off the ground with a sputtering water hose, that same pretty pink they’d been when he’d looked up at Thom, flushed from passion instead of shame.
Dog reacted immediately, following along as if Justin was holding the leash and not Thom. He didn’t walk those few steps, either. He bounced. As if the hiding game had been great fun, but not nearly as much fun as being reunited. Then the leash snapped tight. Dog tugged forward, then again, and Thom had to plant both feet to keep him in place.
“Fuck,” Thom hissed. He looked after Justin, then at Dog. “We can’t. I’m sorry.”
Dog huffed, and Thom was pretty sure he wasn’t just imagining the surprised disdain.