Eleven
Jamie
On Monday night, Noah tells me his favorite color is red, and follows it with a picture of himself in a cropped red shirt and lacy thong, standing in front of a floor-length mirror, looking behind his shoulder, showing off his ass.
Red may also be my new favorite color.
On Wednesday, I tell him I’d like a cat more than anything, but sometimes my depression gets so bad that I forget to eat and sleep, and in the past I’ve even peed the bed because I couldn’t get up. That was during the first year after the accident, and it’s been years since, but I don’t tell him about that part.
On Thursday, he tells me his favorite position is cowgirl and that he’s a natural rider, and damn, the mental image that conjures should be illegal.
On Friday, I tell him about the time Hunter and I thought we saw a UFO and told my brother about it. For weeks, he was terrified they’d come back and take us to their planet because Hunter and I “knew too much.”
Clearly, our conversation topics are vastly different.
That’s why, on Sunday, when Noah texts me, saying—
Noah: I can’t believe he hasn’t tried to find me
I don’t know why I’m surprised or even upset
I’m being dumb
—I grab my phone, curious about his sudden seriousness. It’s not that I don’t mind the playful texts, but I have a feeling Noah uses jokes and sarcasm to mask and hide everything he doesn’t want to think about.
I do the same thing, just with anger and seclusion. Not knowing what to say, I tell him his dad’s a fucking idiot. His father doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him.
For two weeks, we text back and forth, but neither of us call. I don’t know why. I know Hunter found out he called me that first night, but I’m tired of the lectures. This isn’t Hunter’s or Mark’s business.
Whatever this non-thing is between us.
All I know is that I’m looking forward to something for the first time in so long. My phone buzzes, and I snatch it embarrassingly fast.
Noah: I got books today!!!
Smiling down at the text, I reply, practically seeing the grin on Noah’s pretty face.
Jamie: Anything spicy?
Noah: All the spice!!!!! You know me
I’m starting to. We’ve been talking every day, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything. From why the sky is blue to Noah’s dirty thoughts, to the books he reads and the shows he watches. Noah’s into BLs—Boys Love dramas, he explained—which doesn’t surprise me. Noah seems to love romance in all forms. I haven’t told him, but I watched one he said was his favorite, and it was actually pretty good.
Noah: I hope they leave me alone tonight. I just want to read in peace
Noah: I need to get my own place
He could live here. My fingers twitch with the response, but I’ve told him multiple times that the room is still open. I’m trying. I am. But everybody I’ve interviewed just hasn’t been the right fit.
Hunter says I’m picky, but I have to live with them.
Jamie: Do you still want to talk tonight?
Jamie: You can read if you get time instead
Every night around eleven, Noah texts me, when Hunter and Mark are asleep and we won’t be caught. It’s ridiculous, but Noah’s best friend is ridiculous.
Noah: I want to talk to you tonight. Can I call you this time?
Heat blooms in my chest.
Jamie: Yes
Noah: What are you doing now?
Jamie: Just finished interviews
Noah: How did it go?
Jamie: Not good. No one yet. Hunter is annoyed
Noah: Why is Puck Daddy upset?
I laugh, looking up at the Puck Daddy in question watching a hockey game. Hunter came over early this morning and I know the man on the other end of this conversation is why. Hunter’s made it clear he likes Noah, he just doesn’t like how much of Mark’s attention he takes up.
Jamie: He said I’m being too picky
Noah: They just don’t know your interview style, that’s all. It’s a mastered craft
Jamie: You already passed the first round. Why don’t you move in?
My face heats. It’s a little embarrassing to keep asking him. While I don’t really know Noah, I want to. At least I know that Noah’s in our friend circle. He’s friend adjacent. Or maybe he is a friend. I don’t know, but he isn’t a stranger.
Noah: Do you think that’s a good idea?
No. Probably not.
Jamie: The room’s here if you want it
I don’t know what to say. Noah doesn’t want to. I need to stop asking.
Noah: I need a job first. I don’t have much money
Jamie: Hunter paid two months ahead to help me out. You wouldn’t have to start until October
A lie.
It was tiny, but I don’t want Noah to worry. I’ll be fine until it starts getting cold. That’s when the heat bills will kick in, and that’s the bulk of the help I need. I have money—not much, but some—and could probably scrape by. I could also ask Mom for help, but she’s done enough, and I don’t want to bother her.
Noah: Really?
Jamie: Yes
No
Noah: I’ll think about it
Jamie: Okay ( :
Fucking smiley face! Who does that?
Noah: Blue or pink?
Jamie: Um, why?
Noah: Never heard of that color before
Jamie: Blue
Noah: ;)
Noah doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and a throat clears. Oh yeah, company. An Otters hockey game is playing on TV. Hunter came over earlier needing peace, and instead, I got to watch his eyes roll consistently while I interviewed two potential renters. Neither of whom passed.
“I hate you both. Pass that along to Noah.”
“You don’t know who I’m talking to.”
“By the smile on your stupid fucking face, it’s definitely Noah.”
My phone vibrates in my hand as if confirming Hunter’s statement, and when I unlock the phone it nearly slips from my hand.
Noah’s standing in front of a floor-length mirror in a baby-blue jock, his ass facing the mirror. Fuck, I want to dive right in. “Holy fuck.” Cheeks burning, I swallow, saving the picture to the folder I’d made for him. My phone buzzes again.
Noah: Good choice. I love blue
Well, fuck if I don’t love blue too.
Jamie: Blue is the best
“Pathetic.” Hunter shakes his head, his eyes not leaving the game.
“Says the man who ‘moved out,’ yet has been here every day instead of home with the boyfriend he just moved in with.” Sadness hits his face, making me feel like shit. I’m not sure what’s happening, but I feel terrible for him. I don’t like Mark, but Hunter loves him more than anything. Hunter deserves happiness, and for some reason, that skinny prick makes him happy.
“Shut up.”
“Why are you here more than you are home?”
“Because of the guy you’re pretending not to text.” Hunter’s tired eyes meet mine.
“Not sleeping?”
“Should ask you the same.”
No, I’m not, but I’m used to that. “I’m fine.”
Hunter snorts, shaking his head and straightening in his seat. “Adulting is bullshit. I have to get up super early for my job, and with Noah there, Mark and I don’t get to spend much time alone. The only time we do get alone is when it’s time for bed and we—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Are you the only one allowed to have some fun?” Heat creeps up my neck. “Mark is mad. I don’t get this protective thing he’s got for Noah. It’s not like you’re the worst person he could be with.”
“Aw. Thank you.”
“You wouldn’t use him. You’re not a dick.”
“I am a dick.”
“Pretend to be an asshole to everyone else, fine, but stop that shit with me. We both know how fucking gooey you are.”
“Fuck you, I’m not gooey.”
Rolling his eyes, he ignores me. “It’s not like you two have even hooked up again since. You just talk. Or pretend not to.”
“It’s none of Mark’s business what I do.”
“With his best friend.”
“Seems like it’s Noah’s business, not his.”
Hunter sits up with a huff. “I think he feels responsible for him sometimes. Noah’s been through some shit with guys, and I know Mark means well, but—” Hunter spaces out, laying back on the couch with his hands across his chest.
“This isn’t a therapy session.”
Hunter ignores me. “I feel like I come second. I’ve always felt like that, and what happened to Noah... It’s not fair, I know that, but—”
“Not fair to you either?”
“I sound like a dick.”
Thinking a moment, I set my pencils down. “I offered him the room.”
That makes him sit up. “What?”
“When you left us to talk at the party, I offered him the room.”
“What did he say?”
“We uh... didn’t have time to finish talking about it.”
Hunter scratches his beard, shaking his head. “Because he sucked your dick.”
“Shut up.” I can’t stop thinking about those soft fucking lips. Those bright green eyes. The entire night plays on a loop inside my mind.
“Was it good? I want to know it was worth the fight Mark and I got into.”
“I’m not telling you—hey!” Hunter goes to snatch the strawberry plushie I’m holding in my lap. “Don’t fuck with this.” I’d brought it out when I interviewed people earlier.
“It’s a stuffed animal.”
“It’s a fruit.”
“You’re a fruit.”
“Real mature.”
“You’re mature.” Hunter sticks out his tongue. “Come on, give me something. The least you can do is tell me about it.”
Whatever. I really don’t have anyone else to talk about it with. “It’s never been that good before. It was... unreal.” Noah just consumed me. The devilish looks. The mischief in those stunning eyes. The quirk of his lips. The wet heat and suction of his mouth. “He moaned while he did it.” Holy shit, I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Mortified, I chance a look at Hunter. “Sorry.”
Instead, Hunter smiles, lolling his head at me. “He enjoyed himself, then?”
“I’ve never had someone moan like that. Like... like it was giving him pleasure. Like he was enjoying it just as much.” I squeeze my thighs together.
“You want to see him again?”
“I just offered him the room if he wanted it. I’m not looking to date anyone. You know that.”
“What has he said about moving?” Something like hope flickers in Hunter’s dark eyes. Too bad I’ll have to squash that.
“I’ve brought it up a few times, but he’s been deflecting.” Noah’s just as miserable at their house as Hunter is, but he never gives me a straight answer when I bring it up.
Which brings me to my less favorable conclusion.
Noah doesn’t want to.
It was a fun night, and that was it. That was all. There’s nothing more or less to it. “Mark would have a fucking fit.”
I understand Mark doesn’t like me but isn’t this a bit much? “He acts like I’m Satan.”
“Dunno why. You’re always so pleasant and fun to be around.”
Blinking at him flatly, I sigh. “Fair.”
“Mark will get over it.” Hunter sighs. “Or he won’t, and Noah will just live with us for all eternity. Maybe Mark will be into a third.” My scowl deepens. “Oh, hello, jealous. Not my type, but he is cute.”
Cute? No, beautiful. His eyes sometimes visit me when I’m lucky enough to have dreams instead of nightmares. “The offer stands. I don’t know if he’ll accept it, though.” Hunter nods and then shifts his attention to the coffee table, his brow furrowing. Fuck I should have put my shit away!
“Holy shit, are you drawing again?” Leaning over the table, he snatches it before I can. Fucking athlete reflexes! Pleased with himself, Hunter opens it, his eyes widening. Bri bought me a new sketchbook last year, but it remained untouched until Noah’s green eyes wouldn’t leave my mind.
“Give it back!”
“No.” Hunter moves away from me, and if I weren’t in as much pain as I am, maybe I’d have more energy to snatch it back. “Holy shit.”
“Shut up.” Turning the page, he shows it to me as if I don’t know what’s on there.
“You like him. Holy shit.”
“I don’t! He’s good at sucking dick.”
“Oh, I can see that.” Letting the book fall open in his grip, he laughs, showing me the drawing of Noah on his knees, that cute little thong peeking out of his jeans. I yank the book back, glancing quickly at the picture I drew of Noah on his knees, my cock next to those luscious lips.
That was the first one I drew, but now there are a handful. I couldn’t stop. Suddenly, Noah has become my muse. Sometimes he sends me selfies and I like to draw them. In one photo I’ve done, I gave Noah little fox ears.
Mischievous little fox.
“If this weren’t Mark’s best friend, I would support it one hundred percent.”
“And you don’t because he is?” Not that there is anything.
“I’ll support you no matter what. You know that. This is just a tricky situation.” It’s quiet for a moment, but the air is edged with something, and I wait for Hunter to say whatever it is that’s on his mind. “Stop looking for roommates.”
“What?”
“Don’t interview anyone else.”
“I need someone here for winter.”
Hunter shakes his head. “If Noah doesn’t move out within the month...” Hunter leans forward, putting his head in his hands before scrubbing his face. “If Noah doesn’t move out within the month, I’ll move back.” Hope fills my chest, but it’s replaced by something that feels a little like disappointment—for Hunter and myself.
I didn’t realize how badly I wanted Noah here. “Really?”
Sinking back into the chair, Hunter looks ready to cry, but I don’t comment. I just reassure him. “You know I have your back, no matter what.”
“I know. I hate this. I can’t keep living like this. If Mark wants Noah around, that’s okay, but I can’t stay there too. I feel like a third wheel in my own home.”
“Are you . . . breaking up with—”
“No. It’s not a relationship ultimatum, but I can’t keep feeling like a guest in my own home. I sound like a child.”
Through all our fighting, I’ve never once wished they’d break up. Mark makes him happy. “I’m sorry.”
Letting out a loud, shaky breath, he stands. “I’m going to head home. Want me to talk to Noah?”
“No. I will, later—” His brows rise. “Ah, I mean—”
Hunter chuckles, coming over to me and ruffling my hair. “It’s okay to be happy, you grouchy ass.”
I smack his hand away with a scowl. “Talk to you later.”
Hunter leaves me to sit with my thoughts. My phone vibrates again, and grabbing it pathetically fast, I open it straight away. I’m not sure where he is, but Noah’s selfie with a cherry-blossom painting in the background makes me smile, the text making it widen more.
Noah: Yours are prettier
Fuck.
He does make me happy.