Fifteen
Noah
On Monday, Jamie’s mother called me for an interview, and I started work on Wednesday. By Friday, I’ve got the catalog system down. It was pretty easy to pick up.
They’re getting ready to finish summer activities, and I’ve been tasked with helping the youth director as well as at the desk, and although the hours are limited for now, I really don’t care. A job is a job, and this is a job at the library—I’m surrounded by books.
A win is a win.
What’s not great is that Jamie hasn’t talked to me since he ran out of the shower. It’s been nearly five days, and I’m just itching to get out of here and see him. I made up my mind this morning, when Jamie left the kitchen as I entered, that I’m going to talk to him after work. I’m going to be home the next two days, and I can’t take this silence anymore.
I need to apologize.
During the week, I gave him space. In the shower, I’d thought we were playing around, but I pushed his boundaries and that was terrible. I feel like shit. More than anything, I want to know what’s going on with him. Why was he wearing that shirt in the shower? What are those marks on his body? Why did he look not just heartbroken but ashamed?
I’ve given him space but I don’t want to keep feeling like he’s walking on eggshells around me. It’s in my nature to push, but there are boundaries, and it takes me longer than most to figure them out.
Fuck, I really did it this time.
“Excuse me.” Looking up from my book, I see blue eyes smiling back at me. Fantastic . This man’s been in every day since I started, checking out DVDs.
Alright, I need to get my head together.
“Can I help you?”
Elbows on the counter, he leans forward, hitting me with a white smile. “Could you help me find a horror book?”
“What kind of horror?”
“What do you recommend?”
Leaning in, his eyes light up but I’m not in the mood. I have the feeling DVDs aren’t the only reason he’s been in constantly. “Well...”
“Ben.”
“Well, Ben...” Pure interest brightens his blue eyes. Flirting and teasing are my specialty, but I’m cautious. “Personally, I don’t read horror.”
“What do you like to read?” Looking at the little name tag on my baby-blue sweater, he smiles. “Noah.” He rolls my name over his tongue and something flutters in my belly. “Cute name.”
“Thanks.” My face heats as I try to focus on the catalog and not on the handsome man clearly giving it his best. Trying to think of things Mark likes to read, I come up blank. Horror just isn’t for me, and since Mark’s still mad at me I don’t feel like phoning a friend. “I like romance books.”
“What are you reading right now?” Leaning over, he peeks at my book. A little pushy, but maybe I’m just on edge with everything that’s happened lately. This guy’s trying to be nice and I just don’t have the spoons for it.
“I uh—” Ben bites his bottom lip, and his eyes go to it. “It’s a hockey romance between two teammates.”
“Can I see?”
Whatever. What’s the harm? I hand him my book, with the ripped model dressed in nothing but a helmet and hockey sticks, and Ben’s grin grows. “Looks hot.”
“It is.”
“They have these here?”
“It’s my copy.” It’s the last one in a series I absolutely love. Living with my dad I couldn’t have physical copies of these books. I kept them in my e-reader. When I got this job I decided to treat myself and buy all five books to keep on my shelf. I wish there were spicier books here, though.
Maybe I’ll have to recommend some.
“That’s a shame. This looks good.” Well, I’m not lending my book out. That’s a strict rule. No one borrows my books, not even Mark.
Especially Mark.
That monster dog-ears pages.
“I can help you find something else?”
“Why don’t you make me a personal list of recommendations.”
While I could totally do that, I know this man’s not here to read gay romances. “How about I help you find a horror book.”
While flirting is nice, I’m not in the mood today.
Not for the first time, my mind drifts to Jamie’s stomach. I’m more bothered about how upset he seemed, that shame on his face. Over what? Scars?
Whatever happened to him had to have been painful, and I want to know what caused it. Was it his birth mother? Or something else?
“I’d like something with a mystery.”
Blinking back to reality, I smile at the man looking up titles on the computer.
“Here are some authors that may interest you. The fiction books are to the left, alphabetically.” Smiling at him, I slide the paper over, and without moving his eyes from mine, he grabs it.
“Thank you.” Ben takes the pen lying on the counter, rips off a piece of the paper that has nothing written on it, and writes something down. “And here, in case you’d like to discuss books over dinner.”
Um . . .
He slides over his number and I smile uncomfortably. Ben’s nice. Maybe a little basic looking, with blond hair and blue eyes. Handsome, but in a cliché way. Normally, I would eat this up.
“Maybe next time.” I wink, but even that feels hollow.
Ben smiles wider. “Have a good night, Noah.”
Ben’s eyes drift over me one more time, making me feel squirmy in my own skin. “Night.” Finally he turns to the stacks, letting me take my first real breath of air.
“Noah.” I jump and turn. Isa stands behind me. She giggles. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt whatever that was.”
“I was helping him find a book.”
“Helping him find something,” she mutters, and I playfully push her away from the desk. Nudging me with her hip, she laughs. Okay, I’m happy to have this job. I truly love the people who work here, they’re all so welcoming, and Isa is a dream.
There are four clerks at the desk, along with Isa, the children’s librarian. There’s Marcus, the adult-program director, Lianna, a retired teacher who is Lia’s secretary, and Lia, their director—and mother to one of the most frustrating men I’ve met.
Being new, I’m stuck with mainly second shifts, but I don’t mind. At night, a student and I work at the desk, and it’s so quiet that I’m allowed to read as long as things are done. It’s a dream job.
Isa is a tall Pakistani woman with sparkling chestnut eyes. They’re striking, and filled with so much warmth, and her pink hair is usually piled on top of her head with a clip. She’s just finished college, getting a degree in children’s education, and watching her with the kids during her programs is awe-inspiring. She’s fun and creative, so it’s no surprise her classes are full each and every time. “I just have a question. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Nothing to interrupt.”
“Seemed like it.”
“Not interested.”
Putting her hands up, she laughs. “Fine. I’ll play matchmaker another day.”
“Looking forward to it. Do you need any help with a class?” As well as learning how to use the computer, I also help with her programs because it’s so slow at night. She’s always coming up with elaborate crafts for the kids to do.
“I got markers for my teen program. They just came in today and they aren’t the right ones. Sometimes the descriptions in the catalog aren’t the best. I meant to grab edible ones for baking but these are body-ink markers.”
“You don’t want to do a body artwork shop?” I laugh.
“If I send some of these kids home with tattoos, their parents will fucking kill me.” She hands them to me and I look at them. “Do you want to give them to Jamie? Lia said her son might want them. We got a credit for them and reordered the right ones. We can’t really use them here, unfortunately. A body ink program would be so awesome, though!”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll give them to him.” I take the markers and she goes to leave, then turns.
“He’s cute.”
“Huh?”
“That guy who was flirting with you.” She winks, turning to walk up to the teen section. Shaking my head, I look down at the markers, an idea forming. I look at the clock—I still have two hours left. Then I have a plan.
One I hope will get a certain someone to speak to me again.
It’s nearly nine thirty when I walk in the door.
It had been impossible to focus on my book the rest of the night, and I was practically bouncing on my toes waiting for my ride share to pick me up.
I change into a pair of sweats that says slippery when wet on the butt, and throw on a white crop top I got at a party I’d been to. It had been at a queer bar, where one drink led to another and I’d joined a lesbian couple celebrating their upcoming nuptials.
Damn, that was a good time, and they even gave me a souvenir.
I knock on Jamie’s door but there’s no answer.
The light’s on in the kitchen, but Jamie isn’t in there either. The curtain to the sliding door’s open, and I can see a silhouette sitting on one of the chairs. Stepping out onto the porch, I find Jamie sitting with a bowl in his hand and leaning back with his head against the railing. “Oh.” Looking around for somewhere to put it, he shakes his head.
“It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry,” he says
“Why are you apologizing?”
Jamie snorts, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Habit, I guess.”
Frowning, I rub my arms. It’s a little cold tonight and Jamie’s nose is red. “When you’re done, I want to talk to you.”
Jamie’s chest rises with the breath he takes. He nods, takes another drag, then places it on the picnic table. Standing, he walks around me to go into the house.
“Give me ten.”
I can hear the shower running as I sit at the kitchen table, making myself an iced coffee and reading some of my book now that my thoughts have calmed slightly. Hearing Jamie’s door click, I wait fifteen minutes before going to find him.
Patience is not my strong suit.
“Jamie?” Listening, I don’t hear anything. “Can we talk please?”
“Yeah.” Opening the door, Jamie’s brow arches as he takes me in. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“What?” Looking down, I inspect my outfit, then turn to look over my shoulder at my ass in the slippery sweats. “What’s wrong with these?” Jamie eyes my shirt flatly before meeting my eyes. “Oh, you mean the shirt?”
Jamie eyes it again, almost smiling before shaking his head. Eat your girl out or I will, it reads in bright pink bubble font. “What? Lesbians know how to party.”
“I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you’ve never eaten a girl out a day in your life.”
I raise my hand a little. “Guilty as charged. But irony is comedy.”
Rolling his eyes, he goes back to his sketchbook, one knee propped against the desk, pen cap in his mouth now. “What do you want?”
I take a couple of steps inside, and Jamie’s pencil pauses above the paper. “What are you drawing?”
Turning the book over so I can’t see, Jamie looks up. “I’m not in the mood right now.” His eyes lift to mine, breaking a little piece of my heart. They’re still red, either from what he smoked or not sleeping. Maybe both. It’s something I’ve noticed this week. Jamie doesn’t sleep much. More often than not I can hear him out in the hall at all hours.
It’s taken every ounce of strength in me to give him space.
Even now, he still looks tired. Wearing a navy blue sweater that’s a little big, Jamie rolls up the sleeve of his forearm, displaying that beautiful snake tattoo. “I got something today. I wanted to show you.”
“Can it wait?” My heart squeezes at the dark bruising under his eyes. What Jamie needs is sleep. An idea springs to my mind.
“Can we just talk about—”
“Not right now.”
“Listen to me.” Pinching my lips shut, I don’t give in, and Jamie’s jaw ticks as he puts his sketchbook down, swiveling in his chair to face me. “You’ve been avoiding me. I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I want to know why you’re still not talking to me.”
“Noah, just—”
“No, I won’t be sorry about checking on you. You don’t look good.” What am I saying? My mind’s a mess. “I’m sorry about what I did. It’s just, your stomach—”
“Stop it.” The shower, the way I touched them... Something happened, and I want to know what.
“If it’s scars, why would you think I’d care?”
Jamie stands abruptly. “I don’t give a fuck how you feel.”
Stepping closer, I’m not about to let this man try and intimidate me. “That’s a lie. You and I both know it. I hate that you feel like you should be embarrassed. I don’t care that you—”
“Not everything is about you. This has nothing to do with you!”
“Yes it does, or you wouldn’t be ignoring me.”
“Maybe I just don’t like you.” Swallowing hard, I feel real tears prick my eyes. Jamie sees it too, and he wavers, showing his comment for the lie that it was. It seems he uses being nasty as a defense. Well, I’m not going to be bullied into turning away.
“Then why did you come into the shower with a shirt and boxers on if you don’t care?” He clenches his jaw so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack. “I’ve already seen your dick! It’s not exactly like we were going for modesty.”
Check. Mate.
Ignoring the ice wall building between us, I set my hockey book down on his nightstand and hand over the markers. Jamie glares before his gaze flicks to them. “What’s this?”
“A peace offering, but I can see you need space. I just want to tell you I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries earlier this week. I thought we were playing around and I’m sorry. I just want you to know that you should never feel embarrassed. Whether or not you care how I feel about it, just know there’s nothing wrong with you or your stupid gorgeous body. I’ll leave you be, okay? Goodnight!”
Jamie catches my wrist as I go to leave, and I turn around to face him as his face softens and his jaw unclenches. “I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. I haven’t been sleeping but that’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for ignoring you, that was—” Jamie’s eyes close and he scrubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed. But if I made you uncomfortable earlier this week I didn’t mean to. I thought we were playing around.”
Jamie runs his tongue along his cheek. “I have to get used to this. I’m sorry. Hunter, he pretty much—”
“Let you have your way?”
Jamie’s lip twitches. “Yeah, you could say that.” A genuine smile spreads on his lips. It’s small but it’s there. A tiny victory. “It’s your home also. Just please, if I need space, give me space.”
“I’ll respect that.” Jamie cocks a brow. “I’ll try my best.” I salute him and Jamie laughs. “Scouts honor.”
“What are these?” He gestures to the markers in my hand.
“I don’t want to bother you. I’m just glad we’re okay. We are okay, right?”
“We’re okay, Noah.” Jamie’s large hand squeezes my shoulder before sliding down to squeeze my bicep gently. The warm touch makes my skin heat. “I want to see it. I do.”
“I can show you in the morning. It’s late. You should probably sleep.”
“No.” He closes his eyes, and I watch him in real time gather some patience, or courage. “I can’t sleep and I’m in a lot of pain. That’s why I was outside smoking. It’s fine. I want to see.”
“Your back? Hunter said you have some health things—”
“Yes. My back.”
Jamie’s eyes plead with me not to pry further. “We got these in at the library. They needed special markers, and they accidentally got these. Your mom thought you’d like them.”
Inspecting them, he shakes his head. “And what exactly am I going to do with these?
“Well...” Taking off my shirt, I watch as Jamie’s eyes go to my chest, but when I grab at my sweats, his hand closes around mine.
“Leave them on?” I nod but Jamie doesn’t meet my eyes.
Fine. I concede. “I thought you could draw on me.”
“Why?”
“You’re a great artist, and it’s fun.”
Jamie’s dark eyes scan over my chest. “Okay.” He frowns as he looks at the package, his tongue touching the side of his mouth while he reads. “This will be on you for a few days. It says five washes, but usually markers like these don’t last that long. It’s a good brand, though, so maybe.”
“Oh, look at my little art nerd.” Glancing at his bed, I know it’s the only logical and comfortable place to do this. “What do you want to draw on?” Looking over my body, he’s in full professional mode, thinking it over. “My ass cheeks would make the perfect drawing surface, I promise you.”
“No.”
“But—” Jamie deadpans a look at me. “Stupid boundaries! How do you want me, then?”
“Ah, well,” His eyes scan the length of my body. “Your stomach is fine. I don’t want to do your arms in case you want to hide it at work.”
That’s a good point.
Jamie makes room next to him for me to sit down.
“Come on. Come lay down.”
Check one for me!