Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
AFTER
Ezra Tate was moving into my apartment today.
Sure, it wasn’t permanent—just one of the spare bedrooms while he figured out his next move.
But still.
Ezra Tate was moving into my apartment today.
I had no idea how the hell this was going to work out, but I sucked it up and walked to the elevator, ready to greet my new roomie.
The bell dinged, and there they were—Ezra, Colin, and Atty—accompanied by three bags and half a dozen boxes.
Fuck. This was actually happening.
I rushed over to help as they started unloading, guiding them toward Ezra’s room.
“So, this is it. Bathroom’s down the hall—it’s already set up,” I told him.
He nodded slowly, giving the room the most annoyingly wary look imaginable. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from reacting. Fine, I wasn’t thrilled either, but he didn’t need to make it so damn obvious.
“Thanks,” Ezra grumbled.
Atty gently set a box down by the bed, glancing around. I didn’t think he’d ever been in here before. We’d always holed up in my room or crashed on the couch.
His eyes scanned the space before settling on me. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah, I asked Jaz to get it ready.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
Ezra’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
Screw it. I was bound to get some attitude—might as well get it over with. “Jaz helps me with the house. Cooking, cleaning, that kind of stuff.”
He let out a hum that grated on my nerves.
“I don’t expect her to do everything. I help out when I can—so do the same. Just because she cleans doesn’t mean you get to be a slob.” I hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but this subject always set me off.
He raised a brow but only shrugged.
“He’s not a slob,” Colin chimed in, setting down a box. “For what it’s worth.” His hand landed on my shoulder and gave a quick squeeze—maybe a warning, maybe reassurance. I couldn’t tell.
“While we’re on the subject, I’ve also got a personal trainer. He comes twice a week. The room next door’s a gym,” I added, ripping the bandage off.
Atty’s lips parted, his head tilting in that way that always made butterflies take off in my stomach. “Seriously?”
I nodded and waved them over. The space wasn’t huge—just a treadmill and some weights—but it did the job.
Atty moved around, inspecting everything, while Ezra and Colin drifted away. “You didn’t have this before,” he said.
I leaned against the doorframe. “No. It used to be an office.”
He stopped in front of the treadmill, eyes locked on the heart monitor beside it.
The longer he stared, the more unsettled I became.
He was thinking about it—the overdose. I knew he was.
His shoulders stiffened, and his lips moved like he was swallowing something down.
Then he rubbed a hand over his mouth and crossed his arms.
Atty had these little tells when he got upset—tapping his foot, rolling his shoulders, rubbing his lips. Subtle at first, but the more anxious he got, the more intense they became.
I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but I stayed quiet and waited.
He uncrossed his arms and shifted his weight. Right foot, left, right again. “Do you still need regular checkups?”
“Steve likes to do them. That’s my trainer.”
Another shift.
“But do you need them?”
“It’s safer,” I admitted.
He crossed his arms again, hands clenching and unclenching.
He needs more, Noah.
It clicked, and I rushed to get ahead of it.
“My heart’s not going to just give out, Atty,” I said. “I push myself a little harder than I should. That’s why he likes to keep an eye on it.”
The worry was still there, rigid in his posture. “What does that mean? You push yourself harder than you should?”
“With the team. But it’s okay. We monitor it all the time. That exam I had with the school doctors—the one you saw? I passed it with flying colors.” I stepped closer, placing a hand on his forearm.
“Really?”
“Really. I’ll show you the results if you want. You can even ask Steve—he’ll explain it better than I can.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled softly. “I’d like that. If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. Especially if it helps you feel better.”
“And it doesn’t feel too…” He hesitated. “Too invasive?”
“No. It’s not the same thing. You asking for proof I’m offering willingly isn’t the same.”
He paused, then nodded. “Okay then.” He stepped in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Are you really fine with this?” His eyes flicked toward the room, his voice low.
“If I remember correctly, you were the one who said we needed to get along. What better way than locking us in an apartment together?”
A soft chuckle escaped him. “This feels like shock therapy.”
“Maybe. But it’s fine. I have the space. It only makes sense someone uses it. Especially when the alternative is a lumpy couch.”
“Thanks again.”
“No problem, Atty.”
His lips pressed to mine, and the world righted itself again. It had been days since our tumble in his bedroom, and my body had been craving his closeness like never before—like one taste had only fed the fire.
He parted his lips and licked his way into my mouth as I curled my hands around his neck and rose onto the balls of my feet.
“You still have a mark on your neck,” he murmured between kisses.
I smiled. “Yeah, I know.”
He deepened the kiss, one hand gripping my waist as he drew me in closer. “You’re not embarrassed?”
“Not even a little.”
His laugh puffed against my lips, and it was everything. I tugged on his neck and kissed him again.
“It’s nice.”
“What?”
“The hickey. It looks nice.”
I groaned into the kiss. He was so fucking cute.
Atty pressed me back against the doorframe. It dug into my back, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. His lips moved with practiced confidence, over and over again, holding me there.
“Are the walls thick here?” Ezra’s voice sliced through the haze.
Our lips broke apart as reality hit—loud and unwelcome. Ezra stood a few feet away, one brow arched, his expression laced with bored disapproval.
“What?”
“I asked if the walls were thick,” he repeated, giving Atty a pointed look. “Because they’re paper-thin in yours.”
Atty’s neck turned a violent shade of pink. He looked like a deer in the headlights, lips pressed into a thin, mortified line. I couldn’t help the laugh that rose in my chest.
Reluctantly, I stepped out of Atty’s arms. “Haven’t tested it, but you’ll let us know, no doubt.”
Ezra made a face—part smirk, part grimace—and shrugged, heading for the living room.
I looked over my shoulder at Atty.
“He totally heard us.”
I snorted, grabbing his hand and giving it a tug. “Obviously.”
“How much do you think he heard? That went on for a while.”
My cock twitched at the memory. “Don’t worry about that.”
Colin and Ezra were standing by the terrace doors when we joined them.
“You playing again?” Colin asked brightly, nodding toward the drum set.
“Yeah, for a few months now.”
He turned to Atty. “Have you seen him play yet? He’s pretty good—better than you’d expect.”
“That’s mildly offensive. I have drummer energy.”
“I haven’t, not on the drums at least,” Atty replied with a warm smile.
“And you just play out here? Don’t the neighbors mind?” Ezra asked.
“The unit below is usually empty. I haven’t had any complaints. But if it becomes a problem, I can move it to my room and soundproof it.”
“I don’t mind,” he said with a casual wave.
“Cool. Just send me your work schedule and I’ll work around it and school,” I added.
“School?” Colin asked, surprised.
“He’s doing summer coursework,” Atty explained.
“Really?” Ezra said, stepping over to the drums and running a finger along the edge of a cymbal.
“Yeah. Catching up. I start next week.”
He nodded. “Should we order in?”
We all agreed and dropped onto the couch. Atty urged me closer, sliding his arm around my shoulders as I leaned back against his chest.
He was wearing those short athletic shorts again—the kind I’d seen him in more times than I could count.
It was always some variation of a T-shirt and those shorts, or sometimes sweats.
Atty always had that look about him, like he was either coming from the gym or heading there, and damn, it worked for him.
In those shorts, every ridge of muscle along his thick thighs was visible—a living sculpture in motion.
The hair on his body was a light blond, somehow perfectly placed, like it had been groomed by nature itself.
His armpits looked like the kind of place you’d want to bury your face in.
And that happy trail? I could practically drool just thinking about it.
I imagined my hand gliding down his sculpted abs, lower and lower, until I reached—
“Do you want me to stay over?” Atty whispered in my ear, snapping me out of my very not-so-innocent thoughts about his groin.
My hand froze mid-pattern on his leg. The answer was an obvious yes. But that wasn’t what we were doing. We had crossed a line, but it didn’t mean we had to send it all to hell.
And judging by where my brain had gone a few seconds ago, maybe not the smartest idea if we were still attempting to keep some distance. Not if. We were doing this. I was doing things right this time.
“Remember the rules?” I whispered back, placing a kiss along his jaw to soften the blow.
His arm tightened around my neck as he pulled me closer. His nose brushed the edge of my ear, and every hair on my body stood at attention. What was it about this guy? It was like he could manipulate my body’s responses at will.
“I wasn’t implying anything,” he said. “But now that you mention it…”
“Nope. Not mentioning anything. Plus, you’ve got work tomorrow. And I have a run. Then drums—”
“What?”
“I practice a couple times a week.”
“No, no.” His thumb tilted my face toward his. Those pale eyes locked on mine. “A run?”
I nodded. “I run in the mornings.”
Atty just stared, and something unspoken passed between us.
Yes, I’m taking care of myself. And yes, this made me feel closer to you.