Chapter 5
FIVE
NOAH
Two weeks had passed since Noah had met Carmine. To say he’d struggled to get this man out of his head was an understatement. Not only was Carmine gorgeous, he was also talented. In no time he’d opened Noah’s mind to ideas he hadn’t considered.
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
Tito sat at Noah’s kitchen island, eating grapes. They’d just come in from training.
“I’m meeting that architect guy.”
Noah prayed that had come off as nonchalant but not too nonchalant.
“Oooh,” Tito said, throwing a grape into his mouth. “Excited?”
Noah frowned. “I’m keen to see his designs.”
This made Tito throw his head back and cackle.
“Sure,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I believe you. I saw the way a little bit of dribble came out of your mouth when you saw that photo of him.”
“You are such a child,” Noah replied. “What are you up to?”
Noah was keen to move the conversation on. He’d been careful not to bang on about Carmine too much. Perhaps he’d failed in that mission.
“Nothing much. Might watch a movie.”
“No you won’t.”
Marge, their cleaner, appeared from Noah’s bedroom where she’d been vacuuming. Tito snapped to attention.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Noah and Jonas found it hilarious how this short, slight woman put the fear of God into the usually cocky Tito Lopes. Of course, Noah was her pet. He had always been a clean freak.
“I’m shampooing the carpet in there because you dropped cranberry juice. Again.”
She gave a harried look to Noah. She certainly wasn’t giving up her life’s work, which appeared to be housetraining Tito.
“So I’m being kicked out of my own home?”
Marge nodded. “Got a problem with that?”
Tito turned to Noah seemingly for support. Noah threw his hands up.
“Don’t drag me into it. Who’s the golden child, Marge?”
She came over and pinched his cheek.
“You are,” she said proudly. “It takes me less than an hour to do this place.”
Noah smirked at Tito, who threw a grape at him. He received a swat over the head from Marge for his trouble.
“You can pick that up too.”
To Noah amazement, Tito hopped off the stool and retrieved the errant fruit.
“I was going to,” he said sulkily.
Noah and Jonas were loving the appearance of Marge. He suspected that the club had fully briefed her. Tito had gone through three cleaners since September, and it was only mid-January. They’d clearly decided to bring the big guns in.
“I might get a lift with you into Manchester,” Tito said, putting the grape in the bin. “I’m in the mood to spend some money.”
“Carmine is coming here actually.”
Noah braced for impact. He’d kept this quiet, knowing full well his neighbour and teammate would make a big deal out of it.
Judging by the expression on Tito’s face as he got back onto his stool, Noah had been absolutely right.
“A cheeky business meeting for two at home is it?” Tito said. “How cosy.”
“Leave the lad alone,” Marge said as she wiped the kitchen work surface.
Tito watched him intently. It felt as if the evil eye of Mordor had him in its gaze.
“Can’t you go and annoy Jonas?” Noah asked.
“He’s otherwise engaged.”
They shared a meaningful glance. Jonas was in a secret relationship with Brockton’s captain, Adam. They wanted to keep it well under the media radar.
“He’s never at home,” Marge said. “There’s only one thing that keeps a man from his own bed like that. Sex.”
She said the last word and wrinkled her nose.
“Doesn’t Mr Marge get his conjugal rights, Marge?” Tito asked.
Marge approached Tito, who had the decency to seem scared.
“Mr Marge never slept in his own bed again once he got into mine. That’s how I know.”
Noah and Tito burst out laughing.
“Good work, Marge,” Tito said. “I never doubted you for a second.”
She shoved him playfully.
“You are too cheeky for your own good, Tito Lopes.”
Noah glanced at the clock. It was quarter past one. Carmine would be arriving at half past, and he needed this emerging comedy act out of his house.
“I think that’s good for today, Marge,” he said.
“I understand,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
“Don’t you start.”
“Come on, Marge,” Tito said, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “We won’t stay where we’re not wanted. I can talk to you while you’re shampooing the curtains or whatever.”
Marge shook her head. “I have news for you, sunshine. My church is having a sale and I promised them some decent clobber. We can go through those things you sorted out the other week.”
Tito raised his eyebrows. “That’s practically theft.”
“Not if you’re consenting.”
“I’m not.”
He leapt as she pinched his arm.
“Okay, fine. I am. Come on.”
Marge gathered up her things. Tito took a handful of grapes and stuffed them in his pocket.
“The supermarket delivery is late,” he explained.
“Take them all.”
Tito winked and helped himself.
“I’d get changed if I were you,” he said. “If you were hoping to make a good impression.”
Noah still had his tracksuit on.
“Oh, if you could leave a bag of things out for my sale too,” Marge said, patting his arm. “The church would be very grateful. Now best of luck.”
Noah didn’t even bother to reply that he was Carmine’s client. He didn’t need luck. Mercifully, they beat a retreat. Noah dashed around the apartment, making sure everything was perfect. Of course, Marge had left nothing to chance. Even the cushions were expertly plumped.
A nervous energy ran through him and it wasn’t entirely linked to seeing his potential new home for the first time. Albeit on screen.
The night before, he’d driven out to the plot of land. It was a beautiful sunset without a cloud in the sky. A rarity for Brockton in the winter. Noah had captured some great shots that he wanted to share with Carmine.
“I’ll grab Marge some things,” he said to himself.
After getting a carrier bag from the kitchen, he went through to his bedroom.
Tito had commandeered one of the two spare rooms in his apartment as a closet.
Noah didn’t need all that. Besides, he kept his rooms free in case Malcolm and his friends wanted to stay.
It hadn’t happened yet. Noah remained hopeful.
If only he wasn’t so busy all the time. He had no idea how Adam juggled responsibilities of being a captain, a father and a boyfriend.
Whenever he went into his wardrobes, he had pangs of guilt. He might not be a shopper in the league of Tito but he still had an obscene amount of clothes. Most of them were sent for free. That had picked up since he’d outed himself.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
He grabbed a raft of shirts he’d not even worn yet. They might as well go to help Marge’s church as sitting in there. As he selected the garments for the chop, he imagined what his new bedroom would be like.
It was so exciting to be finally making his dream a reality. He only hoped that Carmine had picked up on his whole vibe. Of course there were other architects out there. Yet, Noah wanted Carmine to do it for a ton of different reasons.
He was a normal young man with normal needs. Another area he’d neglected over recent years.
Why shouldn’t I have a love life?
Also there had been a connection between them. Noah was crap at picking up signals usually and it had been obvious to him.
Tito’s words about getting changed came back to haunt him. With a sigh, he rifled around his clothes.
The trick would be in not coming across like he’d made a huge amount of effort. That wasn’t his style. He hummed to himself as he put on the clothes.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror. He had on Tommy Hilfiger jeans and a tight vintage white T-shirt.
Too casual?
I’m at home, for fuck’s sake. I can hardly break out the tux.
Holding up a pink shirt, he wondered if he should go for that instead.
“Fuck. I should have asked Tito to help me.”
The doorbell ringing forced his hand.
“Oh well,” he said to his reflection. “He’ll have to take me as I am.”
Noah bounded through the flat to the intercom. His stomach flipped when he saw Carmine on the screen.
“Come on in,” he said. “I’m on the first floor.”
He pressed the button and exhaled.
His mother would have said he had a case of the collywobbles. She’d said that every time he had an important match and the nerves were getting to him.
Noah opened the door as Carmine was walking down the corridor. He looked a knockout in black trousers and a black wool coat. His dark hair slicked to the side and a hint of stubble.
I’ll have to buy Tito something. Thank God I changed.
“Hi,” he said beaming.
“Hi,” Noah replied. “Come on in.”
Carmine followed him into the apartment. Noah glanced behind to see Carmine clocking everything.
“Don’t judge me on this place,” Noah said, flicking the coffee machine on. “It’s club furnished. Nothing is mine. That’s all in storage. Here let me take your coat.”
Carmine took it off and handed it to Noah. He could smell Carmine’s spicy cologne. God it was good.
“Glad to hear none of this is your choice,” Carmine said, leaning against the counter. “You had me worried for a second.”
Just having Carmine in his home was making Noah’s temperature skyrocket. He gestured to the stool Tito had recently vacated.
“Shall we review your designs in here?” Noah suggested.
“I can see you’re eager.”
“Always.”
They shared a look before Carmine made a big deal of getting his laptop out. Noah couldn’t hide his amusement. Carmine seemed to be easily spooked. It was charming. It also gave Noah confidence to be himself.
When Noah had been with people in the past, they’d always expected him to take the lead. He was a footballer after all. Usually, he came as a disappointment. Tito fitted the mould much better than he ever had.
Noah set about pouring coffee.
“Milk? Sugar?”
“Neither thanks.”
Something else they had in common. Noah handed him a mug and settled on the stool opposite.
“You take it black too?” Carmine asked.
“Do you know how much fat there is in milk? I do dairy only when I have to.”
Carmine raised an eyebrow. “How very disciplined.”
“That’s me.”
“I can see it pays off.”
Noah chuckled. “Thanks.”
“I meant in your career. Shit. Sorry. That came out wrong.”
“I hope not.”
Another moment shared. Carmine blushed even harder this time.
How did this man survive in Los Angeles?
Carmine fired up the laptop.
“I can’t wait to show you these.”
The excitement on his face mainlined straight to Noah’s heart. Here was a man who cared about what he did. Always a turn-on.
“I’ve never done anything like this before so it’s exciting.”
Carmine grinned. “I like a man who enjoys building plans as much as me.”
“Only if they’re mine. Show me what you’ve done.”
They stared at the laptop screen. For the first time, Noah could visualise what a house of his own would look like.
“Here is the front door. I was thinking a little landscaped garden at the back but the main event being at the front.”
Noah took it all in. His body already tingling in anticipation of the day when he would call this home.
“What is this?” Noah asked, pointing to a side room of what he supposed was the lounge.
“A media room,” Carmine explained. “I figured that you spend a lot of time watching football so you should probably have a cosy nook to do it in. It’s not massive but I thought it was cute.”
“I love that idea. Show me more.”
“I’ve still done the den you wanted but made it more of a chill-out area. I think it’s important to get away from work too.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
They spent the next thirty minutes going through Carmine’s designs in detail. He’d done an amazing job overall. Noah made the odd tweak here and there.
“I’d like a covered veranda, if possible,” he said. “I’ve heard it can get warm here but it’s always pissing down.”
Carmine nodded. “That’s a really good idea. What am I thinking? I’m still in California mode.”
“You were right to put somewhere to sit out. That view needs to be seen to be believed.”
“Oh, I know. I bribed my assistant to drive us up there the day after you came to the office. It’s spectacular. You’ve chosen very well.”
Noah enjoyed Carmine’s attention to detail. So much for his photos.
“Will you be adding that to your bill?”
“Absolutely.”
A tingle ran down Noah’s spine.
“I think I’ve got enough to make the changes you need,” Carmine said, shutting his laptop. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon.”
Noah swallowed hard. “How about I take you for dinner on Saturday night? You can tell me about your progress.”
Carmine stopped. “Is that allowed?”
“Yes, they let me eat. Plus, we’re off on Sunday so I can stay out until gone midnight.”
“Gosh. Then I accept.”
Anticipation swept through Noah’s body. He might not be as out there as Tito but he was beginning to understand the value in seizing the moment.
“Great,” he replied. “I’ll text you where and when.”
He stared into Carmine’s eyes. Of course, he was probably projecting yet there was something that instinctively made Noah trust him.
Let’s hope I’m right for once.