Chapter 23 NOAH
NOAH
I’m still damp from the world’s fastest shower when I step out of my room.
My hoodie sticks to me as I tug at the hem, trying to work it down over my waist while I toe on my sneakers.
The laces are a tangle from me kicking them off last night, too tired to care after staying late with Aiden. I care now. I’m late.
I might have fallen back asleep after running with Gabe this morning. I don’t know how he runs like that every day. I thought I was in great shape, but he’s proving me wrong.
The apartment smells like him. Not the tea, exactly—though that, too—but Gabe’s own warmth threaded through it. It’s a delicate scent, comforting. It smells like… home.
And if I stand here for one more second sniffing the air like a weirdo, I’ll crawl back into bed and never leave.
“Work,” I tell myself, not for the first time this week. “Be an adult. You own a damn business.”
I grab my phone, keys, and the protein bar I’m pretending counts as breakfast. I take the stairs two at a time, still tying the string of my shorts as I head into the store. I hit the bottom step and stop because there he is.
Gabe, between the shelves, standing on his toes, reaching for the top shelf.
The sweater he’s wearing—dark knit, thin enough to hint at the lines of his body—rides up as he stretches.
There’s a sliver of skin, pale but warm looking, and a dark line of thick hair at his navel that disappears into his jeans.
It’s ridiculous, how my brain just… short-circuits at sight. The way heat darts straight through me, and my mouth starts to water. I’m a grown man with a day full of clients and admin waiting, and I am undone by one peek at his bare skin.
I should call out, be casual. “Morning. I’m heading out.” Something sane. Instead, I move toward him, like there’s a thread from my sternum to his and he’s pulled it without meaning to.
The paperback slots into place. He pivots to grab the next one, eyes cutting toward me as if he sensed the air shift.
“Hi.” His shy smile greets me. “Heading out?”
“Yeah,” I manage, but it comes out rough. “Just—”
Just what?
Just needed to look at you first.
Just wanted to see your face.
Just wanted to be greedy for one minute.
I stop in front of him, close enough that I can feel his body heat.
I press a kiss to his cheek. An innocent caress. He’s warm under my lips.
The corner of his mouth is right there, sweet and tempting, so I press another, slower kiss there, and his breath shakes so delicately, everything in me goes hot. I drag my lips back to his cheek as his skin goes pink, and the tiny shift of it under my lips drives me wild.
“Morning,” I say, trying to sound light, but it comes out shaky.
“Morning,” he whispers back.
And then I don’t make a decision so much as fall into it. I kiss him properly.
It starts slow, but Gabe tilts his head, opening for me, and that’s it, I’m gone. My tongue brushes his, and he makes a sound, small and needy, that sends all the blood in my body rushing south.
He fists my hoodie and walks us backward until his back meets the shelf. My hands find the shelves, caging him in without touching anything below his ribs, because I promised myself I wouldn’t push him faster than he’s ready for. He’s leading this thing.
He tastes like mint and something sweet.
His fingers leave my hoodie and curl around the edge of the shelf behind him, knuckles brushing my hand, and then he makes a whimpering sound I might spend the rest of my life trying to hear again. The kiss heats further, and it’s laced with a shy urgency that tells me more than words ever could.
Careful, I think, like a mantra. Slow down. Don’t rush. Don’t be the guy who takes when he should be listening.
If he wants me closer, he can pull. If he wants me gone, there’s no weight to shrug off.
He speaks not with words, but with his body.
A tentative roll of his hips forward, and then stills, as if he’s checking for my reaction.
I can’t hold in the breath that punches out of me when the hard outline of his cock brushes mine through the thin barrier of my shorts.
He feels that, feels me, and a flush runs up his throat.
He does it again, more intentionally, and the sound I make is half begging, half thank you very much.
“Fuck,” I breathe against his mouth.
His lips part on a gasp, and he presses forward again, finding a rhythm. There’s a gracelessness in it that I love, the way our hips don’t quite sync at first, the way his breathing changes as he finds a new tempo.
He drags his mouth away just long enough to breathe, “Noah.” The need in it makes my balls ache.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur against his jaw, kissing my way to his neck. I promised I wouldn’t push, and I meant it, even while my hands shake with restraint from not touching him. “I’ll stop.”
He shakes his head rapidly. “Please don’t.”
His hands leave the shelf to catch in the sides of my hoodie again, fingers curling into the fabric, tugging me the last inch until there’s no space at all.
He grinds up slowly, then a little harder, and a shudder runs through him.
I lift my head back to watch him as his eyes flutter.
His lashes are so dark against his cheek, I feel ridiculous for noticing them right now, but I can’t help it. They’re so pretty.
His sweater rides higher with each move, exposing more of that strip of soft, bare skin. My fingers itch to touch him, to learn how his skin feels under my palm. Muscles I didn’t know I could clench burn with restraint.
His breath ghosts against my mouth. He makes another sound, this one surprised and hungry, and his teeth catch mine in an awkward slide that makes us both laugh into the kiss—breathless, giddy—and then he does it again, hips rolling, and the friction goes from good to almost too much in a heartbeat.
A group of kids yell and laugh as they pass the front windows. Gabe jerks back on instinct, and my body follows his lead because I’ll always follow him.
We break apart, panting like we did something much more than kiss. He blinks at me, pupils blown wide. His cheeks are flushed, his mouth kiss swollen. I glance down, and there it is, the thick shape of his cock pressing against denim, trapped and insistent. The sight nearly kills me.
“Fuck,” I groan, staring at his crotch. I'd give anything to drop to my knees and worship this man right now.
He laughs, breathless and startled. He reaches for the hem of his sweater, but I get there first, tugging it down for him, smoothing the knit over his stomach with a gentle brush of my knuckles against the dark trail of hair there, that’s more indulgence than help.
His skin is hot against mine. He makes a sound that suggests he noticed the knuckles, too.
Then I look down at myself and immediately regret every wardrobe decision I’ve ever made. Gym shorts. Great for mobility. Terrible for pretending you’re not turned on in a public space. “Well, that’s… subtle,” I mutter.
His eyes flick down to my crotch and back with an expression that’s close to wicked, if wicked could exist in someone so soft. The faintest smirk curves his lips. I want to kiss that, too. I want to kiss every version of his mouth.
He goes to say something, then he shakes his head.
I tilt my head. “What?”
“Nothing I… I was gonna make a dumb joke.”
I grin. “My favorite kind. Come on, tell me.”
“It’s really bad. It’ll be worse now because I didn’t say it right away,” he groans, looking embarrassed.
I bat my lashes at him playfully. “Please?”
Clearly, I’m not above begging.
He blows out a breath, squares his shoulders, and says seriously, “Is that a pack of Oreos, or are you just happy to see me?”
We both just stare at each other, lips quivering. Then a laugh breaks out of us both. I lean in and catch his mouth one last time, softer than before, just a brush of lips to taste that sound.
“You’re amazing. Bye,” I murmur against him, even though every cell in me is protesting the thought of leaving.
“Bye, Blue,” he says, and a stupid grin spreads across my face.
I step away, because if I don’t do it this second, I don’t think I’ll ever leave him. It doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, really, but my best friend might kill me if I’m a no-show because I’m making heart eyes at his brother.
The unusually chilly May air is cool enough to make me suck in a breath as I walk outside, which helps my current situation.
A little. I shove my hands in my hoodie pocket and head down Main Street, legs moving on autopilot.
Every few steps, my eyes find their way over my shoulder, back to Evergreen.
My body’s still buzzing, reminding me what just happened. I’m hard as hell, and I’ve got a whole day of work ahead of me, which is not ideal. But underneath the ache, there’s this positive feeling I can’t shake. He didn’t back away. He didn’t get nervous or shut down. He initiated it.
I can wait. Let him keep taking the lead. Because I don’t want to rush him and screw this up.
Zeke is behind the front desk when I arrive. I give him a wave and head toward the lockers. I drop my bag, go through my usual arrival routine, check the class timetable, personal training clients, and most importantly—start up my playlist.
I’m feeling some “Saturday Night” by Whigfield right about now.
Aiden’s not here yet, but I hope he arrives in the next few minutes to appreciate my song choice.
I grab a marker and write out the warm-up on the board for the next class.
The letters swim for a second, and instead of the word “squats,” all I can see is Gabe, flushed and breathless, back pressed to the bookshelf while he grinds into me.
I grin like the simp I am, and finish writing.
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen, trying to come up with something that says holy fuck, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, but also, I’d be fine spending forever just holding your hand.
Turns out there’s not really a text for that.
The front door opens, and I shove my phone into my hoodie pocket as my first client walks in. Tom gives me a small wave, the kind people give when they’re not sure if they belong in a gym yet. I like working with him—he’s determined in that quiet way that makes you root for him.
“Morning,” I call out cheerily. “You ready to hate me in new and exciting ways?”
He chuckles. “Is there any other reason to be here?”
By the time Tom leaves, promising—probably lying—that he’ll stretch at home, I’ve gotten my head back on straight. Mostly.
Until I check my phone and see Gabe’s name on the screen.
Gabe: Sorry if that was too much earlier.
Gabe: I didn’t mean to… you know. In the shop.
I lean against the counter, reading it over.
Has he been worrying about this all day?
My heart squeezes. Maybe he thinks I didn’t like it, that I’ve been keeping things slow because I don’t want more.
I’ve kept my hands above his waist every time we’ve kissed, careful not to push, but maybe that’s made him think I don’t want him.
I take my time before I answer.
Me: It wasn’t too much, it was perfect
Me: And just so you know, it’s not that I don’t want to go further. But there’s no rush, okay? Only what you want, when you want.
I’d rather be having this conversation in person, but I don’t want him spending any more time worrying. There’s a long pause. I can picture him chewing on his lip, probably brushing his thumb over that scar like he does when he’s thinking too hard.
Meanwhile, I’m over here staring at my phone like an overeager puppy waiting for a treat.
Gabe: Ok
Gabe: I want to go further
Well fuck, now my metaphorical tail is wagging. I fall onto the seat behind the desk, hard, legs not cooperating for a second. I didn’t expect him to put it so plainly.
Aiden breezes in with coffees, and I shove my phone in my pocket and pray to any deity listening that he doesn’t notice I’m hard, thinking about his brother.
“Coffee,” he grunts
“Look at you, wandering in like you own the place,” I tease, taking one from him.
“Don’t,” he grumbles, eyeing the gym. “I was up half the night with Rose. She’s going through some sort of sleep regression.”
“Shit, man, that’s rough. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good, was full of energy going to daycare this morning. I, on the other hand, feel like death.”
“Old age catching up with you,” I snicker, and he swats my arm.
“Okay, enough shit talk.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Get to work.”
“I’ve been working all morning!” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes at me, grinning.
He heads off to set up the next circuit, and I check my phone again.
Me: I think it was pretty clear HOW MUCH I liked what happened this morning. There was substantial evidence
I grin at my phone. This time, the reply takes longer. I’m hoping he’s just serving a customer and I haven’t crossed a line saying that. I know I shouldn’t be flirting with him while I’m in the middle of the gym, but I can’t help myself.
Gabe: It was.
Gabe: Those shorts made the evidence very easy to see…
A laugh bursts out of me. He’s flirting back.
Me: Is that a complaint?
The response takes so long that I almost think he isn’t giving me one.
Gabe: No
One word. That’s all it takes, and I’m molten. I shake my head, still smiling as the next group of clients comes in. My body goes through the motions, but my brain keeps replaying the way Gabe looked at me, the way he said my name, the heat in his voice when he asked me not to stop.
And yeah, I’m wired tight. I’m restless. But I’m also stupidly happy about it.