Chapter 31 NOAH
NOAH
Gabe’s still asleep, curled against me when I blink awake again.
The room is brighter now, meaning we’ve been here a while.
I’m probably going to be late to work, but I can’t find it in me to care, not when I get to hold him like this.
He’s facing me, my arm draped over his waist where I left it, my palm warm against his back.
His face looks so peaceful, devoid of the worry that usually creeps in when he’s awake.
He looks younger, jaw relaxed, mouth parted.
I want him to sleep this well every night, free of nightmares, and waking in my arms.
Every time I get to share one of these simple moments of intimacy with him, I fall a little deeper. It’s in the quiet—in the moments he holds my gaze longer than he would anyone else’s, when his fingers slip into mine, when he’s having a bad day and lets me hold him.
What happened earlier is on my mind. The way he froze, the way he stayed anyway. Gave me more of himself. And then he grinded against me until we both came like a couple of horny teenagers.
I stare at the ceiling for a moment, grinning like an idiot.
My grin falters as all the pieces click together in my mind—how he jolted when I grabbed his ass as he straddled me last week, the fact that he panicked when I put my weight on him this morning.
Everything he told me after his nightmare the other evening.
I’ll be more careful. I understand now he isn’t interested in being touched like that.
But I can’t help wondering if he wants to touch me that way.
I’ve never bottomed before. I like to use toys on myself now and then, but I’ve never been in the type of relationship where I trusted someone enough to fuck me. Never trusted anyone enough to be that vulnerable with them.
I trust Gabe, though. More than anyone else in my life. I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me. And if all he ever wants is what we have now, I’ll enjoy every second of it.
He wiggles beside me, stretching a little before his eyes blink open. His hair’s a mess, and his lips are still swollen from kissing.
“Morning, again,” I murmur, brushing my fingers through his hair. The dark waves are so thick and soft, he leans into my touch further, eyes fluttering.
His lips twitch. “Morning, again.”
Neither of us makes a move to get up right away. We lie there, tucked under the duvet, facing each other. It feels easy. Like we’ve done this a hundred mornings in a row.
Eventually, Gabe sighs. “I should get up. Need to open the store.”
I groan into my pillow. “I don’t wanna adult, I’d rather cuddle all day.”
He laughs at my expense. “We could do that the next time we both have a day off.”
“Really?” I ask excitedly, making him smile and nod.
“Fine, but I’m holding you to that. I’m gonna cling to you like a koala for a full day the first chance I get.” I peck his pleased little grin. “I have to meet Zeke and Jules at the gym, anyway.”
He rolls out of bed first, heading for the bathroom with a glance over his shoulder. I drag myself up and wait until I hear the water shut off before taking my turn.
By the time I come back, Gabe’s dressed—a black T-shirt, dark jeans, cardigan sleeves pushed up—he’s absolutely stunning. He doesn’t usually dress in dark clothes, but it makes his eyes shine.
I grab shorts and a tank from my drawers. Aiden bought me this top for my last birthday, it reads: Working on my six pack (of donuts). It makes me laugh every time. I catch sight of Gabe’s bedroom door as I tug the top over my head. It’s wide open, and the bed inside is empty.
“Guessing Ciarán’s up?” I question, nodding toward the door.
“Must be.”
We find him barefoot by the counter in the kitchen, Gabe’s shirt hanging off him like a dress, earphones in, singing under his breath. He doesn’t notice us, lost in whatever song’s playing.
He’s dancing—slow at first, then energetic and deliberate, hips rolling with the rhythm only he can hear. He drifts closer to the counter, sliding a hand along it as he sways, the hem of the shirt riding higher with each step.
Then, with a lazy grin to no one but himself, he drags his hands up the length of his thighs, over his hips, dragging Gabe’s shirt up—and that’s when I catch the faintest peek of black lace underneath.
My brows climb up my face, but before I can even blink, Gabe groans and slaps a hand over my eyes. “Nope.”
A laugh spills out of me. I slide my arms around his middle, and he drops his hand, bracing it on my chest. “You feeling possessive, baby?”
That gorgeous color rises to his cheeks, and he nibbles the corner of his lip, staring at my chest. He looks unsure. Fuck, does he actually think I’d be interested in anyone but him? Hasn’t he realized he’s the center of my world?
I brush my nose against his. “Gabe, look at my eyes.”
He does, the green glowing in the morning light. There’s a line between his brows. “These eyes,” I tell him, “they’re only for you. They only want you. I will never look at another person the way I look at you.”
I feel like I’m cutting myself open, every emotion I feel for him on show.
And with the way he looks at me, the effect my words have is obvious.
His chest moves quicker, his lips part. Suddenly, I’m against the wall, Gabe’s hands are in my hair, and his mouth is on mine with a fervent intensity I didn’t expect but welcome.
His hips meet mine as he pins me to the wall, tongues sliding together.
“Oh my. I should stay over more often.”
We break apart, Gabe’s whole face going splotchy with color, his eyes widen, looking at me like I can go back in time and stop this from happening. I start laughing again and pull him back to me, and he presses his face into my neck.
“Good morning, Ciarán,” I call over Gabe’s shoulder.
“It is a good morning, Noah.” He chuckles. “And here I thought you two were finally done making a racket,” he says, leaning a hip against the counter. “Had to put my earphones in to protect my innocent little ears.”
Gabe’s face whips up so fast it’s impressive. “We weren’t—”
“Oh, you were,” Ciarán cuts in, smug and teasing. “This place has extremely thin walls. Lucky for you, I’ve got better taste than to kink-shame before breakfast. But then you come in here and offer a live show too…”
I lose it, cackling so hard I have to brace a hand on my stomach. Gabe groans and shoves my shoulder lightly on his way past me, fleeing down the hall, muttering something about needing to crawl into a hole.
“Aw, come on, baby,” I call after him, still grinning. “We were hot as hell.”
That earns me a scandalized look over his shoulder before he disappears toward the store.
When I look back at Ciarán, he’s staring at me intently. “Noah,” he starts, sounding serious, making my nerves spike. Those bright eyes take me in, and it feels like an eternity before he speaks again. “Thank you.”
“Um, for what?” I ask as my brows furrow. Does he mean because we took care of him last night? I don’t need thanks for that.
His whole expression softens, and he gives me the kind of smile I usually see him aim at Gabe. “For taking care of him. Treating him right.”
“Oh,” I mutter, feeling oddly shy hearing that, it’s not a feeling I’m used to. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
He gives an easy shrug. “I know. But I wanted you to know I’m glad you two have each other.
Gabe’s a special person, he deserves nothing but good things.
” His expression is so earnest, I can see how much he loves his friend.
His next words hit me in the chest. “And so do you. You’re a great guy. I’m glad we’re friends.”
For the second time this morning, I feel the unusual rush of color to my cheeks. “Thanks, Ciarán. Guess my cheesy jokes are paying off.” I laugh awkwardly.
He flashes me a pearly white smile. “That’s not it. You’re sweet and loyal, kind and understanding.” God, I want to cry as he says that. “Now, go down there and kiss him goodbye.”
I shift awkwardly on my feet, feeling weirdly emotional that Gabe’s friend thinks of me that way. My friend.
“Thanks for saying that. It means a lot to me. I’m glad we’re friends too,” I mumble.
“God, you two are perfect for each other.” He sighs fondly.
“Later, Ciarán,” I say, laughing as I move to leave.
“Bye,” he singsongs, putting both earbuds back in as he turns back to the kitchen.
I shake my head, still smiling as I jog down the steps.
I slow when I hit the bottom, turning toward the counter.
I don’t really care how late I am, it’s physically impossible for me to walk past this man, and I need my kiss goodbye.
I’m not even trying to play it cool anymore. Did I ever? Probably not.
Gabe’s fixing up the register for the day.
“Hey, again,” I say, leaning over into his space.
He glances up, and that pink still lingers high on his cheekbones. Embarrassed, sure, but there’s a pleased curve to his mouth. Like maybe, hopefully, he doesn’t regret anything that happened upstairs.
“Hi, again,” he replies, in that deep, hushed voice of his.
I step around the counter so we’re side by side.
This irresistible pull I have to be close to him grows each day.
“I was thinking—” I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.
I love our morning runs together. Even if my legs don’t.
“Since we missed our run, want to go after I finish at the gym? I know we usually just go in the morning, but I thought we could head down to the lake, watch the sunset.”
I need time to plan a proper date, something special that Gabe could enjoy, somewhere he’d feel safe and comfortable.
So I know going to the lake isn’t really a date, but it could be pretty romantic.
For a second, something flickers across his face.
Hesitation, or nerves maybe, and I start to backtrack.
“We don’t have to,” I start, “I just thought—”