Noah
“So . . .” I can tell from the playful lilt in Chance’s voice and the small grin on his way too handsome face that whatever he’s going to say next will likely rile me up the way he likes to. But I don’t really care. I find myself craving his next words. Needing the lightness of them.
This normalcy.
Us sitting on the sofa in my living room. It’s L-shaped, and he’s on the shorter part. His long legs are stretched out after he took his shoes off, and his back is up against the corner. I sit on the other side with my legs kicked up on the ottoman—my shoes also off.
It’s comfortable in a way I haven’t experienced in a really long time.
There’s an old movie playing on Netflix and a bowl of popcorn between us that we both reach for every once in a while. “Go ahead. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” I say, pretending to be already annoyed, but honestly, I’m looking forward to hearing his question.
“Nancy and Noah.” He’s grinning, and I toss a piece of popcorn at him because of the singsongy way he says our names together.
“Yup. That was us. For a long damn time.” I toss a piece of popcorn into my mouth and chew quietly. Not really wanting to think about my ex-wife, but then again, thinking it’s kind of nice to be able to do that with an actual friend.
Not someone who’s trying to figure out if our marriage can be saved. Who knew us as kids and thinks it’s just a damn shame we fell apart. Who tells me their opinion every time I see them in town.
“You don’t have to talk about it . . .” He quickly backs off, looking sheepish, and I don’t want that. I want to pull him back.
“No. It’s okay. It was a good marriage.” He looks surprised by that, his brows arching, and I laugh. “It was. We were just really young when we got married.” Way too damn young.
“How young?” he asks, looking genuinely interested.
“Eighteen.” He frowns, and I laugh again, feeling lighter somehow, despite the heaviness of the topic and this whole damn night. “We were seventeen when we found out she was pregnant with LeAnn.”
He nods absently, chewing on popcorn before he speaks again. “That must have been really scary.”
“Oh, it was,” I say with a light laugh because even though I was scared, I can’t think about LeAnn without smiling.
She’s been the best part of my life by far.
“I was scared shitless. My dad wanted me to drop out and start working right away, but Nancy’s dad begged me to finish school and go to college.
He and his wife let me move in, and they helped a lot with LeAnn when she was first born. ”
“That was good of them.”
I nod in agreement, not holding any bad feelings toward the couple. They were there for us, no matter how disappointed they were in our choices. “Her father did insist we get married as soon as we were eighteen though.”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Fucking small towns.”
I just smile slightly because I have a love/hate relationship with small towns, but I know in the end I wouldn’t make it in a big town. I like simplicity far too much.
“It was okay. I loved Nancy. And when LeAnn was born, I was totally gone for my kid. She smiled up at me and grabbed my finger, and that was just it.”
He’s smiling big now, and I shrink back, a little embarrassed. I don’t usually gush like that. It’s not my thing. And he seems amused, but thankfully, he doesn’t harp on it. “So Nancy and you? The marriage was good?”
I nod, but my stomach twists with guilt I still feel about our marriage. “It was for a while. I was comfortable. I went to college while working as much as I could. My grandpa passed and left us this house, so we moved in, and I started fixing it up. I got the job coaching at Kensley. I was happy.”
“She wasn’t?” he asks carefully. The popcorn in his hand is gone, and mine is too. So there’s nothing left to distract from the conversation.
“No. And I didn’t see it—or maybe didn’t want to—until it was too late.
” I think about her trying to talk to me and how I was busy, stuck in my little bubble of being the coach, fixing up the house, and being a dad.
But I was a shitty husband. “She wanted more. Her parents had moved out of Kensley when LeAnn was younger. They wanted us to move to the city where they live, but I wouldn’t hear of it.
Nancy wanted to go, said she hated this small town. I thought it was just talk.”
“But it wasn’t.” He’s not being an ass, just pointing out the obvious.
“Nope. She left, and I knew I messed it up. But by that point, it was long over. I didn’t want to move out of here, and she did. We loved each other once, but it just wasn’t enough.”
He nods like he understands and moves closer to me, propping his feet up next to mine and moving the popcorn bowl to his other side. “And the other stuff?”
I half grin. “Being bisexual? That other stuff?”
He nods. “Yeah. Did Nancy know?”
I shake my head, feeling hot all over at the thought of her knowing. It wasn’t something I could ever tell her. Nancy was very . . . proper. We’ll go with that.
“No. I knew pretty early on I was attracted to males as well as females, but I also knew it wouldn’t go over well. I fell for Nancy in high school, and there just wasn’t a reason to tell anyone.”
“Other than it being a part of you,” he says quietly, and my stomach remains in knots, thinking about the secret I held for so damn long.
I manage a stilted smile. “Yeah. Other than that.”
“Did you date after she left?” He changes the conversation a little, but not to a subject I’m more comfortable with.
“No. It hasn’t been that long. Only a couple of years.”
His eyes widen. “Holy shit. You haven’t had sex in a couple of years?”
Now my eyes widen, and I nearly choke on my own spit.
He seriously just says whatever comes to his mind.
And I don’t dare tell him it’s been more than a couple of years.
Nancy and I had stopped having sex at least a full year before she left, maybe two.
“It’s not that big of a deal. Not everyone needs sex all the time. ”
He huffs. “No. But a couple of years?” He shakes his head. “No wonder you’re so damn grumpy.”
“Fuck you too,” I say and nudge his shoulder with my own.
He laughs. “Look, if you need me to throw you a bone—”
I nudge him again. “Stop.”
He continues to laugh, and so do I. It’s light and free. Comfortable.
But I can’t think about him throwing me a bone. I can’t dwell on any of the dirty, sexy thoughts that half sentence sent through my mind because Chance is off-limits. It would be incredibly dangerous to start anything with him.
And even if we did, I’d have to keep it a secret. I can’t and won’t do that to him.
So all we can ever be is friends.