Chance
Ishould just let him have time with his daughter and son-in-law. I saw the way his face lit up when he saw them at the game tonight.
But I also swear I saw a very tiny hint of disappointment there too because we had plans.
Plans that can’t take place when he’s deep in the closet. I don’t know his daughter at all, but from the brief moment I had with her and from what he’s told me, I don’t think she has any hatefulness in her.
She might be surprised to find out her father is in a relationship with a man, but I don’t think it’ll be a big deal to her. I saw the way she looks up to her father. She wants him to be happy.
And God, do I hope I make him happy.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I send a picture of where my truck is currently parked and shoot a text to Noah.
Meet me?
It’s late. I forced myself to wait until well after midnight, but the response is immediate.
Give me five.
I’m smiling as I hop up into the bed of my truck that’s parked down the road from Noah’s house. I’m on the side of the gravel road and under an old tree I’ve pointed out to him a couple of times.
It’s massive and has clearly been there for a long time but is still strong and healthy. It has some old initials scratched into it—L.H. and J.B., with a heart around them—and we have no idea who they belong to.
Less than five minutes later, I see the headlights of Noah’s truck approaching. He turns the engine and the headlights off, hopping out and immediately finding me in the truck bed.
I have a couple of blankets and a thermos with hot cocoa because it’s cold tonight, but thankfully, the sky is clear, and there’s no snow or rain. He climbs up into the back, and his hand finds the back of my head, drawing me into a heated kiss as his way of saying hello.
It’s my favorite way, for sure.
He’s still holding onto the back of my neck when he pulls back to look into my eyes, his breath visible in the cool night air. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I’m dumbfounded. “Why are you sorry?”
His shoulders slump as he sits down next to me. “I wanted you to come back to my house so damn bad tonight. I should have just told LeAnn the truth.”
My heart aches for him because I think deep down, he wants that—hell, I know he does—but I don’t think he’s quite ready. I take his hand in mine. He’s wearing a coat but isn’t wearing gloves like I am. “Please don’t be sorry. You’ll tell her when you’re ready.”
His head hits the back of the truck with a thunk, and he huffs, “I am ready. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “You deserve so much more than this.”
“No,” I say firmly, lifting my head and bringing my hand up to clasp his chin and turn his head to face me. “I want you. You’re more than I could’ve ever imagined.”
He looks pained. “You shouldn’t be a secret.”
I swallow hard because there’s a huge lump in my throat. I don’t want to be a secret either, but he’s not doing it because he’s ashamed of me or even himself. He’s doing it to keep his job in this goddamn town.
Because of the small minds in these towns.
Because of his supposed friend warning him about being different in a town like this.
None of it’s fair, but I’m not willing to give him up.
Not now. Not ever.
“I love you, Noah. That’s all that matters. We’ll figure everything else out.”
He still looks worried as he rests his forehead against mine, and we breathe each other in slowly with white puffs of air between us. “I love you too.”
I grin and then release him long enough to grab the thermos, each of us taking a swig of the warm liquid.
“It’s really fucking cold out here,” he says, looking up at the sky. “But still so damn beautiful.”
I look up at the dark sky, full of bright, gorgeous stars. “It is. There’s nothing like a country sky.”
I lay my head on his shoulder again, still taking in the sky when he says, “I wanted you to come back to my house tonight. Meet LeAnn and Daniel for real. Have cocoa by the fire and talk. Wake up in the morning and make breakfast.”
Yeah, that picture makes my chest squeeze with tension and sadness because God, I want that. So damn badly. “We’ll have that someday.”
I’m not sure I sound all that convincing, but I have to believe we will. We deserve that chance.
He hugs my body close to his, offering up his body heat, and I’ll gladly take it. “Yeah. We will. I’m going to tell her soon.”
“Noah . . .” I start to tell him again that he doesn’t have to do anything he’s not ready for, but he steals my lips with a bruising, confident kiss. His big body moves to cover mine as he climbs onto my lap and intensifies the kiss.
“I’m going to tell her. Not now. But soon,” he breathes against my lips, and all I can do is nod dumbly because with him on my lap and his mouth so damn close, I can’t really think about anything else. “It’s too fucking cold out here though. Let’s move into the truck.”
I chuckle, and even though I agree, I can’t help teasing him a little. “Aw. Old man, are your joints aching?”
“Someday I’m going to take you over my knee.”
“Looking forward to it,” I tease and nip at his bottom lip before we climb out of the back of the truck and into the cab.
I turn on the heat, and we climb into the back seat where I can’t keep my mouth off his. I know we probably don’t have much time, and I’d be happy with only kissing and talking tonight, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t moan in relief when he pushes a hand into my sweats.
I’m thankful as fuck I skipped underwear when he wraps a hand around my aching shaft. I do the same to him, slipping under his tight briefs and working him in time with each stroke of his hand.
We kiss and grind together in the tiny cab of the truck. The windows are fogged-up, but neither of us are bothered by it. I come with a harsh cry, and he goes over the edge moments later before he kisses me hard on the mouth.
“I love you,” he says again, and I swear my heart swells every time I hear him say that.
“I love you too, Coach.”
We clean up using some wet wipes I had stashed in my truck. Not for this occasion, per se, but it worked out.
We say our reluctant goodbyes, damn near unable to pull our lips apart long enough to do it, and then I watch as his headlights disappear down his drive.
I miss him already, which is really ridiculous, considering I’ll see him on Monday.
Still, on my drive home, I miss the hell out of him. Already anticipating the next time I’ll see him.
When I get home, I see a text on my phone, asking if I made it back okay.
And once again, my heart swells. I didn’t have anyone to check on me growing up. Not really. My parents are good parents, but they weren’t overprotective, to say the least.
They didn’t seem to worry all that much, other than to tell me not to be too flamboyant. As if somehow the town would be able to tell I was gay if I wore a certain color or was interested in certain things.
Looking back, I should probably have been more bitter about it, but I chalked it up to the town we lived in.
But Noah . . .
Noah sincerely cares.
He knows the real me, and he wants me to be safe.
And hell, that feels really damn good.