Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA
UNIVERSITY OF SAN DIEGO
Noah hated parties, especially frat parties. However, after graduating from SEAL BUD/s training, a night of switching off his brain after Drew invited him out with the guys, sounded like an amazing idea.
He met Drew on the first day of training. They were both young, dumb, and full of cum. Something that’d been drilled into their heads during basic and several times over their BUD/s training. After today, it was likely they’d end up on different teams and probably wouldn’t see each other again.
So, one last hurrah seemed appropriate.
Plus, they weren’t alone. At least five of the guys came with them, including the brother of the frat President who invited them to the party.
Still, they had nothing in common with those kids. Sure, they might all be around the same age, but at twenty-seven, Noah had already done two tours in Afghanistan and was officially a Navy SEAL. What could they possibly have in common?
“Look, we’re only here to blow off some steam and get ready for duty assignments. For one night, no one is trying to kick our asses.” Drew patted Noah’s shoulder. “Have fun, yeah?”
Andrew ‘Drew’ Callahan was a goofball. Smarter than most and knew more languages than the average trainee.
The second the higher-ups found out he spoke several languages; Drew became a hot commodity.
He said it was his eidetic memory and for the ladies, because nothing got a woman out of their panties quicker than whispering lewd phrases in different languages.
Noah didn’t doubt the panties thing, but he believed it had more to do with Drew’s big fucking brain and being a genius. He razzed the shit out of Drew for it, too. There wasn’t anyone else in the world he wanted by his side when shit went south.
Between them, Drew was taller. He had that beach bum body, only those who came from the big island or California had, except Drew was a good ol’ boy from Virginia.
He had surfer, wind-blown hair, light brown with streaks of blond, and the face of a model.
Noah couldn’t say that Drew was his type, if he had one, but the guy wasn’t bad to stare at sometimes.
Probably would’ve given him a run for his money had Drew ever offered.
“Mingle,” Drew said, catching Noah’s attention. “Be polite. Everyone digs a military man.”
Noah rolled his eyes. Seemed like the minute he put on his dress blues, his status went up by ten—same with when he was a Ranger. He had women begging for a good time as long as he wore the uniform and called them ma’am. It was a bit...weird.
Obnoxious.
Pretentious, even.
Others were under the mistaken notion that Noah was something or someone important. He had a feeling if they knew what he really did in the Army and now with the SEALs, their opinion of him would diminish. “They only see the uniform, not all the shit that goes with it. Or the baggage from war.”
Drew grinned. “Give them the fantasy, Noah. Charm them. Give them a reason to throw their panties or briefs, whichever you prefer, at you.”
He chuckled. “You do that enough on your own, pretty boy. I can’t even keep up with all the dirty words you use.”
Drew shrugged. “Donnez-leur ce qu'ils veulent.”
Noah gave him a droll stare. “And that means?”
“Give them what they want,” Drew answered.
Yeah, sure, he could do that.
Noah went to a cooler filled with beers after Drew disappeared into the crowd and took one.
After twisting off the cap, he tossed it in the waste bucket, then meandered around the space.
The party wasn’t too loud, but enough to grate against his nerves.
Then again, it was a far cry better than listening to air raid sirens and the rip of tracer rounds for hours on end.
Or even hearing rocket launches as the defense systems protecting the base activated in the dark of night.
Seemed like forever ago now that he was back home.
As he made my way through the house, Noah eased past couples making out and those hurrying toward rooms. A small area for dancing or whatever the fuck they were doing took up a corner of the open layout living room that looked more like a game room.
He’d been them once upon a time. Now... He wouldn’t consider himself old, more like he appreciated his downtime.
Something at their age, he hadn’t quite grasped, yet.
It had taken years to get where Noah was comfortable in his skin. He also understood just how fucked up the world was behind the veneer of Hollywood. And what the saying, “sink or swim,” really meant.
Yep, at the ripe age of twenty-seven, he was officially getting old.
That’s what war did to a person, though.
Noah could have done his time, discharged, and gone back to school, but something about the job.
..his profession, he couldn’t give it up.
Noah felt like he had a calling. An instinct to protect on a grander scale than being in law enforcement or becoming an FBI or CIA agent could afford him.
God fucking knows, saying he was good at sniping might get him odd looks, too.
But he was. Best in his class, and he surpassed those in training, too.
Not to toot his own horn, but Noah had patience.
Lying in wait for his target? That was the real mission.
Taking the shot was three seconds. The waiting.
The scouting. Finding the right perch...
All those things combined were what being a sniper was all about.
Noah went into places that were too dangerous for others to go.
He disappeared into his surroundings, blending in so well, no one noticed him.
So being anything but what he was good at never sat right with him.
As he explored the house, taking sips of his beer as he went, Noah stumbled upon a room not far from the festivities.
The space reminded him of a study hall. There were a couple of desks and some bookshelves placed strategically around the room.
However, the layout wasn’t what caught his attention.
It was the guy sitting on the couch, reading a book with a bottle of water between his legs.
At his feet was a black satchel open, exposing a line of pens and pencils along with a notebook and a few other texts.
In his hand was a copy of Conquistador: Mansio Serra De Leguizamon and the Conquest of the Incas.
A total nerd book to be reading.
As Noah’s gaze traveled higher, his heart stuttered in his chest. A lightning bolt of recognition jolted him, and he almost dropped his beer.
The guy was handsome, but cute at the same time.
He had curly brown hair and wore glasses that gave hot teacher vibes.
His Chuck Taylor covered foot that balanced on his knee at the ankle, shook to a beat Noah couldn’t hear, as though he listened to music as he read. Or maybe a nervous habit?
Probably a habit.
Noah had also never been so damn jealous of a wool sweater vest or a button-down shirt, until that very moment.
Even his denim jeans fit him just right.
Everything about the guy screamed the opposite of Noah and his fatigues.
He was out of his league, but Noah just couldn’t walk away.
The guy sure as fuck deserved someone better than him.
Noah silently willed him to look up; to put those eyes on Noah so he could gaze into the man he knew in that moment was his.
Instead, he was content to sit there and read.
How he did so without being distracted by everything happening around him, Noah couldn’t say, but it also heightened his protective instincts, because all it took was one person with malicious thoughts to ruin the guy’s perfect tranquil bubble.
Nevertheless, Noah’s curiosity got the better of him.
He’d lingered there for so long, without the man’s awareness, that he finally decided to peel himself off the doorframe and at least say hello.
The one thing Noah never did was loom. He hated loomers.
Most did that shit for intimidation purposes.
Him? He sat down beside the guy, making his heart thump and his stomach clench with excitement.
Noah eased into a relaxed position, doing that fucking stupid manspread thing.
God, he was so cringe.
Every so often, he’d peek at the guy. Waiting for the right moment to introduce himself. This guy... He legitimately read four fucking long-ass chapters before Noah had worked up the courage to clear his throat and introduce myself.
“Hi, I—” Noah said, when the guy glanced in his direction. Noah’s mouth went dry. A wave of lust drenched him as the man beside him blinked those gorgeous dark-brown eyes flecked in golden ember at him. Even his lashes brushed the tops of his cheeks, and they had a natural curl to them.
He licked his bottom while giving Noah a wary once-over that slowly morphed into confusion. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?” Even his husky voice sent a thrill down Noah’s spine.
“We don’t,” Noah said, holding himself in place. “I was walking by, and I saw you reading.”
“And you decided to stay?” The guy cocked a brow.
“What can I say, I was intrigued,” he replied with a lift of his shoulder. “Names Noah Hanover.” He held out my hand.
The guy glanced between Noah’s hand and his face before shaking it. Warmth traveled up Noah’s arm and settled in his chest. “Mateo Aquino. I’m sorry,” he exhaled, “how did you find this place?”
Mateo... Even his name was fucking sexy.
“Was invited. Told this would be a rager, and I should come. I’m here with friends from the base.”
Mateo laughed. “It’s something tonight.”
Noah tapped the cover of the book he was reading. “This something you like to do while at a party, Mateo?”
“Stimulates my brain.” He closed the book, using his middle finger to hold his place while his expression became quite perturbed. “It was very nice meeting you, Noah.”