Authors: Cameron Dane
Christ.
Noah ached inside. He needed. So terribly. Now. “Forget it,” he suddenly said. “I changed my mind. I’m ready.” He took Ram’s hand and started to pull. “Let’s go fuck.”
Ram held Noah in place. “Go home, Noah. We’ll go out again one day.” Kissing Noah’s cheek, he added, “As friends.”
“Thank you.” His chest banding, Noah squeezed Ram’s hand. “You’ve been so much cooler with me than I deserve.”
“Go after the guy you really want,” Ram advised. “I can feel that someone already owns that part of you. Tell him. That’s the only way it’s gonna work for someone like you.”
Zane.
The mere thought of the man rushed sweet fire through Noah’s blood. Right on top of that, though, came the awareness of how inappropriate and wrong his attraction was. Noah dropped back to the couch. Elbows on his knees, face in his hands, he admitted, “It’s not that simple. He’s so much younger than me.” Piercing need he could not assuage stabbed Noah in the gut. Looking to Ram, sandpaper coated his confession. “But worse than that, he’s not gay.”
“Well, fuck.” With a stilted nod, Ram squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “Let me get you a drink.”
Grimacing, Noah responded, “Bring the bottle.”
Noah rarely drank, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten himself pissed-off-his-ass drunk. But at this point in his life, probably already half in love, and definitely in full lust for a man he couldn’t have, while his relationship with his parents had completely hit the skids, Noah figured he deserved one night of inebriation that would briefly let him forget his pain.
God knew it would be soon enough he would again have to work alongside the only man he wanted. As Noah downed his first shot of vodka, he began to question aloud his sanity in ever beginning a friendship with Zane in the first place.
Not to mention if there was any possible way he could sever the relationship without ripping away the only solid foundation Zane and his siblings had.
Chapter 9
From across the stretch of an opulent shower stall in a luxurious home—their newest worksite—Zane eyed Noah, and his heart grew sicker at the tiredness still dogging the man’s actions.
Stop thinking about it, damn it.
Zane couldn’t help it, though. His mind replayed the events of Sunday morning, as it had been doing on a loop for the last fifty-three hours straight…
* * * *
…Zane hustled his brother and sister into the kitchen, and for one of the few times, didn’t make them something hot for breakfast. They were all running late, and with Aunt Patty already on her way for a visit, Zane needed them fed and presentable by the time she arrived. He had one goal and one goal only for today: send Aunt Patty on her way with no more information about their current circumstances than when she arrived. Zane hated to ask his siblings to tell an outright lie, but he’d had to tell them that if Aunt Patty asked, Zane had moved them here by choice rather than necessity. The kids didn’t know anything about Clint and the money Zane still owed him—thank God—so he figured he was safe on that front. At least for now.
The doorbell gonged pleasantly through the cabin right then; Zane was very proud of the fact that he’d fixed it himself; he needed to remember to brag about that to Noah soon. He said to his brother and sister, “That’ll be Aunt Patty. Rinse out your dishes and put them in the sink before you come to say hello.”
Zane then rushed to the door. Before opening it, he took a breath, made a silent vow not to rise to any of Aunt Patty’s baits, and adjusted his clothing until he was certain he was as presentable as possible. Then swinging open the door, Zane plastered on a vibrant smile. “Aunt Patty.” The sight of such a plump, diminutive woman shouldn’t fill Zane with anxiety, but he couldn’t ignore the way his hands immediately started to perspire. “I hope your drive was smooth. It’s great to see you.”
“That bottom step is not secure.” Patty’s short, frost-tipped brown hair surrounded her face in a hair-sprayed halo. “I shouldn’t need to be the one to tell you that a child could step wrong and easily get hurt.”
The bottom step maybe,
maybe
creaked a bit, and was in no way, shape or form a hazard, but Zane replied with a smile, “I’ll be sure to fix it today while you’re out with Duncan and Hailey.”
Her lips compressing into a tight frown, Patty looked up at him with a cool glare. “You said you would have them ready for me at nine.”
Before Zane could open his mouth to reply, Duncan and Hailey emerged from the kitchen, practically spit-polished enough to make their cheeks shine. Patty lit up when she saw the kids. They ran past him to give her hugs too, which was only one of the reasons Zane never tried to fight against Patty’s desire to spend time with Duncan and Hailey. They loved her. And even though Zane hated that she wanted complete control—more than he would ever allow—she did love her niece and nephew very much.
“Have a nice day.” Pulling in his siblings, Zane gave them both a quick, abbreviated hug, and then lifted his focus to Patty. “If you can get them back by seven, I’ll have a great dinner ready.” Even she couldn’t dispute a wonderful, light vegetable lasagna, with homemade bread on the side. Making a point to hold eye contact, Zane added, “One I hope you’ll stay and enjoy with us.”
With a murmured, “We’ll see,” Patty hustled Duncan and Hailey to her car, along with an over-the-top excited explanation about her plans with them for the day. From what Zane could hear of them, much would involve poor Duncan having to grin and bear a day of activities that were a little too young for him. With her two sons already adults, Patty had forgotten what twelve-year-old boys liked versus what they merely tolerated.
Duncan would survive the day, though. Zane even chuckled, his step light as he traipsed down the stairs to double-check that bottom step. He wanted Patty to see he had not ignored her claim. As Zane waved them off, Noah pulled his truck to a stop on the opposite side of the lake, and Zane automatically lifted his arm to wave. When Noah took forever to emerge from the driver’s side, and then he didn’t even glance toward Zane’s cabin as he staggered to his front door—holding onto the rail as he pulled himself to the porch—Zane’s arm fell to his side, numb dead weight.
His date last night. He’s only now getting home.
Bullet-fast images of the hot, raw things Noah must have done last evening, things Zane remembered and wanted from that fantasy he’d created of riding the man to completion weeks ago, filled Zane’s mind and crushed tight pain in his chest.
He spent the night with another man.
If Noah had stayed away from his cabin all night, when Seth and Matt were there, Noah had to really like this Ramsay guy a lot.
As he should.
Zane forced himself to stand up straight and lean into the metaphorical blow.
It’s entirely his right.
His feet now dragging as if he wore bricks for sneakers, Zane went into the cabin to grab the toolbox, determined to be a supportive friend to Noah when next they worked together, even though he suspected this wicked pain inside him was what it must feel like to have a broken heart…
* * * *
…And all this morning, and even through lunch, Zane had done his best to act naturally around Noah. He’d even asked how the man’s date had gone, with a smile on his face and everything, as what he already knew of it made his insides burn with new feelings of jealousy. Noah had stiffened tighter than a plank of wood upon the question; with his response, Zane had found himself barely able to push words past the clog in his throat. Obviously Noah wasn’t comfortable talking about having sex with another man with Zane. He’d already openly stated that he never wanted to make Zane uncomfortable. He clearly didn’t want to say anything Zane might consider inappropriate, so Zane had let the subject drop.
Once again, though, Zane found himself looking to Noah. He studied the way the man’s thick muscles moved under his shirt as he grouted a wall of freshly laid tiles. This shower stall had to be as big as a small bedroom; for more reasons than that, though, Noah felt very far away.
Zane couldn’t even bring himself to share that Aunt Patty had stayed for dinner on Sunday. From the moment Zane had said hello to Noah this morning, he’d wanted to spill that everything had been so pleasant and had gone so well with his aunt that he’d wanted to climb onto his roof and whoop to the heavens. As Aunt Patty had driven away, Zane’s first thought had been to run to Noah’s place to blurt out his good news. But then a vision of Noah stumbling into his cabin in his clothes from his date clouded Zane’s vision, and he’d gone inside to quietly watch TV with his siblings instead.
Zane’s chest hurt, still, two days later, and he couldn’t stop his brain from creating pictures of this Ram person removing Noah’s shirt, of his hands running over Noah’s flesh, of his lips parting around Noah’s cock …
No!
Zane jerked and knocked his hand against a pile of precounted tiles stacked on a small workbench. The marble pieces toppled and two of them clattered to the floor and cracked into dozens of pieces.
“Shit.” Zane dropped to his knees and frantically started gathering the broken tiles. “I’m sorry.”
Stooping down too, Noah used a little broom to brush sharp pieces of the tiles from the plastic tarp. “It’s all right.” He dumped the shards into a bucket they used for trash. “That’s why we get extras.”
So close to Noah like this, Zane dropped his focus to the tarp. Heat reddened his face. “I’m such a klutzy spaz.”
“No you’re not.” Sympathy filled Noah’s words. When Zane lifted his gaze from the floor, the same soft emotions filled Noah’s dark eyes too. “Are you okay, though? You haven’t seemed like yourself today.”
Every second Zane kneeled so close to Noah like this, and every moment he couldn’t make himself look away, he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into the feelings this man had awakened in him—ones that at a certain point in his life he’d given up on ever experiencing with anyone. Yet today Zane had spent the day feeling as if Noah was building a wall between them, something Zane found he couldn’t bear. The distance pushed Zane to raw places he’d never gone before.
“Why won’t you talk to me about your date?” Zane blurted, his voice huskier than he’d ever heard it.
Pulling away, to his feet, Noah paled. “Zane…”
“I’m serious, Noah.” Zane got up and rounded the workbench, closing the distance Noah had created. “I know you didn’t come home until the morning. I saw it.” Words spilled from Zane’s mouth unchecked; he didn’t understand what place inside him provoked this perverse need to press at Noah about his date; he wouldn’t like hearing the details. His entire body felt as if it wanted to snap, but he couldn’t stop. “Maybe you don’t think I’m mature enough to handle what you did with Ram, but I am. I can take more than you think I can. Treat me like an adult you trust and respect, not a little kid.”
“Christ, Zane.” Noah went from ghost-white to ruddy-red, and his jaw started to clench with visible rigidity. “You’re way out of line with this.”
Desperation and newly found desires shoved their way through everything practical and sane inside Zane. “Just because I’ve never had sex doesn’t mean I can’t listen or talk to you about what you’ve done with another man.”
“Zane,” Noah cut in, his stare now flashing with nearly black fire. “Stop pushing me.”
“Why?” Blood rushed with ridiculous speed through Zane’s veins, and he’d never felt more alive than he did in this moment with Noah. “I was there for you with your father, and we’ve talked about your kids, and even your ex. I know so much about you, and I swear you know more about me than any other human being on this earth, yet you won’t even tell me a single thing about your dates with Ramsay.” Zane’s breath came heavily, making his chest heave, but he couldn’t lift a leg to move or walk away. “You won’t even tell me something as simple as whether or not you like Ram. But I already know that you must,” Zane’s throat burned with that knowledge, “because I saw you coming home Sunday morning, and you wouldn’t have spent the night with someone if you didn’t care about him very much. Or maybe—” Zane suddenly snapped his lips closed. The mere thought, what he’d almost spoken, ripped out Zane’s gut, and he had to stop.
But I have to know.
Forcing his head up, and sound into his voice, he said, “Or maybe you’re already in love with him, and that’s why you were with him all night.”
“Jesus, Zane.” Fiery as hell now, Noah bit off a bevy of colorful curses. Looking at Zane through a narrowed stare, he added in a clipped tone, “I didn’t fuck Ramsay. He didn’t fuck me. We didn’t fucking do anything! All right?”
Zane’s mouth gaped. He snapped it shut, but then parted his lips twice more before he could respond. “But…”
Noah’s nostrils flared, and he spat out, “But, nothing. We didn’t screw each other. We talked.” A grating chuckle escaped Noah. “Or rather, I drank and talked, and he listened.”
The air whooshed out of Zane’s lungs. “Oh.”
What?
Somehow this confession—Noah admitting that he’d opened up to someone else—stabbed through Zane worse than imagining him and Ram having sex. “If something was bothering you so much,” Zane hated the betrayal of his voice cracking, but God, he didn’t like this turn of events at all, “why wouldn’t you talk to me about it?”
Noah’s pupils shrank to pinpoints, and he reared. Spinning away, he grabbed one of his tools with jerky movements. “We have to get back to work.” More rust than normal coated his order.
More than Noah’s voice, the stiff lines of his back and the agitated way he tried to spread grout on the wall snaked into Zane’s system and guided him on pure instinct. “No, Noah.” This time, Zane didn’t fight the beckoning need to touch this man. He put his hand on Noah’s beautiful back, and it felt as if the man’s very essence sank into him through the firm, warm skin beneath the shirt. Zane moved his palm across the broad line of Noah’s shoulders, knowing from the way his skin came alive with first contact, he could never go back. With every confusing feeling for this man simmering at the surface, Zane waded even deeper into the heat. “I want to know why.”