by Jet Mykles
Noble hated this, hurting Foxy. But he wasn’t going to let either of them hurt more by trying to deny the truth. “Yeah.”
Foxy nodded shortly. He took a deep breath, then shut his eyes as he slowly let it out. When it was done, he opened his eyes to face Noble. Raw pain and longing was there for him to see—surely on purpose, since Foxy was a good enough actor to hide it if he wanted to. “Can I at least kiss you good-bye?”
Noble had pushed away from the wall before he was conscious of doing so. His arms came up as he approached. “Yes.” He let his own anguish show. No sense in letting Foxy think he was alone in hurting.
The kiss was awful and wonderful, soft and careful. Foxy sighed into him, hugging him close, and he let his arms tighten around Foxy’s neck as he sucked on Foxy’s tongue. Noble took what he needed out of the kiss because it was a painful ending for him too.
It was Foxy who pulled away. Much of the tension was gone from his face, leaving behind only sadness. “Bye, Noble.”
Noble lowered his arms, amazed at how hard it was to do so. “Bye, Foxy.” I’m sorry.
Foxy’s lips parted as though he’d say more. Noble willed him not to. As if he heard, Foxy snapped his mouth shut and turned away. He shouldered his backpack and pulled up his hood as he went through the back door. Noble stood where he was, heard the car door, heard the engine, heard the gate opening. He didn’t move until the sound of the gate closing completed.
He dialed the phone. “He’s gone.”
“You okay?”
“No.” To his horror, his voice broke. His eyes burned. His heart hurt. What was up with that?
“Shit. Noble?” Lance sounded worried. For him. That wouldn’t do.
Noble rubbed at his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m not. But I will be.”
“You need me to come over?”
“No.” But then… “Yes.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
* * * *
Lance came, but there wasn’t much talking. Noble actually fucking cried, let Lance gather him into a hug and sit him on the couch. He was horrified to find himself sobbing on his best friend’s shoulder like some girl in a romantic movie.
“Shit.” He pushed away from Lance and blew his nose on the tissue the other man presented to him. “Fuck.” Sitting forward, elbows on knees, he rubbed at his heart. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Want me to say it?”
Noble stared at the blank television screen. “Yes.”
“I think you’re in love.”
“That’s stupid.”
“But true.”
The fight went out of him. Hearing Lance say it made it real. Noble hung his head. “Shit.”
Lance sat forward beside him, rubbing his back. “Is it a lost cause?”
“Yeah.” Noble wiped his nose. “I mean…” He sighed. “Shit. Yeah.”
“He said he’d come out for you.”
“Ha. Yeah. That’d be fun, huh?”
“Hey, if you want to be together…”
“Why would I want to be with a guy who can’t even be honest about who he is?” Noble stood.
“Because you love him?”
“Right.” Noble opened the blinds over the window facing the front yard, opened them wide. If he could have, he would have opened the window. “Lot of good that does me.”
“Don’t write it off yet. You never know what he’ll do.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” He spun to face Lance, the sun behind him lightening the room. Had it been so muted for the past few days? Had he been living in a dream? “How the hell could someone like me ever make it work with a guy who can’t admit that he’s gay?”
Lance watched him calmly. “Did he deny it to you?”
“No. Kind of hard to deny it when I’ve had my dick in his ass.”
Lance’s eyebrows rose marginally, and Noble let him imagine that Noble had done most of the topping. “Did you talk about his situation?”
“Some.”
“And?”
“And if I’m going to be with anyone, he has to be proud of what he is. I’m not going to be with someone who hides it, for whatever reason.” Noble ran a hand through his hair. A lock fell forward, and he fingered it. He needed to get a new dye job, like, yesterday.
“So even if he came out…?”
“It’s his problem. Not mine. I was kidding myself the last few days.” Reaching up, Noble pulled the long tail of his hair back. “Let’s go back to your place.”
“You sure? We got time.”
“I’m sure.” He started for the stairs. “I’m gonna change. Then I need to get the fuck out of this place.”
Chapter Ten
When he was in the groove, Noble didn’t have a care in the world. He hardly thought at all. It was just him, his sticks, his drum kit. Alone in the studio, he closed his eyes and let his instrument play him. No one else to pay attention to, no melody to underline, just him and raw beats filling the soundproof room.
Having completely lost track of time, he wasn’t surprised to see that three hours had passed since he’d shut himself alone in the room. His arms were sore, and sweat plastered loose hair to his head. It felt good. Damn good. But as soon as he stopped, reality poured back in, and thoughts of Foxy filled his head. It’d been three days since Foxy had left, the same since Noble had heard from the man. Usually the one who pushed beyond the pettiness of hurt feelings, Noble hadn’t bridged the gap between them, chickening out each time he pulled out his phone to call or text the one person who was constantly in his thoughts.
Coward, he called himself for the millionth time as he made his way to the studio’s bathroom. He gave himself what for as he pulled clothes out of the duffel he’d brought, then made use of the shower. After the first day, Gordon had made a call to Brent and rented the studio space for the rest of the month. Although Gordon said it was for the rest of the band as well, Noble didn’t see him call Rabin or Danny to let them know it was available. Noble would have called him on it, but he chose not to. Instead he made use of the special treatment and took advantage of the time to be alone. It was good for him, or so he told himself.
All clean, all alone, Noble stared at the screen of his phone. Even with his extended solo session, it was only two o’clock on a Monday afternoon. He’d never in his life had so much trouble filling his time. Of course, he usually wasn’t trying to avoid thinking about someone. It hadn’t even been this hard when he’d convinced himself that he wasn’t in love with Lance oh-so-many years ago. Compared to this, that’d been child’s play. He’d never been in love with Lance, not like this.
He did love Lance. He wasn’t even sure Lance was aware of how much he’d helped Noble in a really rough time. Finding a place with The Might had not been nearly as crucial in Noble’s life as finding a true, best friend. On his own in New York, this country boy had hit a streak of luck. If not for Lance and The Might, his life would have spiraled into oblivion. That was the darkest time in his life, and he’d vowed then never to go back to that. Thus the carefree, ever-friendly Noble had been born, and he hadn’t looked back. With Lance always there as a lodestone, Noble had easily resisted temptations. His life was so much better for it.
But now, as much as Lance wanted to, he couldn’t help Noble. He’d tried. In just a few days, Noble had done his share of whining and crying, and Lance and Gordon had seen him through it. Their now solid relationship served as a balm to help calm him. It was good to see them as a couple. But it could only go so far. While he was over the moon that Lance was finally happy with Gordon, seeing them together made Noble want the same for himself. With Foxy. Always with Foxy.
So although he had a standing invitation to stay with his friends, as well as a new text from Lance inviting him back for dinner, Noble decided he wouldn’t go. He needed to get his head straight, not hide at their place. He texted that he wasn’t coming, then scrolled through his contacts for t
he number of the hairdresser he’d found in Chicago. What luck, she was free for the next few hours. Time to get his hair redone.
* * * *
“I like the hair.”
Smiling, Noble reached up to run his fingers through all that remained of the hair from his mohawk. It was still about two inches long in a wide swath on top from his hairline just to the back of his scalp, but now it blended into a shorter but allowed-to-grow section that covered the right side of his head. The left side was cleanly shaven. “Thanks.”
“But I thought you were into colors. Why black?”
“It’s not black.” Noble rubbed a lock between thumb and forefinger. “It’s a really dark blue. Just looks black in this light.”
Glen leaned close, pretending to get a good look. Really, he was just edging closer to Noble. They were seated at the bar in a terrific Italian restaurant. The furnishings were all dark wood accented with red and gold, and the air was redolent with garlic and spice. The man beside him was the sommelier of the place and had recommended the wine that was going to Noble’s head. Noble knew little about wine, but he did like the muzzy feeling clouding his thoughts.
“Mmm.” Glen didn’t quite nuzzle Noble’s neck, but he managed to suggest that he was thinking the action. Noble wondered if he held back because he was technically at work, or if he wasn’t out of the closet. Which made Noble think about Foxy, which killed a little of the buzz. Which also meant he didn’t lean into the man to encourage him. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Noble lifted his glass to drink, using the moment to try and remember what Glen was talking about. Oh, right, his hair. Three hours at the salon had killed much of Noble’s day and given him time to convince himself to go out instead of going back to Lance and Gordon’s. He needed a little time. Just…he wasn’t so keen on time to himself. He’d been to the restaurant before and knew the bartender from other circles. Juan had introduced him to Glen soon after arriving. Now the plate of gnocchi he’d ordered was nearly empty, and the sommelier was clearly offering company for the remainder of the night. All Noble had to do was ask what time the man got off work. But he didn’t want to. He’d been trying for much of the last hour to want it, but it just wasn’t happening. The thought of screwing this guy was a pleasant contemplation and nothing more.
Sure now that he didn’t want the man, Noble backed off. With a twist and a smile, he put some air between them and locked gazes with Glen. Not going to happen, he said with his eyes. “Thanks for the tip on the wine. Can I buy a bottle?”
Not all guys got it. Some deliberately misunderstood the rejection and kept trying. But Noble saw Glen accept it as he backed up a step himself. “We don’t sell the bottles here, but let me write it down.” Facing the bar, he reached inside his jacket to pull out a billfold. He wrote on the back of a business card, then held the card out to Noble. “That’s the name of the wine. The number’s for a private merchant I know. Use my name, and he’ll take good care of you.”
Noble took the card and put it down next to his empty plate without looking at it. “Thanks.”
“And feel free to call me anytime.” Glen stared at him a moment, seeing if he’d change his mind.
“Thanks.” Noble just smiled and extended his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Releasing Noble’s hand, Glen tapped the card. “Anytime.”
Noble nodded, then watched him walk off.
“Not your type?”
He looked up at Juan, the bartender. Short and plump, with an easy smile. “Not right now.”
Juan’s dark eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t gay—divorced with three kids and working on his next bride—but his brother was, and it was the brother who’d introduced them. “Not something I’ve heard from you before.”
“Not something I say often.”
In a time-honored bartender move, Juan whipped out a white towel to wipe down the already spotless surface of the bar. “There’s a couple guys here I could hook you up with.”
“Nah. Thanks.” Noble tapped his empty plate. “I’ll just pay for this and go.”
He felt weird. He should have taken Glen home. He should have invited a friend or two to dinner with him, with the plan to take at least one of them home. He should have gone to a club instead of coming to a relatively quiet restaurant. He should be getting his life back on track.
He shouldn’t be missing Foxy.
After paying his bill, he thanked Juan, then left. Muggy air hit him outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started down the busy avenue toward…toward where? He didn’t want to be alone. He never did. But most of his accustomed methods of finding company all seemed to end with sex or the possibility of sex, and he just didn’t want it. Not from anyone who was readily available.
Frustrated, at a loss, he took out his phone and dialed Danny.
“Hey, Noble.” That wasn’t Danny’s voice.
“Oh. Hey, Cash. Did I get Danny’s number wrong?”
“Nope. This’s his phone. He’s in the shower. What’s up?”
Although he knew Danny’s boyfriend, he hadn’t gotten to know him well. Suddenly Noble wanted to rectify that. “What are you guys up to tonight?”
“I’m doing some work. Not sure what Danny’s up to. Want me to ask him?”
“No. Mind if I come over?”
“Sure. I’ll tell him you’re on your way.”
“Cool.”
Cash. Such a sweet, clueless boy. No, not entirely clueless, just about some things. Put a computer in front of him, and he was the smartest guy Noble had ever known, hands down. Start talking about sex, and those big brown eyes opened wide in ignorance. But Cash was learning. Danny made sure of that. On the way over, Noble wondered if it was a good idea to spend time with another happy couple, but he actually took heart in it. Lance and Gordon, they were working. Danny and Cash were new but solid. Rabin and Izzy acted like they’d been a couple for ages instead of just over a year. Happy couples enjoying each other. If Noble couldn’t have that for himself, he’d soak in his friends’ joy.
Did he want it? He thought about it seriously after he’d flagged down a cab. If Foxy wasn’t in the closet, would he even want something like that with him? Noble had only ever contemplated a serious relationship three other times in his life. Once as a wide-eyed teen who’d just discovered the joys of men. Once in his early days in New York. Then, once with Lance. Since Lance, no one had come close to capturing his heart. He’d become sure that a relationship just wasn’t in the cards for him. But then came Foxy. A few days alone with him had Noble’s emotional life upside down. They’d been comfortable together. That was the scary part. Talking with Foxy had been easy, fun. There had been no awkward pauses. Their beliefs and joys weren’t the same, but they hadn’t clashed either. Waking up with Foxy had felt good, had felt normal. Noble could easily see himself waking like that every morning. And if they were in different states, well, hadn’t they already proved they were pretty good at keeping touch long-distance?
So, did he want it? Sure. If Foxy didn’t have problems, would Noble have pursued it? Maybe. But Foxy did, so the point was moot.
Noble reached his destination and paid the cab driver. Danny had moved into Cash’s new apartment just a week or so before the Knights had left on the tour. It was a big, fancy complex that suggested inhabitation by people who might not be rich but certainly weren’t poor. Noble called up so Danny could buzz him through the front gate, then took the elevator to the right floor.
“Hey, you,” Danny greeted, opening the door for him. Dark-rooted platinum-dyed hair was pulled back in a wet tail, and he was bare-chested, wearing shiny black-and-red basketball shorts. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at some club somewhere?”
There was more furniture than when Noble had been there last, and the cream-colored walls were now occupied by some of the art pieces Danny had picked out in Europe. The forty-inch television was on, and a laptop was open on
the coffee table in front of a tan microsuede couch. There was even patio furniture on the balcony past the glass doors. Noble tried to decide if his surroundings felt more like Cash or more like Danny and was pleased to decide that it felt like them.
“I could ask you the same,” Noble replied, setting his duffel by the door. “I was at the studio.”
“All day?”
Noble shrugged. “Got my hair done.”
“I see that.” Danny checked out the back, nodded. “Nice. Did you eat?” Danny led the way toward the kitchen.
“Just did.”
“Want a drink?”
Noble stopped in the door of the kitchen, then glanced behind him. “Where’s Cash?”
Danny snorted as he opened the refrigerator. “Is that a real question?” It was said with mock exasperation behind a very fond smile.
“Ah. At the computer?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Putting his back to Danny, Noble headed for the hallway. “I need to ask him something.”
Aware Danny was following him, Noble headed right into Cash’s sanctuary. It was remarkably clean, especially given the wall of bookshelves stuffed to bursting with comics and colorful paraphernalia. The keyboard master himself sat staring at the middle of three monitors perched across a broad desk. He wore a faded orange tank top that revealed pale, slim arms. His dishwater-blond hair barely covered his ears and didn’t cover his neck, which was long and oh so tempting to kiss. Or so Danny had assured him. Thick-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose, and Noble couldn’t be sure Cash was even reading what he was typing as his fingers flew over the keys.
“What ho, Cassius.”
A jerk of Cash’s chin made Noble aware that Cash had heard him, so he waited patiently for the man to finish typing. Then Cash blinked myopically from behind his glasses and raised his head. Recognizing Noble, he smiled big, which warmed Noble’s heart. “Hey, Noble.”
“Heya, cutie.” Charmed, Noble crossed the room to plant a kiss on the top of Cash’s head and muss his hair. Soft. Yes, Danny’s fingers had to love that. “I have a favor to ask you.”
