Torch (Unbreakable Bonds 3)

Rowe growled and leaned forward. “What’s with the cryptic responses, man? Does he have the looks that normally turn your crank or what? You go for that slender, pretty sort?”

“My crank,” Noah muttered with a low laugh as he brushed the curls out of his face. “I don’t have a specific type, Rowe. I’ve been with different types of men. Chemistry happens.”

Rowe nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” He laughed, but it sounded kind of strangled like his voice had to be forced through a tight knot. “You saw some of the women I hooked up with in the past.”

“I did. Some I didn’t get at all because your type seemed all over the place.” Noah snorted. “Not that I got any of them. I’ve never found myself attracted to any woman, so I’m not the best judge.”

“Never? I can’t believe we never talked about this. Not once?”

He shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh at Rowe’s incredulous tone. Of course, Noah had worked hard to hide his sexuality from Rowe until the final few months of their time together in the Army. It just seemed like the safer choice. He’d had bad experiences sharing his orientation before and well, Rowe meant more than all his other friends combined, so he’d held his truth to his chest. “I tried, especially in high school. But they never really worked for me.”

“Why’d you try? If you knew you were gay?”

“You really need to ask with all the time you’ve spent with your friends? We’re still not accepted, still looked down on by quite a huge section of the population. Hell, some seem to think homosexual and pedophile are synonyms.” Noah growled. “Remember when you were a teen? You wanted so badly to just fit in. All your friends were scheming their way into the girls’ locker room and you were spending every second thinking of the most disgusting things you could imagine to keep from popping wood in the boys’.”

Rowe grinned. “Did you?”

“What? Pop wood? All the fucking time.” He picked at the torn label on his water and managed to keep from admitting he had popped some not too long ago. In the backyard. When Rowe had bent over and those pajamas had framed his taut ass. Rowe had the tightest, most perfectly round ass. He’d been reminded of all those years in the Army when he’d ducked into bathrooms or turned in early just to jerk off after Rowe had inadvertently revved him up.

“Did you have a boyfriend in high school?”

Noah shook his head. “Nah. But there was this one guy when I was a senior. Fuck, I wanted him. Sophomore and with that damned September birthday, I’d hit eighteen already, so he was a big no-no. But he was so beautiful and he had this shy way of looking at me. Tortured me the entire year.”

“I knew plenty of guys who dated younger girls in school. He had to have been what, sixteen?”

“Something like that. It was dangerous for guys over eighteen to date younger girls. I even knew one who angered the parents enough for them to bring him up on statutory charges. But to be a gay eighteen-year-old still in high school in Alabama? Dangerous doesn’t come close to an accurate description.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way.” Rowe shrugged, his eyes on his own bottle of water. “So you never even got a kiss, eh?”

Noah grinned. “Can’t say that. Damn kid cornered me behind a row of porta potties after a football game. Luckily, it was dark and most everyone had already left.”

“He laid in wait to make his move? Brave guy.”

Nodding, Noah lifted his head to drink some water. “Kid kissed like a fucking dream.”

Rowe barked out a laugh, startling Daisy, who barked in return. He leaned over and patted her head. He was quiet for a few minutes after that.

Noah closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet, the warmth of Igor against him. Maybe he’d get a dog whenever he figured out what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

“Noah?”

He looked at his friend again.

“About Ian. He’s…well, he’s not really the type you hook up with. That’s not really his thing.”

Noah didn’t say anything, just waited to see where this was going. Was Rowe warning him away from his friend? Granted, the young man was sexy as hell, but if Noah had answered Rowe with complete honesty, he would have had to say his type was a lot more…Rowe. But he had liked Ian and if he wasn’t so wrapped up in hope with this one, they could have had some fun.

“It’s just that Ian needs—” Rowe cleared his throat and shifted, obviously uncomfortable. He stood up and paced around the coffee table, the frown tightening on his face until concern formed in an uncomfortable knot in Noah’s stomach.