Noah

It went beyond comfort, though. I had to suck it up and admit I was inexplicably drawn to him, no matter how fucking difficult it was. Spending my life avoiding complications would get me nowhere.

I wasn't sure I was capable of avoiding this one, anyway.

I pressed a smooch to his shoulder, wanting.

Fuck you, Dr. Kendall. Fuck you all the way off.

She'd poked and prodded with her mind-fucking, always curious, always wanting me to talk about Julian. This was why I had refused. I hadn't been ready to admit shit. But somehow, I was betting on her knowing, either way. She'd dropped it at "attraction," but she knew it was more.

I hadn't been blind. Well, maybe that too, but mostly it had been denial. Part of me still was in denial. But she—that sneaky bitch—wouldn’t have ranted about my family wanting us to be happy if she hadn't, on some level, known my fears.

Julian eased out of the hug, and he picked up his new pet.

I watched them, having nothing better to do. It was kinda cute, though. Julian didn't say anything, and I guessed it had something to do with his eyes being glassier than normal.

"You might wanna put the cat on a diet," I said. 'Cause she was sorta fat. All white, or beige-brown—whatever—and fluffy and fat.

"No way. She's perfect." Julian grinned as the cat licked its fur. "Ragdolls get big."

"Ragawhat, now?"

"Ragdoll. It's a breed—the only one I know, really. Our cat in Berlin was one," he murmured. She seemed to like him, if rubbing herself all over him was any indication. "Is she adopted?"

I nodded and scratched my beard.

"Makes sense she's a mixed breed, then. There're some faint stripes here. I love her." He stroked her belly, and she turned and twisted, wrapping her tail around his wrist. "Linda named our old one Fluffy." He grimaced, and I couldn’t blame him. "I'll think of something better for my new cuddle girl."

"Great, I'm jealous of a fucking cat." I rolled my eyes and stood up. "Come on. You and your girlfriend are invited to breakfast."

Julian chuckled and pulled on a pair of jeans. "Noah Collins jealous? Maybe hell has frozen over. What do you have to be jealous over?" He picked up the cat again and followed me out to the living room.

"I miss cuddling," I said with a shrug. Everything was set up on the table; I just needed a quick detour to the kitchen to get the coffee. "I'm a proud cuddle slut."

"I thought you had one of your million casual flings to cuddle with. Or that Summer woman." He sat down at the table and let the cat get familiar with the living room. "Damn, Noah. You didn't have to go through all this trouble. Did you buy everything I like?"

I ignored that, stuck on the Summer bit. "Summer?"

He nodded with a mouthful of donut. Of course, he'd go for the unhealthy crap first. I should've waited.

"I found her card in your jeans when I did laundry." He took another bite. "I've seen her name pop up on your phone a few times, too." He shot me a grin, though it looked strained. "I didn’t mean to pry, but I saw the preview of one message. She is apparently fond of your kissing skills."

That was…strange. I wasn't sure a kiss a few seconds long was enough to show off any skills, but all right.

"You'd know better than her." I shrugged and poured my coffee. "Here." I sat down and slid him the pot.

"I would?" Julian did that thing where he pretended to be too busy to look me in the eye. "I thought maybe it was serious."

He was fucking cute. Was he digging?

"Nope." I leaned back and sipped my coffee, and I had to admit I enjoyed this. It was dawning on me that I was fucked where Julian was concerned. I wanted him bad—which was a goddamn kick in the head—and that was my hell to deal with. My complicated mess. But that didn't mean I couldn’t draw some pleasure from Julian's old infatuation with me.

I assumed most of it had faded, with maybe enough attachment lingering not to be thrilled to see me with someone else.

That was how crushes worked, in my experience. From the Playboy models I'd gawked at as a teenager to the one-nighters I'd hooked up with all my life. I could be irrationally possessive at the oddest times if I were interested enough, though I let go quickly.

Usually.

Julian was an exception. It'd been a fucking year.

"We went out on one date. That’s it." I opened a container with a mixture of pineapple, strawberries, blueberries, and grapes. "She's not my type, I guess."

"Oh." Julian bobbed his head and nibbled on a bagel. "So anyway…" He cleared his throat. "What's the plan for today?"