Page 21 of Collide

“Aw, fuck. You’re with someone?” Wes asked.

Noah couldn’t look away from Cooper when he answered. “No.” His heart thundered, his hands fisted yet he didn’t know why. Noah forced himself to break eye contact with Coop, and looked at Wes. He owed him an explanation for whatever the hell his weirdness was. “He’s my roommate.”

Then he looked at Cooper again. “I didn’t think you’d be home tonight.”

He stood there for what felt like hours, studying Noah, before turning and walking up the stairs. Noah let out a heavy breath, his erection long gone. Too many thoughts crowded his brain, questions about Cooper’s reaction, and then guilt for whatever confusion this caused Wes.

When he looked at the other man, he was already grabbing his shirt. Noah closed his eyes and shook his head before saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was about.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Wes pulled the black T-shirt over his head.

I wish. “It’s not that. He’s straight. He just found out I’m gay, and this is the first time he’s seen me with someone. I’m guessing, it was harder for him to accept than he thought.”

Wes chuckled. “It would have been fun.”

“Yeah…yeah it would have. Maybe we still could—”

“No.”

Noah figured Wes was right. “Let me walk you out.” He followed Wes to his truck. When they got there, he leaned over in the seat, scribbled something on a piece of paper and then handed it to Noah.

“Depending on Chelle, I’ll be around for a while. Gimme a call if you ever want to have a drink again.”

The tone of Wes’s voice told him that’s all it would ever be. And he was okay with that. He liked the guy. He could hang out with him. “Thanks for understanding—not that I really have a clue what’s going on.”

Wes nodded.

“Take care of your sister. I hope she’s okay.”

Wes started the truck, and he was gone. Noah sighed, but didn’t have much time to try and figure out why in the fuck, Cooper had walked away from him because he heard the house door close. Coop walked around the side of the house with a woman, to where he assumed they’d parked.

Fuck. Maybe that was it. Coop had brought someone home, and Noah having someone there at the same time, made him uncomfortable.

Or maybe…he wished like hell, Wes could have been right.

***

“Are you okay?” Adrianna asked Cooper, as she climbed into her car.

No, he wasn’t. He really fucking wasn’t. “Yeah, I’m sorry tonight had to end before it really had the chance to get started. Something came up. I didn’t realize my roommate was bringing someone home.”

“No, it’s fine. I need to be home early tonight, anyway. I’m just worried about you. You were white as a ghost when you came upstairs.”

That’s because I saw my friend with another man. Saw them together and wanted… “Rain check?” he asked.

“If you’re lucky,” Adrianna winked, started the car, and drove away.

Part of him wanted to stay out here all night but he forced himself inside. He couldn’t look at Noah when he closed the door, but rather, started pacing the living room. His muscles hurt they were so tense. His heart pounded harder than he ever remembered it beating before.

And his brain? Fuck, he wanted nothing but to turn the thing off. To turn anything off inside himself that could think, feel…or become aroused.

“What’s wrong, man? You’re scaring the hell out of me.” Noah leaned against the living room wall, his arms crossed. Cooper groaned, wishing like hell he didn’t look at the man. Didn’t see concern in his eyes. His hair tousled from the hands that had been running through it. Wished like hell he would put on a shirt.

“Fuck!” Cooper punched the wall. Pain shot through his hand and up his arm, but he didn’t care. He wanted more of it to help him block the thoughts he tried to evict from inside him.

“Christ,” Noah hissed. “Talk to me. What happened? Did it freak you out that I brought someone home? Did it make you more uncomfortable than you thought it would?”

Yeah. Only not in the way he expected. Cooper actually felt like he could cry. Scream. He didn’t understand anything going on, and he wanted nothing more than to set fire to the thoughts. Burn them into ash so they could never form in his brain again. A dream was one thing but this? This was… “What the fuck’s wrong with me? There’s something wrong with me.”

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