Page 10 of Noah

"Oh." Kyle broke the moment and moved away from me. "I like her."

I looked up to see Jamal in the doorway, clinging to the arms of his wheelchair. I could see the tears glistening in his eyes. Kyle touched both our hearts today.

Liam and I finished up behind the bar at our usual time for a Sunday. The same table in the back of the pub we'd been gathering at for the past four years sat with a reserved sign on it.

Sunday was the weekly meeting of the Salish Sea Society; a group we had formed in high school to support one another. I'd been friends with Liam first and then Ethan had infiltrated our friendship. Owen had come along a month or so later, Ethan dragging him in.

When we'd discovered we were all gay, it solidified our group. We'd started our meetings in Ethan's basement once a week, his mom packing us full of cookies. Time passed and we'd continued the tradition for almost twenty years. The only difference was when we were in universities all over the country. Even then, though, we'd do a group video call to check in with each other. Owen was the first to arrive, giving us both a hug and lingering in our embrace.

"How's your week been, you two?" he asked once he released me.

"Steady," Liam replied while he went back behind the bar, ready to pour our drinks.

When we'd folded him into our little group in high school, we'd nicknamed Owen, The Sentimental because he believed in love and happily ever afters. Liam was The Lover because he was entirely fixated on hooking up with guys and had no interest in dating. Ethan was the Optimist because he has such a sunny disposition. And me … I'd acquired the nickname The Chivalrous because apparently, I always tried to save everyone. I didn't see it. I just liked to make sure my friends were happy and safe. Okay, so maybe I did try to save people a little bit.

I preferred the word protect.

There was only one of us missing: Ethan. The youngest of the four of us—by a few months. Still, we liked to tease him. He was the baby of the group and he'd had the healthiest relationships of all of us. Three long-term boyfriends over the past twenty years. He was currently single.

Ethan was an eternal spring of joy and optimism.

Speaking of the devil, Ethan erupted through the front door and bounded into a hug with Owen. After roughing up Owen's short auburn hair, he headed my way, a wide grin across his face.

"Noah!" Ethan clapped his hand down on my shoulder, then pulled me into a bear hug. He rocked me back and forth until I clung tighter to him, my face nestled against the scruffy, dark bristles on his neck. He wouldn't let me go until I matched his enthusiasm.

When he released me and pulled away, Ethan gripped my face in both hands and planted a wet kiss in the middle of my forehead.

I groaned in exasperation.

"The party has arrived!" Ethan leapt away from me and drummed on the bar top. "Barkeep!"

Liam smirked at Ethan as he stepped toward him. He leaned against the bar top, reached out, and gripped Ethan's outstretched arm while Ethan clamped down on his.

A short tug back and forth until they were both laughing. Liam could match Ethan on the sunny scale—on the outside anyway.

Outwardly, Liam was cocky and confident but inside, storms of self-doubt and insecurity roared. When I met Liam at the start of junior high school, he'd been awkward, overweight, and his face covered in acne. As an adult, he had achieved perfect skin, found a second home in the gym, lost the weight, his body muscular and sculpted, and he'd had some work done on his face. Top that in long blond hair …. And he was beautiful—just didn't believe it.

Owen joined them at the bar, wrapping his arm around Ethan's shoulders. He loved physical contact as much as Ethan. Ultimately, he wanted to find that one guy to cuddle with permanently.

Owen's desperate craving for a stable, loving relationship made me sad. Men never treated him well. Owen was looking for forever love. Instead, men tended to use him because he was quick to follow them into their beds; giving his body in hopes the intimacy would turn into more.

Right now, though—right now, we were together—having fun.

These guys. I would do anything for these guys.

Anything.

"Shots!" Ethan shouted as he bounced on his toes.

"Tequila!" Owen suggested with far too much exuberance. He must have had another one of his disastrous dates. It was the only time he was keen to drink something like tequila shots.

Liam poured four shots of our best tequila. We crowded closer to the bar, grabbed our drinks, and raised them. Ethan spoke. "To the best friends a guy could wish for!"

"And men who know how to give mind-blowing BJs!" Liam added.

I could drink to that, both sentiments. I threw back my shot.

"Pitcher of pale ale?" Liam asked the group.

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