Page 3 of Noah

I reached over and gripped Liam's arm. Sitting at one of the tables on our patio was a figure, the mist from his warm breath wafting above him like a thinning cumulous cloud.

It was dark. The only illumination was a few street lanterns reflected in the puddles surrounding the cobblestones and the dancing spots of light from a string of overhead bulbs.

I could barely make out the figure's features. The collar of his bulky coat was pulled up near his ears, and he had produced a toque, but there was no doubt, it was Brody.

"I think he's here for you," Liam said. "Do you want me to stick around?"

I patted Liam's shoulder. "No. Pretty sure he's harmless."

In two steps, Liam had me wrapped up in a hug. I clung to him, enjoying the familiar strength and grip of his hands, and the firmness of a chest I had fallen asleep on more than once—as a friend. Our relationship was entirely platonic. Close. I did love him—but not in a romantic way.

"Be careful," he whispered in my ear.

"Always. I'll call if he turns out to be an axe murderer."

As Liam puffed out a chuckle and walked away, Brody stood—without a word.

"Walk with me," I said and motioned in the direction I intended to go. The road led toward home but also a restaurant that stayed open late and served the best pie in town.

Brody jogged and caught up with me.

"Were you waiting for me?" Might as well start with the obvious question. Were you waiting for me? Are you a stalker? And are you planning on murdering me?

I was being dramatic. Brody was just a guy who seemed a little lost. Not sure what he wanted from me, but the memory of those sad eyes of his made me feel for him.

Maybe I could help him in some way.

"Yes." His voice was rushed like a hiss and barely registered above a whisper.

"Why?"

Brody stopped walking. "Sex."

Whoa. Direct much? I'd been propositioned by countless men in my life, but they usually pretended to get to know me a little before they shot me a dick pic and suggested we fuck.

This guy? Straight to the point.

I tugged his arm and got him walking again. "How do you know I even like men?"

"You flirt with them at the pub."

"Maybe that's just an act to get them to drink more."

Brody stopped again and turned to face me. "Did I get it wrong?"

I crossed my arms. To be honest, Brody was making me feel a little unsettled. I wasn't sure if it was my Spidey senses telling me to duck and run or if the guy simply intrigued me.

His brow furrowed as he stared at me with those sorrowful eyes.

"Do you like pie?" I asked.

Now his brow really screwed up. "As in vagina? No."

I laughed. "No, I'm talking pecan, lemon meringue, blueberry, pumpkin—"

"Are you gay, or aren't you?"

Sheesh. Chill for a second.

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