Page 39 of Untamed Instincts

“I know I owe you an explanation.” Noah sighed. “It was wrong of me to dump that on you and then bounce.”

It was surprising Harris wasn’t already giving Noah a piece of his mind, especially after what he’d revealed to his best friend and then taken off with what looked like a gang of bikers.

“Well, I am miffed,” Harris replied coolly. “How long have we known each other? And then you pull a stunt like that on me? Consider yourself lucky I even answered the phone.”

Noah frowned. Damn, his best friend was seriously pissed to say something like that. Harris always spoke his mind, but he’d never been bitchy before.

What was he even talking about? Clearly Harris wanted to talk to him, or he wouldn’t have called so many times last night.

“I promise to make it up to you.” Noah ran a hand through his hair.

“You can make it up to me by joining me for breakfast,” Harris said pointedly. “My treat, though it should be yours since you’re the one who has to make up for basically using me.”

Noah pulled his phone away from his ear, frowning as he glanced at the screen. He’d called the right number, but Harris wasn’t acting like himself. They’d never, not once, kept score or accused the other of “using” them.

How many times had Harris been dating some girl and called Noah with a crisis, only to hang up without telling him what was going on? More than a dozen.

Was Harris really that angry at him? Noah sat there biting his nail, uncertain breakfast would fix this. He’d never seen or heard Harris so hostile before.

The guy would normally act catty, groan, or chastise, but he was acting downright pissed off over something he’d done himself in the past.

“So now you’re going to ignore me?” Harris huffed.

Another thing his best friend wouldn’t do. There were times when they’d hung out on the phone, both too lazy to drive to the other’s house, so they’d pretty much left their phones on speaker as they puttered around the house and talk, many times falling silent for a long stretch of time.

“I’m not ignoring you,” Noah gently argued. “I’m thinking.”

He was trying his best to recall if Harris had ever behaved this way before. Honestly, twenty years was a long time, and an incident or two might have slipped his mind.

Though Noah was pretty sure he would recall his best friend acting like a dick to him. They’d had plenty of arguments in the past. No one with a two-decade friendship escaped them. But they usually resorted to name-calling—sometimes it was effective, as long as you didn’t cross a line—then someone would crack up at a stupid name and the argument would be over.

After racking his brain, Noah thought the closest they’d come to a really heated argument was five years ago when Harris had had a pregnancy scare.

Noah had read him the riot act for not using protection. The two had ended up in a verbal slapping match then stolen some of Harris’s dad’s beer. They’d gotten wasted and were sick to their guts the next day.

That night Noah had learned not to drink copious amounts of inexpensive beer—the kind that never went on sale because it was already the rock-bottom cheapest.

“What is there to think about, Noah?” Harris asked angrily. “It’s a simple yes or no invite.”

“I get you being upset with me.” Noah stood and stormed back to Quinton’s bedroom. “But that’s not an excuse to act like snot for brains.” He walked into the bedroom, forcing himself not to slam the door.

Quinton was awake, lying there with a sheet draped partially over his lap, a sexy hipbone showing. For a moment Noah forgot he was in the middle of the worst argument he’d ever had with his best friend.

Now all he could think about was crawling onto his mate’s lap and bouncing on his fat cock until his brain was rattled.

“Oh, that’s so mature,” Harris shot back. “Name-calling? Grow up, Noah.”

Before he said something he was sure he’d regret, Noah hung up.

“Is everything okay?” Quinton sat up, the sheet slipping farther off his mate’s lap but not enough to reveal his cock.

Noah had to blink several times to reboot his brain and clear away all the smut circling his thoughts.

“It’s Harris. I guess me taking off with your sons and their friends pushed him over the edge.” He shrugged. “He invited me to breakfast, but who in their right mind wants to be bitched out over their pancakes and sausage?”

His phone beeped. A voicemail. Jesus. Just how many calls had he missed yesterday? Noah’s phone had decided to blow up on the one evening he was finally getting laid.

“Hey, Noah. It’s Layne.” Noah only listened to a small part of the message, starting it over so Quinton could hear it as well.

---