Page 92 of Echoes of Us

“Let me take you to bed,” I said against his lips.

I turned off the shower and handed him a towel. Hestrode towards the bed and sat down, the towel loose on his hips. He looked up at me apprehensively, almost as if he was waiting for me to question him. I reached for his bedside drawer, got the lube out, and let it fall on the bed without a word. He half-smiled, grabbing my hand and making me move over him as he crawled back on the bed. I reached for his towel, tugging it open and resting my weight between his legs. I ran my hand over his leg, pressing it closer to me while kissing down his neck.

Noah reached for my hair as always and arched to my touch, his body responding eagerly. “Atty,” he breathed.

I moved to look down at his face. His eyes always drew me in. I knew I couldn’t say no to him, especially now that he needed me to feel better. I kissed him again. And again. And again.

I missed all my classes that day, and we barely left the bed.

When we got to the clubhouse, Noah was tucked close to me, his thumb in my pocket and my arm over his shoulders. I saw Ezra’s weary look and Colin shaking his head. I didn’t care. If this was what he needed now, I would make sure he had it. I would make him feel safe as long as he wanted.

Thursday after practice, we walked home hand in hand. As soon as we stepped in, Noah was on me, his need for affection immediate. I wasn’t the least bit surprised. I was getting used to his constant need for touch. It almost felt wrong being around people and not having him like this. He had been getting better, or at least he was back to his usual self—smiling, laughing, and talking. The only noticeable difference was that he didn’t move away from me. He had even come to a couple of my classes, sitting beside me while holding my hand under the table.

During practice, Noah would gravitate towards mewhenever there was a lull. He tucked himself under my arm or wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. At first, I was self-conscious about it, but as the week progressed, I got used to it. I began extending my hand before he moved towards me. Today, I stood waiting for him and turned when I didn’t feel him reaching for me. Colin had held him back, and I saw them talking away from the rest. Colin had his back to me, but I could see Noah’s face. He was serious, nodding occasionally but not saying much. Noah ended the conversation with a shrug and made his way over to me. I looked at Colin again and saw his frowning face. He glanced at me and then away.

“What was that about?”

“Opinions.” He didn’t elaborate.

As a result, he was in a difficult mood, and when we got home, he was on me in an instant. I didn’t push him back. I let him drag me to the couch and climb over me.

“Aren’t you tired of me?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur.

I smiled, shaking my head. “I could never get tired of you.”

“I don’t think I could ever tire of you either, Atty. You know I’ve liked you since the day we met? That had never happened to me before,” he confessed.

“Seriously?”

“When Colin introduced us, I was so attracted to you. I’ve never been this into a guy.”

“But you’ve been with guys. Isn’t it like fifty-fifty for you?”

“Not really. It’s more like ten-ninety. It’s not the rule; it’s the exception.”

“Really?”

He hummed agreeably. “You’re the first boyfriend I’ve had.”

“But you’ve had sex with guys before.”

“Yeah, I have, but I wasn’t serious about them. It was more of a physical curiosity,” Noah said, smiling.

I stared at him, trying to work up the courage to ask him about it, and saw his smile widen even more.

“Come on, ask me,” he prompted, lightly jumping on my lap and pulling on my shirt collar.

I hated how well he could read me at times like this.

“You’ve bottomed before? You’re into that?” I felt embarrassed as the words left my mouth.

“Yeah, I have. I’m into it.” Noah leaned down to kiss the side of my lips. “I’m really into it with you,” he whispered in my ear.

A shiver ran down to my groin. “But you don’t want to? I mean, if you’re mostly straight…”

Noah was more than a little bemused by that assumption. “I’m not straight, Atty. I think that’s pretty fucking clear.”

“You know what I mean,” I grumbled.

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