Page 3 of Saving Noah

Clearly getting excited about what he hoped to be some naughty details coming his way, Connor moved his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the couch and said, “You keep hinting at something illicit, Zach. It’s just us girls now. Go ahead and say what you’ve been dancing around ever since that slice of hotness joined us in the hall. I damned well hope there’s a reason for treating him like shit, because that’s exactly what you did.”

“For fuck’s sake, Connor,” Zachary exploded. “I thought cops were supposed to notice details, look for crimes, or be able to determine a criminal from a law-abiding citizen. Didn’t you receive any training at the academy?”

Zachary wasn’t having any luck getting Connor riled up. Instead, his friend grinned slowly and said, “Nah, I must’ve skipped the be-mean-to-hot-neighbor day during my training. What’s up? Go ahead, spill it. Reveal his deep, dark secrets, so I’ll have something really wicked to jack off to tonight.”

“He’s a prostitute, Connor! Surely you could see that. Anybody could see that. I knew it right away,” Zachary bragged and then his mood darkened again as he imagined beautiful John selling his body to the highest bidder.

Connor stared at him for a few seconds and then leaned over to set his empty beer bottle on the edge of the coffee table—right next to the tile coaster. “A prostitute, eh? What makes you think that?”

Zachary rolled his eyes, but as his evidence rolled around in his head, he didn’t have many cold, hard facts to back up his beliefs. What he did have was all circumstantial shit, but he was in too deep to keep his beliefs to himself.

“Well, let me see,” he said in his most sarcastic voice. “There’s the fact that he entertains a different group of men every other Friday of the month. His guests always wear trashy costumes, a lot like what John wore tonight. The only repeat visitor always carries a huge duffel bag that he probably hauls sex toys in. That’s probably his pimp. Yeah, I bet he sets the dates up and then sticks around to make sure he gets his cut of the earnings.”

“You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, Doc? Maybe you took some police training yourself? Is that what you were doing when I thought you were studying anatomy in med school? Taking Spotting a Prostitute 101?”

“Now who’s being the asshole?” Zachary asked as he got up to grab himself another beer. Connor might not need the extra suds to make him forget how fucking hot John looked in that rhinestone dog collar, but Zachary sure the fuck did. He went ahead and grabbed two bottles while he was up. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to help him forget how wickedly delicious John had looked tonight. Anything short of brainwashing would result in failure. He dropped back down on the couch and waited for Connor to explain how John couldn’t possibly be a hooker. Oh, it was coming. He’d seen that look on Connor’s face many times.

“Okay, maybe he’s a prostitute,” Connor said thoughtfully. “I doubt it, but maybe. I guess.” He shrugged.

“Go ahead, asshole. Tell me why you think I’m wrong. I mean, you were around him for all of five minutes at the most, but you’re clearly the John expert between the two of us.”

“Okay, first of all, he doesn’t have thelookof a person forced to sell his body for survival…or drugs.” He frowned at Zachary. “It’s usually for drugs. Trust me on this one, Doc, that body is not on street drugs, recreational drugs, or any other kind of illegal drug up for sale these days. Well, not unless he’s in the very early stages of drug abuse. Twink-boy looked damn fine from where I stood.”

“Just stop it, Connor. We both know John isn’t the type of man you go for. He’s more of what I usually find attractive.”

Connor laughed. “I know. I just needed to make sureyouremembered. For some unknown reason, you seem to have forgotten what gets you all hot and bothered.” His grin was playful and antagonizing at the same time. “Okay, back to Hookersville. Secondly, hookers don’t usually bring tricks to their apartment. That’s just not how it works.” He shook his head at Zachary. “And their pimps don’t carry a goodie bag for them. No, I think you’re off base.”

Zachary rolled his eyes. “Then what was he doing? Did you see how he dressed? He had a rhinestone dog collar around his neck, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know, and it looked fucking hot, Doc. People do shit like that and there’s nothing wrong with it. Stop being such a Republican. It isn’t attractive on you.”

“Is it time for you to go home yet?” Zachary asked. “I’m ready for you to go home.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got all night to torment you about the infatuation you’ve got for your neighbor.” Connor reached over and grabbed Zachary’s extra beer off the coffee table. “It’s been driving me nuts, actually. The neighbor’s the very reason I suggested pizza at your place tonight. I’ve listened to you bitch and bitch about things you wouldn’t normally bitch about. He plays music too loud. He doesn’t stretch before getting on the treadmill. People come and go from his apartment. He’s always home. Why doesn’t he have a real job? He doesn’t talk to anybody when he’s working out in the gym. He always tries to pet my dog. Blah. Blah. Blah. It’s nonsense, Zachary. He got under your skin and I needed to see for myself why.” A feral grin turned his face wicked. “And now I know.”

Zachary dropped his head to the back of the sofa, completely defeated and wishing he’d at least licked the top of the beer bottle to keep Connor from stealing it. There was no point arguing with Connor anymore, especially when his friend was dead-on concerning John. He wanted his neighbor and he wasn’t going to have a smidgen of peace in his life until he had him.

“It’s weird, though,” Connor murmured. “He looks really familiar.” A frown knitted his brow as he glanced away and then shook his head.

“I doubt it, Conn. We’ve only lived in Georgia for four months, and I’d bet everything I own that he hasn’t left this apartment building one time since I moved in. You haven’t been here, so I don’t think he’s somebody you know.” Zachary grinned. “Oh, wait. Maybe you’ve seen him on the Most Wanted Prostitute list you guys have at work.”

Connor was right. He’d been stupid for thinking John was a hooker. He still wasn’t sure what John was or what he was doing every other Friday—and whatever it was, he sure as hell didn’t like it—but he could…grudgingly…admit he no longer thought he turned tricks.

“Nah, it’s not that, but I’ve seen him somewhere.” Connor shook his head, obviously tucking thoughts of John away for another time. “I’ve got to run. You’re boring.” He stood, stretched, and belched. “You got a shift at the hospital tomorrow or are you available for a fun night of bar hopping?”

“Shift at the hospital…then bar hopping,” Zachary answered with a beer bottle salute, not getting up to show Connor out.

---