Page 4 of The Murder Between Us
“I was…” He was what? Coming down here to look at men? How did that sound, when he said it outside the four walls of his hotel room? He sounded like a creep, like someone he would investigate and expect to find a string of sexual complaints behind, maybe some Peeping Tom activity or stalking. It hadn’t sounded that ridiculous before.Let yourself look. Let yourself pretend you’re allowed to.
God knows he’d wanted to.
He’d imagined meeting a man so many times, dreamed it and yearned for it and hungered for it, the skin of his hands itching from wanting to reach out and…
He wanted to know what it was like. Was the reality anything like the wanting?
“I was giving myself permission,” he said.
Smiling, the man held out his hand. “My name is Cole.” His smile made his whole face light up, turning the strong angles into gentle curves. “If you’d like, I’ll buy the next round and we can chat for a while.”
He has kind eyes.Whirlpools of warm wood, dark velvet and starlight. Cole’s eyes went right through Noah. That clench he’d carried for years was back, a constriction in his chest like his heart couldn’t beat right. “I’m Noah.” He took Cole’s hand. His skin was warm, smooth. His fingers were long. Jesus, he was gorgeous. “I’d love to have a drink with you.”
Cole beamed.
2
They talkedabout everything and nothing, working through one round and then a second. It was neither of their first times in Vegas, but Cole enjoyed the nightlife while Noah confessed this was his first time out without his friends in all the years he’d been coming. They were both there on business, but Noah didn’t elaborate—he didn’t want to drag the FBI into tonight, into this moment that didn’t seem real—and neither did Cole, following his lead. Cole loved football and hockey, and they argued about the NFL and the division rankings before Cole tried to explain hockey to him. They both hated golf.
The conversation veered back toward the personal, and the reason they were even talking, after the second round. “Are you questioning, curious, or…” Cole’s eyebrows flicked up, and he took a sip and waited as Noah stared into his own drink.
“‘Or,’ I think. I mean, I’m curious, but it’s more than that. I think I’m…”Gay. You think you’re gay. He gestured at nothing with his glass. Shrugged. “And I want to know.”
“Is this a recent question?”
Maybe Cole was a psychologist. He seemed to know just what to ask, and when. “No, not recent. I’ve been curious since I was a teenager. I shoved it away when I was younger. Coming out in high school twenty years ago, it wasn’t totally acceptable.” There were things he’d wanted, things he’d imagined in his life, that he thought would be forever off-limits to him if he was gay. So he decided he wasn’t, and that was that.
And here he was. “I only started thinking about finding out for sure in the last couple of years.”
“And tonight was the night you decided to do so? On a Wednesday in Vegas in the middle of your conference?” Cole was poking fun at him, but there was a serious question hidden there, too.
“I wasn’t going to do anything tonight. I thought I’d grab a drink and tell myself… ‘Someday.’ I don’t know, it sounds stupid to say it out loud. Like I was doing a dress rehearsal or something.”
“It’s not stupid. Everyone has their own process.”
He smiled. “This is the only time I can try, or do whatever I’m doing. I can’t be like that back home. I thought maybe letting myself feel the attraction I wanted to feel would be something. Some small step.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re lost on a river in Egypt.” Cole held out his glass for a small “Cheers.” “I’m impressed. I wasn’t nearly so calm and collected about my own coming-out.”
Noah chuckled. “I am far from calm and collected.”
“You look that way from here. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of men get drunk, fall into bed with someone they didn’t expect to, and then wake up to a colossal panic attack and the kind of psychological crisis that can undo a person if they’re not willing to face the questions that come up after such an event. But here you are. You’re not running away from your curiosity or trying to hide from it.”
“Not anymore. I want to know.” What he’d do after he knew… Well.
“How’s your experiment going so far?” Cole swirled his drink before taking a sip. His gaze, so warm and serene and kind, sparked. Fires smoldered in its depths as he stared at Noah.
Noah’s mouth went dry. He licked his lips. Cole’s eyes darted to his tongue, then back to Noah’s eyes. Heat pooled in Noah’s belly. He shifted, one thigh brushing against Cole’s. They were standing so close together. “I’m having a great time.”
“Care to keep the night going?” Cole set down his empty drink, and Noah stiffened. “No, sorry. I meant, would you like to come with me? I’m heading out to watch a late-night jazz set. They don’t start until one a.m. at this place. It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall, very anti-Vegas. No flashy lights, no slots, no big stage. There’s maybe six tables in the whole spot. But it’s my favorite, and I guarantee, you’ll never hear better live music.”
“What kind of jazz?”
“Fusion. The guys playing tonight are a little more bluesy and have a little bit of rock in their sound. If you like the darker, more moody kind of jazz, they’re perfect for you.”
Noah smiled. “I happen to love blues, and blues rock, and moody jazz.”
Cole, again, beamed, turning the full force of his breathtaking smile on Noah. “Let me take you on your first date with a man, Noah.” He held out his hand.
